#i was giving him the most insane look because HELLO?

[priestfrommidnightmass]

oh my god i didn’t even TELL YOU ALL. so me and him were bugging each other as we always do and the kids were crowded around our table as they always do. he’s looking down and one of the kids notices the picture of his gf in his phone case and asks Is that your girlfriend? and he immediately assumes they’re referring to me? so he annoyedly goes No I don’t. I don’t know what that is. the children clarified that they were in fact not referring to me and he was like oh yeah it is. like

[honeypiehotchner]

Juno (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hello again! This goes from zero to 100 in two seconds flat don't @ me!! Sabrina's new album came out and reawakened something in me (everyone say thank you Sabrina) (also this is not beta'd I wrote this in a short n' sweet haze)

Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation

WC: like 3,400 I lost my damn mind clearly

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you. Blame it on period hormones (probably) or the fact that Aaron looks absolutely delicious right now in his tight black t-shirt (most likely), but you’re going to go insane if either of you have clothes on for another five minutes. 

The problem is, Aaron is trying to focus. It’s one of his days where he works from home, an idea you gave him when you realized how easy it would be for him to do the same paperwork just from the comfort of your living room. It was a brilliant idea at first. You got to see him more, and were able to do your own thing around the house while he did his work. You got to have lunch together, and offer a genuine mental break in between his mountain of paperwork. 

Now, though, you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck about whatever needs to be signed, who needs to clear what, and what phone calls he still needs to make. 

“Honey,” you call sweetly from the kitchen. You watch him from over the island, your thoughts going all sorts of ways -- namely, deep into the gutter. “Want to break for lunch?”

You see Aaron shake his head, still typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“Brunch?” you try again, walking out of the kitchen. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest in the way you know he loves because of the view it gives him of your cleavage. And you’re wearing a v-neck shirt today for that exact reason, too.

Aaron still doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry honey, maybe in an hour?”

You let out a huff that you know he hears because he finally looks up, eyebrows raised just so. It’s a look that you love. Curious, veering toward that playful annoyance that you can’t seem to go a few hours without his undivided attention. 

Which, you can, by the way. You’re more than capable. It’s just that right now, it’s a crime that his eyes have been looking at paperwork when they should be looking at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s some hesitation in his voice. You know he’s assuming the worst. That you’re not okay mentally, and that’s why you need him to take his lunch break now or maybe for the rest of the day. He’s done it before on your darker days.

But you’re okay. You’re perfectly fine. You’d just be even better if he put the damn laptop away and put his fingers to use somewhere else.

Which is exactly why you come to a stop in front of him and reach forward, tilting his screen down and down until it closes. He lets you.

He lets you take his laptop and put it on the table beside the couch. He watches you, his fiery brown eyes taking in every second. He lets you straddle his hips, your arms circling his neck.

“I see now,” he smirks, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist and squeezing lovingly. “By ‘lunch break’ you mean…”

“Put a baby in me,” you blurt, rocking your hips against his.

He stills, his hands making you stop your movements, too. His eyes are darker now in a way you haven’t seen in a while. “What?”

“Please,” you say, leaning your forehead down onto his, trying to move your hips again. “Need you.”

“Honey, we can’t have--”

“Yes I know the semantics, Aaron,” you mutter, now annoyed and lifting your head to glare at him. He has a vasectomy, you get that. “I mean fuck me like you’re putting a baby in me.”

His hands squeeze again. “I see.”

You frown. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he smirks, one hand leaving your waist to stroke your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re horny.”

You roll your eyes, peeling yourself off his lap. He lets you go, albeit with a curious look. You turn and head for the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he calls out after you, still with that damn smirk lacing his words.

“To get myself off,” you reply in a deadpan. “Since someone--”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence before Aaron is right behind you, hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him. That look full of fire is back again, stern this time.

“Did I say you could do that?” he says in a low tone.

“Did I ask?” you retort, backing out of his grasp and darting into the bedroom. 

Now there’s a smirk on your lips. It’s quickly approaching shit-eating grin territory, which you know will only egg Aaron on further. This little game of cat and mouse happens to be your favorite, and he knows it.

You’re barely two steps into the bedroom when Aaron is attached to your back yet again, this time wrapping his arms around your waist, locking you in.

“Color?” he whispers, his lips right at your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine.

You groan. “Green. Neon green. So green, I need you to--”

He spins you again, this time backing you into the wall and attacking your lips. Finally, you think, though you know you’re in for it now. The thought has a grin crawling up your lips, and you’re unable to stop it.

“What’s so funny, hm?” he scolds, moving his lips to your neck instead, to the exact spot he knows makes you weak in the knees. Like clockwork, he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your knees buckling when he bites down just so.

“Nothing,” you manage through a moan, tipping your head back onto the wall. “Shit.”

“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know,” he says, but he’s smiling against your skin. “Can’t let me focus on work because you need me to fuck you.”

“In my defense,” you try, your hands scrambling for his shoulders, for something to ground you. “You didn’t fuck me this morning.”

“I fucked you last night,” he reminds you, as if you needed the reminder. It’s the reason you slept so soundly. “Was that not enough?”

You can’t help it; you laugh. 

He lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. The same question as before on his lips.

“Sorry, I thought you were joking,” you say. 

“You’re insatiable.” 

“Guilty,” you grin, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You make out against the wall for too long like two teenagers behind the bleachers at school. You hook one leg around his hips, pulling him in and grinding against his obvious erection. It’s enough to have him groaning into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with renowned vigor. 

You can feel how wet you’re becoming and fuck, neither of you have even taken a single article of clothing off yet.

Aaron notices, one hand traveling south without you paying attention, too busy relishing the way he licks into your mouth, stealing your every breath. The kissing becomes increasingly sloppy when he works his hand into your leggings, under the waistband of your underwear, and into you.

“Oh my god,” your back arches against the wall, pushing his fingers deeper. He doesn’t bother with one, starting right away with two, curling them when you grind harder.

“You’re soaking my hand,” he practically growls into the next kiss, adding a third finger after only a few thrusts. Your body accepts it willingly, always ready for him. “Jesus.”

“More,” you gasp, pushing him deeper. “Aaron, more, I’m serious--” Your words break off as he scissors his fingers, making your eyes roll back instantly.

“I can feel you already,” he smirks against your cheek, pressing a kiss there, an action so sweet and gentle compared to what the rest of him is doing. “Come on, honey. You’re cumming as many times as you want.”

That makes you inch closer to the edge at a frightening speed. He says you can cum as many times as you want, but what he means is he’s going to force as many orgasms out of you as he can. Until you tell him to stop or he decides you need a break. 

The thought of being an overstimulated mess in his embrace later has you climaxing against his fingers, your head falling onto his shoulder as his movements never cease, milking every last wave out of you. 

You lift your head in search of his lips again, which he willingly gives to you, his fingers slowing to soothing strokes as you whimper into his mouth. You’ve only had one orgasm and you already feel ruined. He can tell the way you tremble against him, so he checks in once more.

“Green?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You nod. “Green. You?”

He smirks. “Absolutely.”

He picks you up into his arms, inelegantly tossing you onto the bed behind you. You giggle as you bounce on the mattress, tugging your shirt over your head as he does the same to his. His hands move for his belt and you practically jump to the end of the bed, swatting his hands away.

“Since when is that your job?” you frown up at him, unbuckling his belt without looking.

He laughs, petting your head gently. “So sorry, you’re right.”

“What was that?” you tease. “I don’t think I heard you.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you smirk, pulling his belt out of the loops and tossing it somewhere. You don’t wait for him to reply before you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.

There’s just something about his dick. You hate that you love it, or maybe you don’t hate it at all. All you know is you need it in your mouth right now.

So, you do that, without any warning. Aaron thrusts forward into your mouth on pure instinct, not expecting you to wrap your lips around him so soon. You slide down the edge of the bed onto your knees, pulling him back to you by his thighs. 

You take your time, pushing his jeans and boxers down further. When you pull back for air, he steps out of them and kicks them elsewhere, returning to you quickly, knowing better than to keep you waiting. 

You swallow him down again, moaning around him in the way you know he loves. It takes all of two seconds before he gently holds the back of your head, asking silently for permission that you were already about to grant. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you squeeze his thigh twice. Go ahead.

The thing about Aaron fucking your face is that it took a while for him to do it as hard as you really wanted. He’s always so gentle, a quality that drew you to him initially. You love how gentle he can be. But you love it equally as much when he is rougher with you.

Like now, when he has you pinned against the bed, one hand on the back of your head as he fucks into your throat. It’s blissful, quite frankly, the way he feels, and you thank the universe every time for your lack of a gag reflex. 

He holds you there with a deep groan, and you feel him twitch in your throat once before he pulls you off entirely. You frown up at him, once again not getting what you wanted, but he doesn’t have any time for that.

He picks you up by your armpits, hauling you back onto the bed. Your leggings and underwear are gone in a single second, along with your bra. He’s crawling up your body and crowding your space before you have a second to protest that he wasn’t down your throat for near as long as you wanted him to be. 

All frustrations leave your mind the second he pushes inside of you, immediately sliding home, his hips flush against yours. 

It’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, the way he hits you so deep. Another thing it took him a while to be comfortable doing.

He’s not average sized by any means, and you’re the first to admit it made you salivate the first time you saw. The first time he fed himself into you and worried that he was hurting you, meanwhile you were clawing his back because you wanted more. It hurt for a moment, only an uncomfortable pressure because he was bigger than your vibrator, but as soon as you were used to the size of him, you wanted all of him.

He stays there, deep in you without moving for a moment, grinding against you. His lips attack yours again before he pauses to lean his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath.

“You drive me crazy,” he says on a shaky exhale.

You wrap your legs around him, thrusting your hips up to take him a little more. His hips stutter, pushing in the way you wanted him to, the way you know you can make him do involuntarily.

“Fuck,” he bites out, turning his attention to your neck again.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging. “Exactly. So why aren’t you moving?”

He nips at your neck. “Because if I move, I will cum right away.”

“Who said I only want you to cum inside me once?”

He groans again, fingers digging into your hips as you circle them, though he doesn’t try to stop you. “Greedy” is all he says, but he finally moves.

The thrusts are slow at first, Aaron clearly trying to pace himself. You can’t say you’re doing the same, already chasing your second high as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand reaches down to rub your clit, but is promptly smacked away by Aaron’s hand as he glares at you.

“Since when is that your job?” he echoes you from earlier, only this time, there’s more heat to it. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head to stop any other temptation. “Not this time.”

His thrusts pick up speed and depth, his body moving against yours in the exact way that makes you fall apart. It’s not often that he doesn’t let you cum from added clit stimulation -- not that you can’t without it; it just makes the high feel that much better -- but sometimes he does. It’s an ego trip for him as much as it is for you.

It also adds an unpredictable nature to it, which is why your second orgasm takes you by such surprise. You seize against him, your hands doing all sorts of squirming to try to break free of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you, and he doesn’t let up. You don’t realize why until you feel the warmth spreading into you as he reaches his own peak. 

You’ve clearly worked him up as much as you worked yourself up because his thrusts barely slow down, and he doesn’t soften inside of you. 

Instead, he pulls out only to flip you on your side, sliding in behind you and pulling your leg up and back over his hips. The action causes some of his cum to spill out of you, but you don’t have any time to focus on that before he fucks back into you. 

You’ve ceased to have any coherent thoughts as Aaron whispers dirty nothings into your ear, one arm wrapped around your body to keep you pinned against him. The pleasure doesn’t stop and at one point, you question if your second orgasm stopped at all or if it has continued this entire time.

Aaron reaches underneath the pillow where he knows he’ll find one of your vibrators because he heard you using it this morning. No, he didn’t fuck you this morning, but you fucked yourself, and truly, at 8am, he should’ve known you’d end up like this by eleven. 

Your mind doesn’t register what the sound means until the vibrator is pressed against your clit. Your body jerks, scrambling for some grounding, your hands finding it in wrapping them around his arm. 

He switches hands on the vibrator, so one hand is free to wrap around your throat. Your eyes roll back as soon as you feel the gentle pressure, your body practically going limp against him. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs directly into your ear, his thrusts slowing to deep strokes. “You’ve got a couple more in you.”

“A couple?” is all you manage to say, your hand squeezing his wrist so he knows to squeeze your throat a little more.

“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Is it too much?” His question is laced with just the right amount of pity that makes you shake your head against him. “I thought so,” he replies, switching the vibrator to a higher setting.

It sends you into your third orgasm instantly, squirming violently against him as he pushes into you deeper. He knows how much you love that, and loves how much you squeeze around him as he slides inside, fighting against your muscles that threaten to force him out. You’ve done it before, a mesmerized look on his face and yours when you both realized what happened. Since then, you told him you liked it more when he fought to stay inside. 

He takes the vibrator away as you calm down, his hips also pausing, keeping himself deep inside you. The pressure is soothing, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. His palm falls away from your throat, instead propping underneath your cheek.

It takes a few seconds before you feel yourself spasming around him. He chuckles against your back, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Still?”

You nod dumbly, rocking your hips again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I just-- Need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he soothes, pulling out again to roll you onto your stomach instead, one of your favorite positions.

You’re floating as you settle into the pillows, letting Aaron manhandle you wherever you need to be. You groan in your happy, blissed out state as he slides home again, draping himself over your back.

He is gentler now, knowing that’s exactly what you need at this point. The last orgasm he pulls from you is just as gentle, and he pushes deeper into you, letting you ride it out. 

He pulls your hips up and thrusts once, twice before he’s spilling into you. You didn’t realize he was that close again. The warmth is soothing this time as it spreads through you. 

Aaron leaves you only to settle behind you, spooning you once again. Your hand reaches behind you to find him, and he catches your wrist. 

“You need to rest,” he chides softly.

“I know,” you whimper. “Need you inside me.”

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck as he slides in again, still half-hard, but it’s enough. You settle down as soon as the weight of him is tucked inside you again. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you sleepily nod, pushing back into him so he holds you tighter. “Do you have to go back to work?”

He chuckles against you, sighing. “No, I’m done for the day, I think,” he says. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

That makes you laugh. “We need a better excuse.”

“Or I need to go back to working in the office.”

You roll your eyes. “Like that’ll make a difference.”

He shakes his head, his mind remembering the same memories that you are. The many lunch hours when you went to eat with him, and ended up with your back pressed into the couch, his tie stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go to sleep,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ll make us lunch when we wake up.”

“Perfect,” you smile, nuzzling into him. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he says, pressing little kisses to your neck and cheeks, wherever he can reach. “Now sleep.”

You’re already halfway there. The combination of him nestled inside of you and the post-orgasm exhaustion is enough to lull you into a restful sleep.

[incognit0slut]

Lesson learned

PART 3 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Unit Chief!Spencer x BAU!Reader Your boss decides to teach you a lesson when you question the motivations behind a certain case.

Content: (18+) 6k, breath play, fingering, a little case description, BDSM discussion, softdom Spence but borderlines to dom because hello this is breath play and reader being judgy judgy but don’t worry he’s here to teach you a lesson or two a/n: The initial plan was to make him a hard dom but breathplay is already overwhelming so I decided to go the educational route. I am, by all means, not as smart as him, so there might be some inaccuracy

You would think that after joining the BAU for two years, you’d start to understand the twisted logic of a criminal’s mind. But you don’t. Not really. You’ve dissected motives, uncovered patterns, and profiled suspects more times than you can count, and yet this case makes no sense. 

Your eyes go over the photographs pinned to the board again. And again. And again. It’s become almost a ritual now, like maybe if you look at it just one more time, the pieces might finally fall into place. But all you find staring back at you are three victims with the same marks on their necks. There was clearly a sign of struggle, but not one of fear. Not one that fits any pattern you know.

“I don’t get it,” you say. “The profile suggests the victims knew their attacker, but this doesn’t look like anything close to rage. Or brutality.”

Spencer shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as he leans closer to the board. “It might not have been an act of violence,” he observes thoughtfully. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”

You furrow your brow. “If it wasn’t violent, then what was it?”

“The bruising pattern is too symmetrical, and there’s no sign of panic or defensive wounds on their hands. I think there’s a chance the victims might have willingly participated.”

“Willingly?” Your eyes snap at him. “What do you mean, ‘willingly participated’? No one willingly gets strangled.”

He meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the board. “I know it sounds unlikely,” he admits, “but not impossible. See how the bruises are evenly spaced? They wrap around in perfect circles. The pressure is distributed just enough to leave a mark but not to crush the windpipe.“

“Spencer, that’s exactly what happened. The windpipe was crushed.”

“Yes, but not immediately. That’s the point.” He turns towards you again. “The intention wasn’t to kill them outright. The unsub wanted to bring them to the point of unconsciousness but not over it. At least, not at first. He was counting on their trust before pushing it too far.”

You let out a huff. “That’s insane.”

“It might seem that way to you, but it’s not unheard of. Sexual asphyxiation is a consensual act for some people. The lack of oxygen when someone’s airflow is restricted can trigger a euphoric sensation which intensifies pleasure."

You stare at him like he’s just spoken a different language. “So, you're saying they get off on... not breathing?”

“More like they find excitement in giving up that control."

You cross your arms and study him, tilting your head with a skeptical frown. “How do you even know this?”

The corner of his mouth twitches in a half-smile. “I read,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You have a book on sexual asphyxiation?”

“It’s more comprehensive than that. The book covers a wide range of kinks, fetishes, and other forms of sexual exploration which are considered extreme by societal standards.”

"You’re telling me you read up on BDSM practices in your spare time?”

"I think of it as research,” he replies. “It’s part of understanding human behavior. You can’t afford to be ignorant about the complexities of people's desires."

"Huh." Your eyes travel back to the images again. "You know, I still don't understand. I mean, willingly letting someone cut off your breath? That’s not just trust that’s… I don’t know, crazy?”

His eyes narrow towards you as if he's carefully considering how much to say.

“It's not crazy,” he insists carefully. “For people who engage in it, it’s not only about losing control. It’s about reaching a heightened state of awareness, finding excitement in walking that line.”

"But what if that line gets crossed? What then? How could anyone think that sounds… fun?”

“Well, have you ever tried it?”

“Of course not!” you reply quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity. “Why would I?”

“Then you wouldn’t know,” he counters, his tone calm but pointed, like he’s presenting a fact rather than an opinion. “You can’t really understand the mindset until you’ve experienced it. It’s not something you can fully grasp from the outside.”

"I don’t think I could ever trust someone enough to do that to me."

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person to trust.”

You scoff. “What? Are you offering?”

You laugh at your own joke, and you expected him to do the same. Or perhaps a quick “Of course not”, even some rambling about how he didn’t mean it that way. But when all you’re met with is silence, your laughter dies down, and your eyes dart back to him.

Spencer’s not looking at you, his eyes are fixed on the photographs pinned to the board. He’s studying the bruises, the faces, the details like he always does, but there’s a stillness in his expression, a tension in the set of his jaw that makes you think he’s considering something else entirely. And for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s really thinking about the victims or the case at all.

Maybe you shouldn’t joke about things like that. He is your boss, after all, and even though there isn’t exactly a strict superior-subordinate dynamic between the two of you—he’s always been more of a peer than an authority figure—you wonder if maybe this time you crossed a line.

Spencer’s eyes remain on the photos for a long, agonizing second, and you think maybe he’s not going to respond at all. But then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at you, and the room suddenly feels impossibly small.

“If I were to offer,” he says quietly, “Would you take it?”

His words knock the breath from your lungs, and all you can do is stare back at him. You don’t know what to make of the question. Was it a dare? A test? Or perhaps something more?

There’s a part of you that wants to laugh it off. The conversation was absurd to begin with, so brushing it away like it’s nothing would feel like the safest option. The easy way out. But there’s another part—one you don’t want to acknowledge—that can’t help but wonder what it would mean to say yes.

What if you did? you ponder.

What would it feel like to trust someone like that?

What would it feel like to trust him?

But before you can reply, the door to the meeting room creaks open, the noise echoing through the dimly lit space of the police precinct. A uniformed officer pokes his head inside.

“Dr. Reid, we found a new lead on the vehicle.”

Spencer’s eyes stay locked on yours for just a beat longer as your heart hammers in your chest. Then, without a word, he nods to the officer, and any trace of whatever passed between you dissolves like it never happened at all.

The next few days turn into a blur. The lead on the unsub’s vehicle takes you across town, a chase that ends with the suspect cornered in an abandoned old house. It’s almost anticlimactic how quickly it all happens—sirens blaring, doors kicked in, and in less than an hour, the unsub is in handcuffs. The case is finally closed, and it’s the kind of victory that usually brings a sigh of relief.

But today, you can’t find that peace.

Back at the precinct, the rest of the team has already moved on to debriefing. You’re left cleaning up the mess of photographs and notes scattered across the table. But your movements are slow, distracted, your fingers fumbling over the papers. There’s a prickling awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you know exactly why.

It’s because Spencer is watching you. You don’t even need to look to feel the weight of his gaze. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes track your movements.

You pause, photos in hand, and finally address him. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushes off the wall and starts walking toward you. He stops just short of arm’s length.

“Have you thought about what we discussed the other day?”

You feel a rush of embarrassment, and the awkwardness of the moment makes you shift uncomfortably. Clearing your throat, you turn your attention back to the table, hastily grabbing a stack of photographs and shuffling them into a folder.

“We didn’t discuss anything,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “It was just a joke.”

“Was it? You don’t joke about things like that unless you’ve thought about them at least a little.”

You let out a dry laugh, keeping your eyes firmly on the table. “I wasn’t being serious. We were in the middle of a case, and we were all exhausted. I just said whatever came to mind.”

Spencer tilts his head, the way he does when he’s analyzing something, his eyes flickering over your face as though he’s cataloging every twitch of your expression.

“Maybe,” he concedes, and takes another step forward. “But the offer wasn’t a joke, and you didn’t say no.”

Your fingers freeze over the photographs, the papers crinkling under your touch.

“I didn’t say yes either.”

You mentally wince at how weak that sounds, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. You slowly look up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you find are those intense brown eyes staring back at you.

It unnerves you how calm he is, how easily he’s holding this conversation when your mind is spinning in a million directions.

“You do realize what you’re offering?” you start to press, feeling the need to put it out in the open. “What this means?”

Spencer doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact for a second. “I do.”

“Do you? Because it seems to me like you might be taking this too lightly."

“I’m not taking it lightly. I’m acknowledging that there’s more to it than what you’re seeing on the surface.”

“And what makes you think I want to see beyond the surface?”

He leans in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, but not enough to cross any boundaries. “I’m offering a perspective, not forcing you to accept it. Understanding doesn’t always come from reading about something. It comes from experience.”

You can’t quite decide if his words make sense or if they’re completely absurd. It’s like he’s challenging your logic, your assumptions, but at the same time, there’s a strange clarity to what he’s saying.

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

Because he’s your boss? Because someone in his position always tries to make sense of everything for everyone else?

“Because shaming people for their interests, for something they might find pleasure in… it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.”

Now that was something you didn’t expect him to say.

“I wasn’t shaming,” you protest quickly, the words coming out defensive even to your own ears. “I was just…”

“Curious,” he finishes for you. “And curiosity isn’t a flaw. Neither is wanting to understand, and if you’re willing to explore that curiosity, then I’d rather you experience it in a way that’s safe. That you know is controlled.”

“So what?” you snap back. “You want to prove me wrong? Show me I’ve been looking at this the wrong way?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not playful. It’s gentle, almost thoughtful, as if he’s carefully weighing each word. “No,” he says softly. “I don’t want to prove you wrong. I want to teach you.”

You blink at him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, the words tangled somewhere between shock and disbelief. It takes a few seconds until you manage to find your voice.

“You… want to teach me?”

“A lesson, if you will,” he explains, and the way he says it—so calm, so certain—makes your heart stutter. “Not to prove you wrong, but to help you understand. You have your perceptions about… control and trust. I think the only way to really understand is to experience it yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, what to do, and all that comes out is a shaky, barely-there laugh.

“A lesson,” you repeat, trying to make sense of the concept.

He nods, and there’s no pressure in his voice, just an offer. Simple and clear. “But only if it’s what you want.”

You aren’t sure what to feel, much less what to say, and the uncertainty must show on your face. Sensing your hesitation, Spencer takes a step back, giving you space.

“It’s a lot to consider, and I’m not expecting an answer now. But the offer still stands… whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, he gives you one last smile and turns away, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.

You’re pacing in your hotel room, your footsteps muffled by the worn carpet as you make the same path back and forth over and over again. Every time you try to sit down, your leg bounces with restless energy, so you’re back up again, moving without purpose but unable to stop.

You tell yourself it’s just stress. The case, the pressure, the weirdness of being in a small-town motel with creaky walls and awful lighting. But you know better. You know exactly what’s got your mind spinning and your stomach doing flips.

Spencer. And his damn offer.

You scoff to yourself, trying to laugh it off like you always do, but the joke doesn’t land when it’s just you, alone with your thoughts. And, really, what’s the harm in admitting the truth—to yourself, at least? That maybe the whole concept doesn’t seem as insane as it did a few days ago. That maybe you’ve found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trust someone that much.

You stop pacing, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. There it is, that nagging curiosity, that flicker of intrigue that Spencer saw before you even knew it was there. You let out a sigh, the weight of the realization hitting you.

God help you, but you’re actually curious.

And that might just be the scariest part of all.

You slip into your shoes and take a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. The motel’s quiet, most of the rooms dark as you walk past, and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if this is a mistake. The team’s staying one more night here, the last bit of downtime before flying back tomorrow. A chance to decompress, to shake off the adrenaline of the case. Yet here you are, anything but relaxed, heading out because you can’t stand one more second of pacing back and forth.

Your footsteps come to a stop outside Spencer’s room, and you stare at the numbers on the plaque for a moment. You could turn around right now. You could pretend you didn’t walk all the way down the corridor with his words echoing in your head. But as much as you try to convince yourself that walking away is the logical choice, your hand moves on its own, and you knock.

Spencer doesn’t look surprised when he opens the door. Without waiting for an invitation, you push past him, barging into the room before you change your mind.

“If we’re going to do this, I have some ground rules,” you blurt out, the words rushing out all at once. “I don’t know what you think this is going to be like, but I need control over some things. Non-negotiable.”

He closes the door with a soft click. “Of course,” he responds calmly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“First,” you say, spinning around to face him. “I’m in control of when this starts and when it stops. If I say no, then we stop. Immediately. No questions, no convincing, none of that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Second, I need to know exactly what we’re doing. No surprises. You explain everything to me before we do anything.”

He quickly nods.

“And third… this doesn’t leave this room. We don’t talk about it to anyone else. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.”

He takes a step forward towards you. “This stays between us.”

You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline settling into a nervous, thrumming pulse beneath your skin. “Okay,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, trying to process the reality of what you’ve just laid out. “Those are my rules.”

Spencer takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faintest trace of him. A mix of something clean and warm, like soap and worn cotton, an understated scent that’s distinctly him.

“Then those are the rules we follow,” he reassures you. “Your terms. Your pace.”

“Thank you.”

He nods his head again. “Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

There is, actually. There’s a question that’s been hovering in the back of your mind. It feels awkward to say out loud, but the uncertainty gnaws at you, and finally, you force the words out.

“Are we… are we going to have sex?”

He holds your gaze. “Do you want to have sex?”

You go quiet again, letting the silence settle around you as you think about what you want, what you came here for. You slowly shake your head. “No,” you reply. “No, I don’t.”

“Then we won’t. There’s more to explore in this than just sex.”

“Right, that’s—good.” You clear your throat. “I have… one more question.”

He gestures for you to continue.

“You’re not going to fire me for this, are you?”

His soft chuckle fills your ear, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile tonight. “No,” he confirms, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m not going to fire you. Whatever happens between us won’t affect your work, I promise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a little of the weight lift off your shoulders.

“Okay, so… now what?”

“Now,” he says gently, “We take it slow.“

He guides you toward the edge of the bed, and you find yourself moving automatically, sitting down on the mattress. The bed creaks slightly as he settles beside you.

“If we’re going to do this,” he starts, turning slightly to face you. “I want you to be comfortable. And that means talking. You can start by telling me what you’re thinking. ”

“That’s… it? We’re just going to talk?”

Spencer’s mouth lifts into a soft smile. “Yes,” he confirms, “If that’s what you want. There’s no pressure to do anything else.”

The idea of just talking feels safe, but there’s also a flicker of curiosity that you can’t quite shake. You shift on the bed.

“What if I want to do something more?”

Spencer’s eyes search yours, and he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t do anything that could make the moment feel rushed. “If you want to, then we can. Something simple to start.”

Your fingers trace the fabric of the bedspread. “Like what?”

“Something small. It could be as simple as letting me guide your breathing. A way to practice trust without anything overwhelming.”

You swallow, the idea feeling both intimidating and oddly… reassuring. There’s comfort in the way he talks about it, the lack of pressure, and the way he makes it feel like there’s nothing to fear.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Let’s try that.”

He moves a little closer to you. “We’ll take it slow,” he promises. “Try to focus on your breathing and follow my lead.”

You close your eyes, feeling your breath shallow and quick, your heart racing as you try to find a steady rhythm.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructs softly. You inhale deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs, and when you open your eyes for a moment, you find his face inches from yours.

“Good. Now let it out… slowly.”

You follow his lead, exhaling, and you can’t help but notice he’s mirroring your breathing—his chest rising and falling in time with yours. It’s oddly comforting, and a little unnerving, like he's syncing with the rhythm of your pulse.

“Again,” he guides. “Deep breath in… hold for a count of three… then let it go.”

You do as he says, feeling your nerves steady slightly with each breath. In, hold, out.

“You’re doing really well,” he murmurs, leaning just a fraction closer. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath brushing your skin. “I’m going to ask you something, but I need you to know you can say no. At any point.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently, his words so soft they almost melt into the air around you. “Just on your shoulder, or your hand. I want to see how you feel about being touched while you focus on your breathing.”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but you manage another nod. His hand moves carefully to rest on your shoulder, but even with the light pressure, you feel your body stiffen. Spencer notices immediately.

“You’re tense,” he observes, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder.

You let out a small laugh, one that comes out more like a nervous exhale than anything close to amusement. “It’s kind of hard not to be,” you admit. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay. It’s completely normal to feel nervous.” He pauses for a second before continuing, his tone thoughtful, like he’s considering what might actually help. "There are a few things that can help when you’re feeling this way. One of them is focusing on your breathing, which we’re already doing. But there’s also physical touch."

"Physical touch?”

"Kissing, for example," he explains, “can actually help regulate your nervous system. It releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol levels. Basically, it signals your body to relax."

Your eyes fall on his lips. "Really?"

A flicker of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, but it’s only helpful if it’s something you feel comfortable with.” He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Would you like to try?”

You meet his gaze again and, before you can overthink it, find yourself nodding, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Yeah… okay. We can try.”

Before you even finish the sentence, Spencer leans in, his lips brushing yours with the kind of gentleness that catches you off guard. It's soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, and you can feel the slight hesitation in his movements as if he’s making sure you’re comfortable. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, and for a second, you wonder if this is how he kisses—gentle, thoughtful, deliberate.

But as the kiss deepens, you feel the warmth of him pulling you in. Your heart’s doing this erratic thing where it skips every other beat, and your mind’s racing to catch up with what your body’s already starting to enjoy. And sure, maybe the science behind this kiss makes sense after all, because there’s a part of you that’s actually relaxing, even with the buzz of nerves still humming beneath the surface.

Then he pulls back, just enough for your lips to barely part, his breath warm against your skin. “How are you feeling?”

It takes three heartbeats to find your voice. “Uh... yeah, good,” you manage, a little breathless, a little more flustered than you’d like to admit.

“Do you want to keep going?”

You pause, thinking it over, and despite the swarm of nerves in your chest, curiosity wins out again. You nod, maybe a little too quickly. The moment you do, Spencer leans in again, and this time his kiss is deeper, more intent. The softness is still there, but there’s a quiet intensity in the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand lightly cups the back of your neck.

Then his tongue brushes lightly against your lower lip, and a ripple of goosebumps spreads across your skin. You part your lips for him, and the sensation of his tongue slipping past m has you gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.

Just when you think you’re getting used to it, his hand shifts, sliding up to wrap gently around the front of your neck. Not tight, not restricting—just enough to make you aware of it. The warmth of his palm against your throat sends a jolt of something sharp right through you. He seems to notice instantly, and without pulling his hand away, he breaks the kiss.

“Are you okay?” His thumb gently strokes the side of your neck. “I don’t want to push you, if it’s too much—”

But before he can finish, you shake your head quickly, surprising even yourself with how fast the words leave your mouth. “No, I… trust you.”

His eyes soften at your words, and his grip on your neck stays gentle, almost protective. “Would it be okay if I touched you more?”

Your pulse beats rapidly beneath his fingers, a rhythm you’re sure he can feel, as if your heart is answering for you. “…yes.”

“Do you want to lie down? Would that be more comfortable?”

You feel the heat travel along your veins. “I think… that would be good.”

Spencer nods as he helps you shift back onto the pillow. He stays close but doesn’t crowd you, his hand returning to rest lightly on your neck, that same soft pressure that keeps your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“Remember, focus on your breathing,” he reminds you. “The way your body responds is tied to how much you let yourself feel. Trust that.”

His other hand begins to move. His hand trails up toward your shoulder, then lightly brushes over your breast. It’s barely a touch at first, like he’s testing the boundaries, waiting for your body to tell him how far to go. Your breath catches for a second, but when you don’t tense up, he takes that as a sign to continue.

“Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your voice a little breathless than you expected. And, God, you mean it. It’s more than okay—it’s… unexpectedly good in a way that feels almost too intimate to think about.

His hand moves lower now, tracing a path down your side, before sliding gently across your leg. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his fingers brush against the inside of your thigh.

“How about this?”

You nod, biting your lip as you meet his gaze.

Spencer’s lips curls into the faintest smile. His hand inches higher, moving up your thigh with excruciating slowness until his fingers finally reach the heat between your legs.

Oh. Oh.

Your hips instinctively tilt toward him, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The heat pooling low in your belly intensifies as his fingers press lightly against you.

“Still with me?”

You nod, but internally, your mind is spinning. He begins to move in slow, circular motions, his fingers dragging against the fabric in a way that makes you bite back a moan. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel your arousal sticking uncomfortably to your panties. It doesn’t shock you—you know understand how being touched like this will make you wet—but what surprises you is how much more intense it feels when his grip around your neck tightens.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop yourself, a moan escapes your lips.

He pauses for a moment, his grip relaxing just enough for you to catch your breath. “I want you to feel the difference,” he explains. “The pressure changes everything. It makes you more aware of every sensation, more focused on how your body responds. But if it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

You nod, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “I’m good.”

His thumb traces the outline of your jaw. “Do you want me to continue?”

“…yeah.”

His hand travels towards your hips, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants. “Should we get rid of these?”

You don’t have to think about it for long. The answer is already there.

“You can take them off.”

Spencer’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants before tugging it down. But as the fabric pools around your ankles, you hesitate for a second before your hand instinctively reaches for your shirt. You fumble with the hem, glancing at him as you pull it halfway up, your breath coming out in a small, awkward laugh.

“I mean, it’d feel weird to be naked from the waist down and still… you know, fully dressed on top.”

His eyes linger on you, and his reaction is subtly amusing. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Without thinking too much about it, you tug the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra follows, quickly joined by your panties, and before you know it, you’re lying naked on your boss’s bed.

Or, technically, the bed he’s been sleeping on these past couple of days.

Spencer’s eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the curve of your perky breasts, your smooth skin, and the unmistakable wetness between your thighs. His gaze is careful, appreciative but never lingering too long in one place, like he’s taking you in while still giving you space to breathe.

“You’re so pretty.”

Pretty? The word feels almost quaint given the situation, but the way he says it makes it feel like it’s more than that. Like he’s seeing all of you, the parts you don’t often reveal, and he still thinks you’re beautiful.

And somehow, that simple compliment leaves you more exposed than the fact that you’re lying naked in front of him.

“I can’t believe we're doing this,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His hand brushes along your arm. “You don’t have to overthink it. You’re in control here. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I know.”

He tilts your head with his hand. “Is this okay so far?”

You offer him a smile. “It’s okay.”

His other hand lands on your knee. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

You feel the nerves buzzing beneath your skin, but there’s also a warmth, a curiosity, a pull toward him. You inhale deeply, letting the breath steady your nerves, and then, without letting your mind spiral any further, you slowly part your legs.

His palm glides along your inner thigh, and then he touches you again, only this time, there’s no barrier between you. You can feel the rough pad of his fingertips as they gently caress your folds that it pulls a sharp breath from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”

You nod. It’s more than just good—it’s everything. The way he’s paying attention to every inch of your body is overwhelming in the best way. His fingers trace a slow path along your skin, finally pausing as they brush against you between your folds. Without hesitation, Spencer slides a finger inside you. The sudden stretch pulls a gasp from your lips.

The slick wetness between your thighs coats his fingers almost instantly, and you feel yourself responding to him, opening up in ways you didn’t even know you could. He studies the way his finger moves in and out of your cunt, and the more he touches you, the more your hips begin to move on their own.

He takes your response as a sign to continue.

"I'm going to wrap my hand around your neck again," he tells you, without waiting for more than a slight nod of your head, his fingers curl around your throat.

"The pressure here," he begins, his thumb lightly pressing at the side of your neck. "Isn't just about cutting off your air, it also means restricting blood flow to your brain.”

He pushes another finger inside you, and the increased fullness draws a sharp intake of breath from you.

“By limiting the blood flow like this,” he continues, applying a bit more pressure around your throat. "It triggers your body to release adrenaline and dopamine. That rush you’re feeling? It’s your body chasing euphoria."

Euphoria. You never really thought about it like this before, how something so controlled could unlock a part of your body that felt so overwhelming. The feeling isn’t just pleasure, it’s a raw intensity that borders on something deeper as your cunt clenches around him. Your breath stutters, caught in a sharp contrast between the slow burn in your throat and the urgent heat flaring between your legs.

He’s unraveling you, pulling you apart thread by thread, yet leaving you desperate for the moment he puts you back together again.

You need more.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs soothingly. The words send a new wave of heat rushing through your body. Your hips move restlessly, and you can hear the soft whine escaping your throat, growing louder with each thrust.

Spencer notices immediately, his fingers slowing just for a moment. “Too much?”

You quickly shake your head, almost frantic, the last thing you want is for him to stop. The moment you do, his grip on your throat tightens slightly and your eyes flutter closed as a wave of euphoria washes over you. Head falling back against the pillows, your vision starts to blur. You feel the air restrict in your throat.

“I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.” His thumb strokes lightly against your neck. “The more you control your breathing, the better it’ll feel.”

That word alone almost undoes you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s meant to be soft and soothing, but instead, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. Your chest rises and falls as you do exactly what he says, because apparently, being called sweetheart with his fingers wrapped around your neck makes you want to obey him, more than you’d care to admit.

"That’s it, keep focusing on your breathing."

You force your eyes open, but everything feels hazy, unfocused. You’re not sure if it's from the lack of air or the way he’s looking at you, but you can feel yourself losing control. Your eyes flutter half-closed again, lips parting in a breathless moan, and before you realize it, your tongue slips out, barely grazing your lower lip.

Spencer knows you’re close. His thumb presses just a little harder against your throat, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough for your inner walls to grip his fingers tightly.

“I know, I know, I've got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just let go whenever you’re ready."

You can’t decide if the sound of his voice is making it easier or harder to hold on. There’s a brief moment where you think you might hold it together, but then your body betrays you. Your muscles tense, your breath catches in your throat, and all the control you had slips away in an instant. It’s as if your brain is giving in to exactly what he said it would—a surge of chemicals that makes your limbs feel heavy and light all at once.

Your orgasm slams right into you, the most intense thing you’ve ever felt. It floods your senses so completely that your lungs struggle to catch up. The tremors rack your body, and it’s only when your legs give a final, uncontrollable shake that he finally releases your neck, allowing the air to rush back into your lungs in a dizzying, breathless moment of relief.

Before you can fully recover, his lips are on yours in an instant. He moves against your neck, kissing the very spot where his hand had held you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

When you manage to catch your breath and blink through the lingering haze, he lies down on the bed and pulls you into his arms. It takes a whole minute before your breathing fully steadies, his hand stroking your hair the entire time.

“How are you feeling?”

You don’t know what to make of it all, so you laugh breathlessly instead, the only response you can muster.

“Like I’m about to pass out.”

“What?” He looks at you in alarm. “You are?”

You shake your head quickly, offering him a small smile. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just… it was really intense.” But the worry doesn’t completely leave his face, so you try again, placing your hand on his chest. “Good intense. I’m okay, I promise.”

He lets out a slow breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I take it you liked it?”

A flush of embarrassment washes over you, and you can’t quite meet his eyes as you nod. “Yeah… I did,” you admit, your voice soft, almost sheepish. “Go ahead, you can gloat. Tell me I was wrong.”

Instead of taking the bait, he gently traces his fingers along your neck. “It was never about proving you wrong. The judgment you made that day, about not getting why someone would like this… it’s hard to fully grasp until you feel it yourself.”

“I wasn’t judging,” you murmur, feeling a need to defend yourself.

“Maybe not intentionally,” he says thoughtfully. “When it comes to BDSM, there’s a lot of misunderstanding or assumptions people make from the outside, it’s really more than just control or pain. There’s trust, communication, boundaries. And I think, in a way, that’s what happened tonight. You trusted me enough to let go.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing what he’s saying. “Are you suggesting I could be into all of this?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies carefully. “But I think it’s possible that there’s more to it than you realize. You trusted me tonight, and that’s the most important part. That’s where it all starts.”

You chew on his words for a second. It’s not something you’d ever considered before, but now that he’s brought it up, you can’t deny that the thought has sparked something.

“So you think I might want to explore this further?”

His lips curl into a soft smile. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what you want. If you’re curious, then we can explore it together.” He leans in slightly. “Is that you want?”

The spark you felt moments ago? It flickers stronger now. The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but with him, it feels… possible. Safe, even.

You feel a tightness in your chest.

“I think… maybe, yeah.”

His smile deepens just a fraction. “We’ll take our time,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing lightly over your throat. “We can talk about this when we get back. You need to rest for now.”

You shift closer to him, feeling the rustle of his clothes against your bare skin. “Can I stay here tonight?”

His chin lands on top of your head. “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

What a dangerous offer, you think as you sink further into his arms. But not as dangerous as the way your heart flutters at the thought.

[boofeine]

things that get svt vocal in bed

hello, this is (once was) @wannabelife :/ my acc got suspended, and now im trying to start new on this blog. consider this my first post all over again ig...

WARNINGS: smut headcanons, general reader, mdni

a/n: finals are all done, im baaack fr 🫡 requests are open

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @unlikelysublimekryptonite

seungcheol gets wrecked with a little bit of pain. nothing too crazy; the grip you have on his biceps, your knuckles white that will leave red marks in his skin later is more than enough to make him lose it. he goes insane when you pull his hair and neck, and scratch his back and abs.

jeonghan loves to hear you, be vocal for him, and you will hear back from him. the little whines of his name you let out makes his cock harder, the low groans making out of his lips as he watches you squirm and moan for him.

joshua loses it all with the skinship. hug him close, press your bodies together tight. he loves how your hard nipples stroke agains his, and your sounds are beautifully on the nap of his ear.

junhui loves when you move to meet up his thrusts. the way you roll your hips onto his while moaning, losing yourself, more desesparate to chase your high than anything else. nothing else matters, makes his hips hault because of you.

soonyoung gets crazy under pressure, truly just push his bottoms "is that all you got?" and he will keep doing a better job each time. he fucks you so good that he, himself, cant believe it feels that amazing, his moans louder and sweaty skin.

wonwoo is only mewling if you edge him, that's the only way you will be hearing those beautiful low husky moans. the overstimulation kicking in, his head going back as he lets out the nastiest moan from the back of his throat with eyes shut.

jihoon is most vocal when you give him head. you will hear him throughout the whole thing, but he gets louder when you look up at him. your gaze fixed on his, his face twisted in pure bliss and plesure, as your mouth is full of him.

seokmin feels he's about to bust his balls when you praise him. "so good, oh my god, you're perfect" "you fuck me so good, im gonna cum" "like that" your sweet words, making him twitch, his lewd moans almost music to your ears.

mingyu gets weak when you take over, rolling his body to the side as you crawl to sit over him. your hands going behind your back, finding stability at his thighs as you ride him with the sounds of him whiny crying out your name.

minghao loves the dirty talk. the way you get bratty and challenging with your words makes him lose it completely. gets him on the edge, grunting and groaning, fucking you restless.

seungkwan also gets louder with a little bit of pain, he's a bit freaky, tho. grip his hair, pull his head back, bite his neck, choke him, i'd even say slap him, i think he can enjoy that too, dig your nails to his skin, and this man will be squirming, moaning, grunting, completely at your mercy.

vernon goes crazy when you beg. the little cry on your tone as you beg him to not stop, to make you cum, to fill you up. and when you wrap your legs around his hips, kneels on his ass and lower back, pulling him deeper inside you, that's his end, he's a sobbing moaning mess.

chan is gasping for air when you put a show for him. his cock dripping and lungs burning as you play with yourself for him, pinching your nipples and swirling on your cunt, has him letting out those needy breathy moans as he watches you.

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's not here, but she'll be - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

requests: "hello can i request one with lewis where he has been having a baby fever ... fluff and smut of course. and can we have a very slow and sexy one because he wants to take his time with her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻" - anon 2 ;

"hi, can I request a prequel to She's here and she's ours ... maybe it was hard to conceive and things weren't always all flowers" - anon 1

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of troubles with infertility, unprotected sexual activities (all sorts)

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Combined requests again because anon 2 asked for something that gave me the idea for the prequeal (sorry for how long it took anon 1, but hope the wait was worth it)

a/n.2: The tone of this whole series is mixing angst and fluff, this time I added a bit of smut too, hope you guys like it

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The discarded ovulation test lay on the bathroom counter, a white plastic screaming what her ovulation app had already warned to. Y/n stared at it, not really sure she even wanted to know about it that month.

The more you want something, the harder it is. That's what they said anyway, and apparently it wasn't any different when it came to “trying” to get pregnant, a euphemism that felt increasingly hollow with each passing cycle.

Doctors assured her a year was still considered normal, but the constant hum of wanting, the way it colored every conversation, every shared glance, was starting to wear on them both.

Six months. Six months of basal body temperatures, ovulation predictors, and Lewis’ frustrated attempts at scheduling "baby time" around his chaotic schedule.

“Again?” as Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he saw her face, then the test on her hands and his smile faltered.

He sighed, walking over to wrap his arms around Y/n. She leaned into him, but the spark of hope she usually felt was absent.

"It's been too long, Lew" she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. " The schedules, apps, and ovulation calendars. It's driving me insane."

“Maybe we just need to try harder” he suggested, trying to be optimistic. But the forced cheer didn't fool her.

“Harder?” Y/n pulled back slightly, the edge in her voice surprising even herself. “Lewis, it's like we're robots. Everything's always timed, charted…”

Lewis turned to face her. "You think I enjoy this? Every time we fail, it's like there's this... pressure. Like if it doesn't work, it's my fault."

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. "It's not about fault. It's about us. It feels like we’re losing sight of why we wanted this in the first place."

"It's not supposed to feel calculated, is it?" he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. "We both want this, right?"

"Of course, we do," Y/n insisted, her voice a touch too sharp. "But it's like we're robots following a program instead of… you know, a couple."

He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt. "That's not fair, Y/N. We’re trying our best here. Circumstances might not be the most ideal but it’s what we got"

Tears welled up in her eyes, her frustration boiling over. Lewis's shoulders slumped as he saw the evident fear in her eyes, his anger giving way to hopelessness. "I just... I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe," Y/N's voice held such certainty that surprised even herself, "maybe we should take a break.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise starting to take hold in his eyes. "A break? From trying?"

"Yeah," she took a deep breath before continuing, a growing conviction in her tone. "From the apps, schedules, calendar, the whole... stress. We just focus on us, and why we want this."

He was silent for a moment, considering her words. "What if it takes even longer?"

"Then... we'll deal with that when we get there," she said, her hand gently touching his cheek. "I want this pregnancy, but not like this. Not at the cost of us."

Lewis closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of their struggles hanging heavy in the air. He shook his head with an understanding nod "We've been so caught up in this that we've forgotten about us." he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"I love you; you know ?!" she whispered, the words catching him by surprise in their suddenness. She hadn't said them in days, maybe weeks, the unspoken worry choking the words back.

Lewis tilted his head, his gaze searching hers. "I love you, always." His voice was laced with tenderness. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "We'll get there " he whispered. "We'll have our family. I believe that with all my heart."

The positive pregnancy test felt surreal. Lewis and Y/n sat on the bed, the silence in the room only broken by the soft hum of the air conditioner. The digital test lay between them, its stark message still blinking: "Pregnant 5-6 weeks."

Y/n turned to Lewis, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and disbelief. "This can’t be real," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’ve been on the pill... we weren’t even trying."

Lewis stared at the test, then at her, his mind struggling to process the information. "We haven't thought about having kids for over a year." he stated, his voice filled with bewilderment

Tears filled Y/n’s eyes, but this time a mix of confusion and hope. "I didn’t even think about missing my period." she confessed. "I thought it was just the stress of the season, the move, the change in routines…"

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "This is real," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We’re really going to be parents."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, the reality of their news slowly sinking in. The past months of not even considering pregnancy, of relying on birth control, seemed to amplify the miracle of this moment. The weight of their previous struggles felt lighter, replaced by the shock and anticipation of the new life they had miraculously created.

"Five to six weeks," Y/n murmured, looking at the test again. "How could this happen?"

Lewis frowned, trying to remember. "What were we doing around then?" he asked, his brow furrowing in thought.

Y/n bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don’t know... maybe I missed a pill or something. But I really thought I was careful."

Lewis looked at her thoughtfully, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her hands “That’s not on you love, we decided on no condoms, remember?! We knew it could happen”.

Then, out of the blue with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes lighting up with realization. "Silverstone."

Y/n’s eyes widened as she remembered and stated "Silverstone!” Lewis nodded, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n's cheeks flushed as she recalled the night. She looked at Lewis, a smile spreading across her face despite the lingering shock.

Lewis looked at her, his grin widening. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Y/n laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I guess we were celebrating more than just you that night."

"We were celebrating us" Lewis said, his voice filled with warmth and love. "And now, we have even more to celebrate."

He leaned in, kissing her tenderly, resting their foreheads against each other when they pulled back.

"We're going to be parents," she whispered, the reality finally settling in.

"We're going to be parents," Lewis echoed, his heart swelling with joy and excitement. "I love you, Y/n. And I love our little one so much already."

The Silverstone circuit buzzed with the electric energy of a crowd celebrating a hero’s homecoming. Lewis, now a Ferrari driver, had held his own, going from p3 at the starting line to the tallest step of the podium, beaming as the Union Jack waved above him.

After the race, the celebration shifted to a more intimate setting. Lewis’s family, Y/n, and a tight-knit group of friends gathered at a house in the countryside nearby. The energy of the race lingered, laughter and music filling the air. It was a night of toasts.

As the party slowly wound down, the house fell silent. Guests retired to their rooms, and the sun began to hint at its arrival on the horizon, leaving Lewis and Y/n by themselves in the garden, the weight of the day finally sinking in.

“Can you believe it?” Lewis whispered, his voice hoarse from cheering. He was sprawled on the couch, Y/n nestled against him.

“You were amazing,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m so proud of you.”

He kissed her forehead gently, his eyes closing as he felt the exhaustion wash over him. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll celebrate properly tomorrow.”

Y/n nodded, her eyelids heavy and he led them to their bedroom.

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the unknown room. Y/n stirred, her body snug against Lewis’s as he spooned her, one arms securely holding her close and the other serving as her pillow.

As she shifted, she felt a familiar pressure against her back. She turned slightly, her eyes opening to find Lewis still asleep, his breathing was steady, but she could feel his arousal pressing into her. A soft moan escaped his lips as he dreamt, his hips subtly moving against her.

Y/n smiled to herself, a gentle warmth spreading through her at the feeling of him. She shifted again, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning, champ,” she replied softly, turning her head to look at him.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling despite the lingering fatigue. “I must have been having a really good dream,” he joked, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip.

Y/n chuckled, pressing back against him. “I noticed” she teased rubbing her ass with a bit more vigor against him.

She could feel his arousal growing more insistent as his breaths came out in hisses. She bit her lip, considering their options. “Do you think anyone’s awake?” she whispered, glancing towards the door.

“Probably,” Lewis replied, his hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress her skin. “But we can be quiet.”

A shiver ran through her at his touch, and she nodded. “I doubt you’ll let me” her voice dropping to a whisper. He smiled mischievously, his fingers trailing up her side. “I’ll try,” he promised.

Slowly, he rolled her onto her side, spooning her again from behind. He nuzzled into her neck, his hand sliding down to the waistband of her shorts. She held her breath as his fingers slipped inside, brushing against her most sensitive spot.

She gasped softly, biting her lip to stifle the sound. “Lew” she breathed, her hips instinctively pressing back against him.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, teasing and exploring until she was panting with need. Her hands gripped the sheets, trying to stay quiet as he worked her up.

When he finally slid a finger inside her, she had to bite down on the pillow to keep from crying out. He added another finger, stretching her gently, his movements unhurried and tender. She could feel his breath hot against her neck, his own restraint evident in the way he held her.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yeah” she whispered, barely able to speak. “Please.”

He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he slowly pushed inside. She moaned softly, the feeling of him filling her almost overwhelming. He paused once he was fully seated, giving her time to adjust, the pause also helping him control his breathing.

When she took a deep breath, relaxing into the sensation of him with a “You can move.” he started with slow, gentle thrusts, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The rhythm was languid, each movement measured and precise. Y/n’s breaths came in short, quiet gasps, her body trembling with each stroke.

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, the occasional creak of the bed as they moved together. Every so often, she had to remind him to stay quiet, her whispers blending with his low grunts.

When he hit a particularly sensitive spot, she bit back a cry, his hand reaching to cover her mouth. She licked her fingers, his thrusts becoming more insistent with the scene.

“I can’t… I’m so close,” she panted, her voice muffled against his hand, her body arching against him.

“Just a little longer, love, I’m almost there.” He quickened his pace, each movement somehow reaching deeper.

Lewis’s body tensed, his toes curling as he felt her walls starting to flutter, and with a final, deep thrust, he came shortly after her, their bodies shaking with the intensity of it. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling her cries as Lewis held her tightly and lowly grunted into her neck.

For a moment, they lay there, catching their breath, the room filled with the soft glow of morning light. Finally, Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, just below where he had left his mark, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Best celebration ever,” he whispered, a satisfied smile on his face. Y/n laughed softly, turning her head to kiss him. “Next time though, we’ll wait until I can have my way with you, no muffed moans”

She chuckled, nuzzling into his neck. “Deal.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

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@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[vonlycaonwife]

Hello! I hope that you’re doing well! You were the first one I saw in my search bar, and I saw how dedicated you were about lycaon and the others characters, it’s really cool :D I hope that your requests are open, I would like to ask for a lycaon x shy reader (NSFW) fic, about the progress of their relationship, there can be mention of first time/how do they get along from beginning to now, etc, if it’s okay with you! Please do take your time! I look forward to it (*^^*)

Koi... I just wanted to say that you completely made me insane because I was BLUSHING THE WHOLE TIME WRITING THIS AAAA- also I completely focused on the first time because as soon as I saw those words I locked in lmao.

Also sorry for how long this took to finish

Warning: smut, fingering, knotting, afab reader, partially written before release

You and Lycaon had been in a relationship for a long time at this point, but the both of you had decided to take things extremely slow. Both because of your own insecurities with your body, and with him being sure because of his kind mating for life. Sure you two would do some makeouts and heavy petting, but it had never led to anything further than that.

That was until now, when you both were lip locked into a heated session. His hands were warm against your skin as they traveled under your shirt, your own hands were tightly grabbing at the fur on his neck. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, making you moan loudly. The loudness seemed to surprise him, making him pause and stop kissing you. You both were panting hard, a harsh flush on your faces.

“We should stop here.” Lycaon grunted out, his hands now on your hips to keep you in place.

Your eyes widened a bit, surprised at his words. But you honestly didn’t want to stop, you felt ready to finally take that step with your love. In an attempt to let your thoughts known you leaned forwards, pressing your chest against his as you tried to get the words out. “I…um.”

A small smile made its way to his face, clearly amused. “Use your words.”

“I-I don’t…do we have to stop?” You finally asked, face flushed in embarrassment. Your hands gripped onto his shirt in comfort, slightly trembling from nerves. But soon you realized with a thought that he might not be ready, he might not want to be permanently tied to you for any reason. You began to feel stupid for potentially making him uncomfortable. But before your thoughts could make you backtrack on your words, you felt him suddenly move fast, quickly pinning you down onto the bed below. You were frozen as you stared into his calculating eyes, studying your face and movements. It wasn’t often you saw that look in his eyes, the look of a predator studying its prey. 

“Do you want to continue?” He asked, leaning even closer to you.

“I-I mean we don't have to! I don't even know what I was saying! I-” You stuttered out, trying to take it back. But the way his stare turned slightly harsh and his grip on your waist tightened made you stop with a squeak. The two of you stared at one another for a moment before he finally spoke.

“Just be honest with me.”

You gulped down the last of your remaining confidence. “I…I want to…to uh…”

You could feel the heat from your cheeks as you attempted to word your thoughts. “I want to take the next step…if you want to, that is.”

He doesn't respond for a moment, seemingly to think it over. While you normally would be able to read him most of the time, this was one of those times you couldn't decipher what kind of thoughts were in his head. But luckily he seemed to already make a decision, leaning down to give a quick kiss to your forehead. “Alright, but are you really sure you're ready?”

“I’m just…worried.” He continued. “While I know I’ve warned you plenty of times, I’m not…I just don’t want to bring you any harm.”

“But, you wouldn’t let that happen.” You whispered, knowing his ears would be able to hear your words. You move your hands to cup his face, giving him a soft smile. “I…I really do want this.”

He looked into your eyes one more time, before he smiled back, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. His clawed hand made its way under your shirt, softly moving against your skin. You shivered at the feeling, your hands clutching onto his own shirt. Although you couldn’t get a good look at his face, you could tell he was still studying your reactions. Soon his hand reached just below your chest, traces shapes softly. His other hand had moved to meet with the first, bringing the cloth up along with it. He didn’t make any other moves, making you realize he was waiting for your permission. You nodded, allowing him to remove your shirt.

You could hear him inhale deeply as he studied your body, a small fire in his eyes. He gently moved his hands over your chest, finger tips softly pinching at your nipples. You gasped at the feeling, immediately moving a hand to cover your mouth. He let out a small growl in disapproval. “Don’t.”

You whimpered, removing your hand. You squeezed your thighs together, the harsh sound of his growls always made you more wet. You could tell he knew by the smirk on his face, but before you could say anything he leaned down to seal your lips together in a heated kiss. You gasped in surprise, giving him the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth. Soon you were moaning loud as both his tongue and his hands explored your mouth and chest, occasionally rolling your nipples to elicit even more from you. As he did this you felt his knee press against your sex, adding more stimulation. 

Your hands clutch onto his shirt tightly as he continued his ministrations on your chest, whimpering as you felt your body began to tremble from the pleasure slowly rising. When he released the kiss you could see his smugness in his eyes as he looked at your whimpering state, soon leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. His fangs teased your skin, making you stutter out his name in surprise. As he rarely liked to leave hickeys as for not wanting to go too far, but it seemed right now he had no such reservations.

Without you somehow noticing, probably due to all the new and old stimulus, his hand had replaced his knee and was slowly lowering your shorts. You gasped once realizing, hands clutching even tighter onto him. He paused for a second, seemingly hesitant, before you let out a begging whine, allowing him to remove your bottoms. His fingers gently traced your sex, trying to both not hurt you with his claws, but also lubricate his fingers with your slick. Once wet enough, he slowly inserts a digit, kissing your skin as you gasp.

You could feel his digit circle around inside, exploring where to touch that made you release louder noises. You could also feel him inhale your scent, shuddering a bit. He inserted a second one, carefully moving them so as to not cause any pain. You whimpered at the feeling of your walls being stretched by him, his fingers doing much more than what your own could do. 

He shushes you quietly, kissing your cheek tenderly. “It's okay, just gotta make sure you're prepared.”

“I-I know! It's just-” You moaned loud as he inserted a third finger, barely able to get any more words out as he curled his fingers just right to hit that spot your own could barely reach. You cried his name as the pleasure began to pulse through your veins, making you squirm under his body as a coil tightens inside. You barely heard him groan as you tightened around his digits, legs shuddered as the intense feeling began to become overwhelming.

But before it could reach its breaking point, he stops. Pulling his fingers out carefully, you could feel him tense as you whine out. He kisses your neck once more before lifting himself up to rest on his legs and quickly pulls his shirt off, chuckling when he catches you staring at his physique. He leaned down to give you a quick kiss, before trailing down to your neck, then your chest, and even further down. You clutched the bed sheets below, flustered as he went closer and closer to your sex. As he reaches the area, you yelp as his tongue swipes on your clit, swirling the bud around as he lightly sucked on it.

You could see his ears twitch at your gasps, clearly paying attention to your noises. His hands firmly grasp onto your shaking thighs, pushing them further apart to give him better access. You could feel him groan as he began to dive his tongue into your warmth, his grip tightening slightly. You moaned as the lost pleasure from the before came back at full force, making you shudder and cry in his hold. His nose prodded at the bundle of nerves as he attempted to thrust his tongue even further inside. If you hadn't closed your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, you would've noticed his tail moving behind him as he ate you out.

“A-Ah! Wait!” You tried to warn, but your words were interrupted by your own scream as the building orgasm finally tipped over the edge. Your body shook intensely as your veins flooded in pleasure. Your moans took a higher pitch as you began to feel another building up, back arching as the thirian refused to stop using his tongue to please you. “T-Too much!”

He seemed to not be listening, too absorbed in your taste to register your cries. His eyes were closed in concentration, groaning in pleasure as well. You reached a hand to grab a fistful of the fur on his head, finally snapping him out of his fixation. He growled, opening his eyes to glare at whatever stopped him, before he realized it was you. He stayed frozen as he stared at you panting wildly, barely able to catch your breath. His tight grip loosened, letting your legs some relief.

The look in his eyes was rare, the restraint he always had on him was close to disappearing. His muscles tensed as he breathed, trying to regain control of himself. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, trying to form some words. But before he could you gestured him to lean closer, kissing him as he complied very quickly. You both hummed, taking in the gentle kiss. Once you both stopped he looked down at you with such tenderness it almost made you cry.

“Are you really sure it's okay?” He asked, his hands cupping your face to keep you from looking away from him. “I don't know how much self control I'll have once we take that step.”

“I'm okay with that.” You responded, voice barely a whisper. “I want you, Lycaon.”

He inhaled at your words, his eyes darkening in lust. He kissed you quickly, diving his tongue once more into your mouth as he took his bottoms off. You whine as he grabs one leg to lift higher, his other carefully lining the head of his member against your folds. He leaned away to press his forehead against yours and look deep into your eyes. “One more chance to stop.”

“Please, just do it already!” You whined out, uncaring of how desperate you looked. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you felt his fur against your skin. He chuckled, taking you into another liplock as he finally thrust himself inside. You moan into his mouth as he slowly glides deeper and deeper in your warmth, swallowing his own moans. Once his hips meet yours, you both release the kiss but stay close, panting heavily. His hands keep a tight hold on your hips to prevent you from moving, as even the slightest made you hyper aware of how full you felt.

The stretch was something you knew would happen, but it didn't stop you from shivering. You closed your eyes to focus on anything else, adjusting to the feeling. Luckily it wasn't painful, but it was a sensation you weren't used to. You could feel him place small kisses along your jaw and neck in an attempt to soothe you, making you smile at the affection. Soon he began to move, slowly inching his length to and fro. You sighed in pleasure as you adjusted to the feeling of him moving, breath hitching whenever he prodded at that one spot that made you shudder.

But after some time you realized how tense he was, his eyes closed in concentration as the hand that wasn't holding your leg was almost tearing through the sheets. You felt bad at how much restraint he was forcing on himself, clearly still afraid of accidentally hurting you. Making a quick decision, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and opened your lips.

“M-More.” You stuttered, face flushing as he opened his eyes to stare at you. “Please!”

A growl slipped past his lips, his grip tightening. He quickly pressed his face against your neck, inhaling your scent again as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. Soon his pace began to speed up, but it still wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed him to not restrain himself. You plead out to him this and he growls in response.

“Do you know what you’re even asking?” He gets out, both hands now clawing into the sheets. “I can barely hold myself together.”

“Don’t!” You squeaked, his thrusts becoming rougher to emphasize his words. “I-I can handle it!”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes!”

Suddenly you felt his hands grab onto your legs, lifting them over his shoulders as he pressed his chest to yours. You arch your back as you feel him reach even deeper inside you. His hands clasp into yours, preventing them from moving as he bucks his hip with wild abandon. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

All you could feel was him, the way his hips slammed into yours, the way he folded you in half, the way his warmth encapsulated you, the way he held your hands gently yet firmly like it was his lifeline, the way he stared into your eyes with such passionate lust and love. It was beginning to be too much for your emotions, tears falling down your face as you felt your body spasm under him from orgasming. You could barely hear his words of encouragement, his voice soothing you for a moment, before you cried out as the pressure began to build quickly once more. You could even feel his own climax approaching by the way he growled into your hair. You hardly even noticed his knot beginning to swell, prodding at your entrance with every pivot of his hips. When you thought he would lean away, you begged him to stay. Honestly you didn’t even know what you were begging for at the moment, you just wanted him to stay close. 

And it seemed your pleads were what finally sent him over the edge. His teeth bite onto your neck, not deep enough to cause any bleeding but you knew you would feel it later, and his knot slammed inside. You shout as both of your orgasms hit, the pleasure washing over both of you like tidal waves. He quickly removes himself from your neck, pressing his li[s against yours as you both come down from your highs. You squirmed in his hold, the feeling of his seed inside you becoming a discomfort. “Feels weird.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled, nuzzling his muzzle into your cheek. “Give it a few moments.”

And just like he said, soon he removed his length from you. The both of you sighing at the lost feeling of being one. Your eyelids began to feel heavy, but his hands cupped your cheek. “Don’t fall asleep yet, love, let me clean you up.”

“Okay.” You said tiredly, unable to move since your body felt so heavy. He only shook his head and carefully lifted you into his arms, heading over to the bathroom with no hesitation to start the bathtub. He made sure to keep you awake as he softly ran his hands over your body, making sure to be extra careful of any accidental bruises he saw. Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of both you and himself, he lifted you up into his hold once more and walked back to bed.

He carefully placed you down on the mattress, choosing to ignore the small tear holes for now, quickly laying beside you and tucking you both under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around you tenderly, his tail moving to lay on top of your legs. You snuggled into his fluffy chest, the urge of sleep finally taking its hold on you.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[bookshelf-dust]

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 

“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 

Eddie says your name. 

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink. 

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[carlsangel]

YOU’RE WHINING

carl grimes x reader

(carls whining gets irritating.)

tags: oral sex (m!receiving), needy carl :P

masterlist here!

Carl was never really one to pry for things. He really did love taking care of you whenever he had the chance, he enjoyed the traditional ways of handling your relationship. He would love to hold doors open for you, let you enter places first (unless dangerous), cooking for you, or even when it came to your intimate relationship.

Most of the time, he did what he could to pleasure you. Whatever position allowed you to feel best, he did it for you. He also made sure you finished first every time. Not to mention he loves going down on you, not just because it pleasured you but he just absolutely adores it. Anyway, the first time you’d done something for him, he realized how nice it was to be to one receiving the head.

You didn’t realize how needy he could get before then. That man is vocal. The first time he let you give him head was when you guys were insanely bored while no one was home.

It’s a good thing no one was home as he practically couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Anyway since then he’s been begging for it again. Unfortunately there was never really a right time. You were always on runs and even then you were always having some sort of trouble whether it was walkers, issues with the car, even people. It all got worse when you were assigned on different jobs for a week. Aaron had found a new horse and you were put the task of breaking it. Meanwhile, Carl had perimeter watch.

After a long and frustrating day with the new horse, you pull her into a newly built stable to brush her down n such. Despite your struggles in breaking her, she was beautiful, you had to admit. You were just about done before you heard footsteps approaching, so you turn around to be greeted by the sight of Carl. He said he’d come meet you after his shift.

“Hey.” You smile and he almost swoons completely. He greets you back with a small hello and a kiss on the cheek before giving his attention to the horse in front of you. He stroked her for a moment before looking back at you, admiring how you looked. He wanted you to suck him off so bad, he was practically yearning for it. He felt this feeling in his throat, almost like a moan, but not. You look back over to him and look at him sort of oddly, wondering what the expression on his face was about.

“You okay?” You ask, sort of setting him off. Then he lets out a noise, one that sort of baffles you before he started rambling. “Please, I really need it can you-” His breath is heavy and he pulls his hat off to cover his crotch where you can assume there’s a tent in his jeans. Your eyes widen and you’re not quite sure how to respond. “Jesus, Carl you’re whining.” You state, completely taken aback by his demeanor.

“I know m’really sorry but I…I really need you to go down on me I’m begging here.” He takes a step closer to you and takes your hand in his, holding it real tight because he is, in fact, begging. “Just behind the stable, no one will see.” He pleads.

Well…how can you say no to that?

Soon after, you’re kneeling down in front of him in the grass between the large steel wall (of Alexandria) and the wood of the stables. He was right, no one would see you there but they could definitely hear you so you warn him. “You’re gonna need to be quiet.” You start to work on getting his belt off and he nods, his breath getting heavier the longer he sees you on your knees in front of him.

As you work on his belt, you decide to tease him a little because, why not? So you press kisses to his (very hard by the way) dick through his jeans, causing him to moan already. You haven’t even gotten to the real thing. “I told you baby you gotta be quiet.” You smile up at him and he looks down at you so frustrated. Frustrated because you’re teasing him and you know how long he’s been wanting this. Except, that only makes it hotter for him.

You finally get his belt unbuckled and you unbutton his jeans. You tug them down, along with his underwear, just to see how needy he really was. He was rock hard, he couldn’t help it with the way you looked when he walked into the stable, your hair a mess, tired eyes and sweaty. It got him really, really aroused. You take a hold of his length which draws a sharp hiss from his mouth.

Just looking up at him like the way you were prompted him to leak a little which you very clearly took notice considering you took that as a go ahead to take him in your mouth. “Oh god-” His arms were practically nailed to the wood behind him and you continued to take him, sliding his cock in and out of your mouth repeatedly, your saliva building up and following each movement of your mouth. Your other hand goes to the base of his cock and it sort of lingers there, your fingers gently massaging. It was taking everything in him to not rut his hips into your mouth.

“I can’t..” His hands now go to your hair where he gently tries to steady himself but he seriously can’t take it. The wet noises coming from your mouth as you still won’t stop. “Please baby I’m close.” He moans, prompting you to pull back a moment, pulling a whine from him as well. You still slowly twist your hand around his dick while you look up at him, admiring him and how gorgeous he looks. His bottom lip is red from biting it so hard trying to keep quiet, but his mouth is agape and he’s breathing so hard. Meanwhile his eyes are half lidded and he just looks so fucked out.

“Is this what you wanted?” You giggle and swirl your tongue around his tip, prodding your tongue into the slit of it. All the air leaves his body and eyes roll into the back of his head. He moans so fucking loud, your eyes widen at his volume. “If you don’t close your mouth I will stop.” You laugh and he nods, taking in a deep breath to get ready for you to start again.

“Good?” He looks down and nods yes. “Yeah, good.” So you start again, moving your hand with your mouth too, spreading the saliva down to cover him with it completely. You go back to bobbing your head at a steady pace, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. Carl resorted to just letting out soft groans, quiet enough for just the two of you to hear.

Soon enough, he was close again and this time you wouldn’t stop. You’d move quicker, taking more and more of him into your throat while he pushed your hair back out of your face. “M’gonna cum please don’t stop-” He speaks breathlessly and you comply, not stopping until he grips the back of your head still against him while the warm liquid spills down your throat. Once every drop is out of him, he lets go of your head and you pull away, doing everything you can to make it look somewhat attractive. A string of saliva follows your mouth from his dick.

You wipe your mouth with your sleeve and he gets himself back situated in his jeans. All he wants to do at this point is love on you. You treated him so well. He pulls you into a hug, leaning back against the stable wall while he kisses you all over your face.

“That good?”

“No that was incredible.”

a/n: so let’s talk about this LMFAOOOO LISTEN!!! i got this request and started writing it right after T-T and then finished it an hour after it was requested. where did that motivation come from? no idea. but also this made me realize i have never posted a fic where the reader gives him a blow job so…that might be why?

anyway this was very impromptu, match ups done soon blah blah ghost in the woods blah blah

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[caelesjjk]

𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕕 - 𝕛𝕛𝕜&𝕜𝕥𝕙

⟶ title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 7.6k ⟶ warnings: Mnetions of blood and a wound, drinking, Jungkook calls you Data and Taehyung calls you Pigeon, infidelity-ish?? (you'll see), two smut scenes: oral (female and male receiving) mutiple orgasms, overstim, unprotected sex (thats a no, wrap it up) few different positions, making out, sweet kisses, nipple stuff ⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings, its been such a long time. I apologize this took so long but it's finally here! I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of spidey!kook and venom!tae, they're truly my babies and I have loved writing them. This is only part one, I make no guarantees how quickly part two comes out, but I'll do my best I promise. I'm thinking probably four parts for this. enjoy! tell me all ur thots! Shoutout to M (@here2bbtstrash), Sav (@jeonjcngkook) and Kay (@tea4sykes) for looking this over and correcting my insanity and also assuring me that it's not terrible lol. Thank you all so much for your patience and help.

“So where is he?” your friend Penny says from across the table.

“He said he was coming.” You sigh, stirring your drink with the straw.

“He said that the last two times we were all supposed to study together.” Hoseok gives you a look that’s part sympathy and part annoyance.

“He’s working three part-time jobs. Not all of us have our parents paying for our apartments, Hobi.” You give him a playful glare and he returns it, followed by a poke of his tongue from between his lips.

Part of you wished you didn’t know Jungkook’s secret. That you could go back to the days where you were blissfully unaware of who he was. But back then, being stood up hurt even more because you didn’t know why.

Now you know. You know that Jungkook is Spider-Man. The infamous superhero  with powers he acquired from being bitten by a lab altered arachnid a few years ago.

He saved your life. Twice in fact. Both times it was because you were curious, too curious for your own good, and you had been suspecting something was going on with Jungkook. 

You followed him one night and watched in awe as he changed into his Spider-Man suit in an alleyway. And not just because he was Spider-Man, but because he was insanely gorgeous. You were hypnotized by the man who had been sitting next to you as your lab partner for most of the year. Who constantly hid his body beneath baggy clothes and bucket hats. 

You had always liked him a little more than you cared to admit. And after you found out the truth about him, your friendship grew into something more.

There weren’t any labels; you didn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, much to your dismay. But Jungkook always told you that if the wrong person found out about the two of you, they could use you to get to him. And he needed to be able to focus on his whole saving the world gig, and not constantly worry about your safety. 

You understood. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.

You manage to study a bit longer with your friends before deciding you were far too distracted. You call Jungkook on your walk back to your apartment, but of course he doesn't  answer. 

So now you wait. And you worry.

No matter how hot the shower water is as it hits your back, it doesn’t stop the worry. You just want him to be safe, even if he pissed you off by not showing up again. 

You wrap yourself in your favorite silky robe and get comfortable on your bed with some of your homework you didn’t finish with your friends, slowly getting immersed in all of the calculations and formulas that you love so much. They were a great distraction.

Not sure how long you’ve been studying, you get up to stretch and make your way to your apartment balcony, opening the doors and stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. 

The city is always loud, but up here it isn’t so bad. The traffic sounds far away and the lights are just flickers across the skyline. You might even think it was beautiful if it wasn’t for the constant bad lurking around every corner. Or maybe you had just heard too many scary things from Jungkook.

Sighing when he pops into your head again, you turn around to head back inside only to come face to face with the superhero in question. Seeing him hanging there upside down from your doorway startles you just enough to send you stumbling backwards towards your balcony.

Before you can get too far, or even fully scream, Jungkook is shooting a web at your torso, pulling you back and into his arms as he flips down onto his feet. Your head swims from how quickly it happens.

“Data, look at me.” Jungkook’s voice is slightly muffled through his mask. “It’s just me.”

“You scared me.” You look up at him as he removes his mask and shakes out his hair, eyes finally meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been…noisier.” Jungkook smiles and you almost forget that you’re angry with him. Almost.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing, it's  just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half-hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers. 

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are right in front of you, scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” he asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers really are something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality. 

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you,” you whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off and sit them on the countertop before his hands come up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. It’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth. 

“What does it want?” 

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. No one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours. “But Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Kim Seokjin, more famously known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He was helping Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school. 

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” you tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?” 

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.” 

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it, but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull back, but his other wrist shoots a web at your torso; using his inhuman strength, he pulls you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the solid feeling of being on the ground disappears and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge as he swings you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek. “Just another minute.”

You keep your eyes clamped shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to peek just the slightest bit. You see the sun setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

You soak in the feeling of Jungkook holding you so tightly because you never know when the next time may be. You hate to sound so dramatic in thinking that way, but it really is a guessing game sometimes . Your hands loosen and slide up into his hair, making him look down into your eyes and smile when he sees how fondly you’re looking back at him.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, even though there isn’t a single soul that could hear you up here.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth and then the other before the softness of his lips has your eyes fluttering closed. This kiss is only gentle brushes of lips, noses grazing in the sweetest way you can imagine, all the while Jungkook is still effortlessly swinging you between buildings.

He shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down. You kiss him once more before you open your eyes and look out at the nearly complete sunset…a thousand feet in the air.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” He kisses you again before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building, taking note of all the intricate filigree and gargoyle statues.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” You melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.” 

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body hot and on edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

Your chest heaves at the idea of being completely helpless. He’s taken away your control and your ability to touch him as you please. 

He makes quick work of the sleep pants you had been wearing, tossing them away to join the gargoyles on the rooftop. 

“Jungkook…” you whimper when he lowers himself between your legs and lies down on his stomach so he can be face to face with your heat.

“Relax, okay? I’m gonna make it up to you.” He kisses a path down your thigh, sucking gently and caressing with his tongue.

You arch your back from the ledge when he pushes your panties to the side and his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy. Just a sweet kiss at first, then a deep, swirling lick to your clit. You pull against the webbing trapping you in place, fingers begging to be in his hair.

If only the citizens of his precious city could see him right now. Face buried and tongue lapping just for you. All of it for you and not for them.

You can feel tears start to form in your eyes from the way your orgasm is already so close to crashing over you. Jungkook has spent quite a bit of time getting to know your body and memorizing the things he knows that you like.

“Come on my tongue, baby. I’ve got you.” Jungkook soothes before his mouth is back to devouring you.

One particularly harsh suck to your clit while his fingers finally join in on the fun is what sends you over the edge, clenching around his digits in spasms.

You’re lucky that no one could possibly hear you all the way up here. The moans and groans that you both make while Jungkook licks up every bit of your arousal are beyond obscene.

“Please get this web off of me,” you huff between breaths. Jungkook slowly raises his head and with a smile on his shiny face, reaches up and effortlessly rips the webbing from your wrists. 

You jolt upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your hands into his soft hair. Your mouths mold together automatically, your tongue tasting yourself from his lips.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook finally asks, pulling you into his lap.

“As long as I continue to pretend we aren’t thousands of feet in the air, I enjoyed it very much.” You both smile and you lean in to kiss the corner of his pierced lip. “You can’t always distract me with your extremely talented mouth though. I just…want you to try and be in my life.” You push some hair off of his forehead before he kisses your lips once more.

“It won’t always be this crazy, Data. I promise. I just want to make sure I help Jin as much as I can with this monster.” 

“I know.” You want to tell him that you wish you came first. That there’s always going to be another monster keeping you apart. But that’s the price you pay for loving a superhero. 

“Let me take you home?” He stands up, still holding you in his arms.

“Maybe let me put my pants back on first?” You laugh as he sets you down to retrieve your pants from a gargoyle statue. 

And then you’re back in his arms and swinging back to reality.

The sun is still warm even though fall is almost in full swing. Leaves are starting to change colors and slowly drop off the trees. You love the smell of them as they dance by you on the breeze.

Something you don’t love is the damn pigeons that have made their home in the nooks and crannies of all the old buildings on campus. They fly down from their nests and make nuisances of themselves with the students, trying to get pieces of food.

You’ve been continuously shooing them away as you attempt to do your homework. 

Sitting in the courtyard on top of a patchwork blanket, you’re lost in the numbers and formulas that keep you best distracted these days. So much so that you almost don’t see Jungkook before his head is in your lap and his smiling face is looking up at you, pigeons scattering about from his sudden movements.

“Good afternoon, Data,” he says cutely. You set down your notebook and pen, leaning down to kiss him.

“How nice to see you at school for once,” you tease, pulling his bottom lip gently between your teeth.

“Mm, things have been quiet for a couple of days. I got some sleep…and I missed you.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to lay down with him across the blanket.

“What are you doing?” You laugh and push against his chest.

“Making sure everyone sees me kissing you.” 

“Isn’t that dangerous?” You comb your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck. “If the wrong person sees?” 

Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours as his face scrunches in concentration. He abruptly sits up on his knees and you follow, looking around the courtyard.

“Something isn’t right.” Jungkook’s voice is low and quiet.

“What is it?” You continue to look around, seeing students walking to class or enjoying the sun in the courtyard like the two of you were.

Your eyes stop when you notice someone by the fountain taking photos with a professional type camera. His head of black messy hair is covered by a backwards black baseball hat. Long legs covered by snugly fit black jeans and his top half in a white button up, sleeves rolled halfway up in the most maddening way.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he’s suddenly looking right at you and you’re able to recognize who it is you’ve been drooling over. You feel embarrassment flood your face and body as you quickly look away, your heart racing in your chest.

Kim Taehyung. A photography student at your university. The best photography student if you remember correctly. You remember having a basic class with him your first year and he had seemed very nice. His smile was sweet, but the two of you didn’t talk to each other much at all. 

You did think he was absolutely stunning though, sometimes wishing you weren’t too shy to have spoken to him back then.

Your classes must have all been different after that, but you still see him around campus from time to time. Always taking pictures, but always alone. And last year he seemed to disappear altogether before reappearing when the new semester started.

When you get brave enough to look back up at him, you see he has his camera pointed at you, snapping pictures. You look away again so as not to alert Jungkook of what’s going on. Taehyung smiles when you look up out of the corner of your eye, before moving on to take pictures of something else. Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks, making you jump.

“I should be asking you that,” you manage to croak out.

“That weird sense of something being off is happening… I should go.” He starts to stand up and you grab his hand.

“What about this weekend? You’re still coming out with us right?”

He bends down and captures your lips in a quick but sweet kiss. “I promise I won’t miss it.” He gently nudges your forehead with his, making you roll your eyes with a smile as you watch him jog across the courtyard.

“Was that Jungkook?” Hoseok asks, sitting down across from you on the blanket.

“Um…yeah. He had to get to class,” you lie. Again. “Hey Hobi?”

“Yeah?” He stops grabbing books from his bag and looks up at you.

“What do you know about Kim Taehyung?” You nod towards the man with the camera, still taking pictures of some angel statues on the far side of the courtyard.

“He’s supposedly the best photography major at this school. He’s also…strange.” Hobi pretends to get a chill.

“Strange? Strange how?” You’re interest even more peaked than before.

“I don’t know, ____. I just heard some shit about him talking to himself all the time, and sometimes he comes to class all beat up.” Hobi brushes it off like it’s no big deal.

You don’t pester him any further, instead watching Taehyung as he takes a seat on a bench and starts scrolling through the pictures he’s taken on his camera. 

Maybe people are making things up about him because he’s different. People don’t like different for some reason. But you…you tend to be pulled towards the different. Or it tends to find you when you least expect it.

Saturday night has come and almost gone, and you’re still waiting for Jungkook to show up at Club Onyx to meet up with you and your friends. You’ve been waiting for hours and downing drinks the longer you go unanswered.

You’ve called and texted him over and over with no answer and are finally ready to just give up. Hobi gives you that pitiful look as you slam your phone face down onto the table.

“Fuck this, I’m getting another drink.” You don’t say it to anyone in particular and you don’t wait for anyone to answer before slipping into the crowd towards the bar.

“Can I get a Long Island please?” you ask the bartender when she approaches. You slouch down onto a barstool and see a familiar face on the other side of the bar.

Taehyung. Sitting with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. The hat you usually see him wear is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his curly black hair has been somewhat styled over his forehead. He’s still wearing a white button up, but he’s left the top buttons undone this time, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

“Here you go.” The bartender hands you your drink just in time for Taehyung to look up from his phone and see you already looking at him.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, taking your drink and making a break for the dance floor as quickly as you can. 

The song playing isn’t one that you know, but as you chug down your drink you start to care less and less about knowing the song and just let yourself go. You want to have a good time and not mope about Jungkook standing you up once again.

You let strangers grind against you as you move across the dance floor, arms raised above your head and your hips swaying to the beat of the song. You’re a little tipsy as you place your glass down on the nearest table, but not enough to not know what’s going on. 

A slower song starts to play with more of an r&b feeling. You watch as people start to pair off, the movements of their bodies making heat rush through you and settle on your cheeks and  neck. You start to turn back to find your friends when you feel an arm slide around your waist, making you jump from the suddenness of being touched.

“Easy there, Pigeon,” a voice as deep as the ocean and smoother than satin says against the shell of your ear.

You twist your neck almost too quickly, eyes landing on the face of Taehyung. Your breath nearly disappears completely seeing him this closely.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but you don’t try to move away from him. God, you should move away but you can’t.

“You need someone to dance with.” He smiles and says the words with a matter of fact tone.

“I should find my friends…” Your brain finally starts to catch up and you move from his hold.

“One dance, Pigeon. Would be a pity to waste such a good song.” 

“Why are you calling me Pigeon? I have a name.” You fold your arms over your chest.

“I know your name. But the pigeons at school seem to have really taken a liking to you, I couldn’t resist.” His boxy smile widens.

“You’re not being very convincing about this dance.” You try not to smile.

Taehyung puts his hand out asking silently one more time for you to dance with him. There’s that nagging feeling that you shouldn’t, but there’s a bigger part that says Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend, and he stood you up after he promised not to miss this night.

You take his hand.

Taehyung pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulls you towards him, spinning you around at the last second to press your back against his front. You gasp when you immediately feel him lean over you and press his face into your neck, his nose skimming your skin.

His big but delicate hands find your stomach, slithering down until they reach your hips, slightly bunching your dress in his fingers.

He gently moves his hips and grinds against your ass in the most tantalizing way, reminding you that you did in fact agree to dance. Taehyung groans quietly in your ear when the pace of your hips becomes quicker with more added pressure from your ass into his crotch.

You let yourself relax against him, head falling back against his shoulder and exposing more of your neck to him. His impatient mouth finds the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he kisses a soft line across your skin.

“Can’t believe your boyfriend would leave you all alone out here where the monsters can find you.” Taehyung's deep voice vibrates through your body and settles into your core.

“I don’t have a boyfriend…or monsters.” The words come out sounding breathless as he continues to press your body closer to his.

“We think you do.” His long tongue traces the shell of your ear. 

We? You let it go because your brain is too foggy with lust to wonder what that could even mean right now.

“I don’t,” you repeat, pushing thoughts of Jungkook away for just a night. Taehyung laughs quietly, pulling your lobe between his teeth as his hands move up your chest to cup your breasts.

You don’t even care who sees the way he’s touching you right now. You’re becoming so turned on that you know your panties have to be absolutely ruined at this point.

“Come home with me.” He spins you around to face him just as the song ends, your eyes fluttering open as he cups your face in his hands.

“That…I can’t.” Your eyes search his, hoping it will make you realize that you need to walk away. Instead, there’s something that tells you you’re safe, but that you’re also in for a world of trouble. You don’t know how you know, you just do.

“I’ll make you feel so good, Pigeon.” His mouth is almost on yours, lips just brushing as he whispers. This man is fucking undeniable.

“Okay,.” you cave. You just want to feel wanted. You want to matter more than a stranger on the street. You want Taehyung to make you forget how much it hurts when Jungkook lets you down over and over again.

“Good girl.” His warm mouth slots with yours as he kisses you feverishly. Like he’s been starving for years and your mouth is his only source of sustenance. It’s hot, fiery, and all-consuming.

Not even sure when his lips leave yours, you’re suddenly being pulled by your hand towards the club exit. Your brain clears and you look around for Hobi or any of your other friends but you don’t see them. And honestly, you hope that they don’t. You hope they didn’t see what happened on the dance floor and you hope they don’t see you leaving with someone who isn’t Jungkook. That would be far too messy to have to explain.

“Did you drive here?” You squeeze Taehyung’s hand and he pulls you closer to him.

“I did. I didn’t even finish my drink, I promise I’m safe to drive.” He eases your mind as the two of you push out of the door and turn towards the parking lot.

But your mind is only at ease for a mere minute before you realize that Taehyung is leading you towards what appears to be a very, very fast motorcycle. Everything on it is jet black and ridiculously sexy. You wish you weren’t absolutely terrified.

“I’m not getting on that.” You stop in your tracks.

“Why not?” Taehyung grabs the helmet off the back and offers it to you. “I’ll even give you the helmet.”

“I just…that looks dangerous.” 

“It is.”

“Glad you’re honest,” you half-laugh.

“The bike is dangerous, but I would never let anything happen to you, Pigeon.” Taehyung swings one of his long legs over the motorcycle, straddling it as he waits for you to make a decision.

“We hardly know each other, Taehyung.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t keep you safe on my motorcycle, or that we have to know everything about each other to feel something.” He holds the helmet out again and you feel your mouth go dry at his words.

The danger aside, there is no going back if you get on that motorcycle with him. There is no way you would have an untainted conscience ever again. Every time you were with Jungkook from this day on, you would have to think about the fact that at this moment, you also wanted Kim Taehyung to fuck you.

That should terrify you more than it does.

You grab your phone and quickly open it to see no messages or missed calls from Jungkook. Your answer gets a little clearer as you reach out and take the helmet from his hand.

“Carefully,” Taehyung says, taking one of your hands and guiding you to straddle the motorcycle behind him. You settle the helmet onto your head, and Taehyung smiles widely when he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re ready. 

When he starts the motorcycle, the vibrations from the engine immediately flood your body. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso as tightly as possible, and you wait once again for the world to go past you far too quickly. The same way it always does when Jungkook is swinging you between buildings.

When he pulls out of the parking lot, he doesn’t go too fast like you thought he would. He takes his time weaving between the cars and taxis, making his way through the busy streets and closer to the docks. 

You don’t entirely hate the motorcycle ride. Nor do you hate the way Taehyung laces his fingers through yours and holds them against his chest, or the way he brings your knuckles to his lips to brush a kiss against each one while he steers with the other hand. You don’t hate the way he sometimes moves that hand down to tap your thigh to let you know he’s about to make a sharp turn. You wish you hated the motorcycle ride.

Taehyung presses a button on his phone and a door on one of the warehouses starts to lift up. He pulls through it, parking the bike once inside. Your legs feel like jello when you take his hand to try and stand up, stumbling a bit in his hold.

“Okay there, Pigeon?” Taehyung grasps the sides of the helmet and helps you take it off. He sits it on the back of the bike before coming back to help you straighten out your helmet hair.

“It wasn’t terrible.” You smile and so does he, fire moving through your veins the longer your eyes stay locked with his. You quickly clear your throat. “So, you live in a warehouse?”

“I used to live in the city. It was just too…busy. I needed space.” He takes your hand and leads you towards some metal stairs. But before he does, you notice several more motorcycles parked inside the open part of the warehouse. Who is Kim Taehyung?

At the top of the stairs, it opens into a large open loft area that has a surprising feeling of comfort to it. There’s a kitchenette off to the right with just the necessities: a fridge, small table, stove and microwave.

The left side of the room appears to be the bedroom. A big messy bed sits against a headboard with intricate black vines carved into the wood. Soft pillows are haphazardly lying in all directions, some on the floor with their feathers scattered across the room. Taehyung visibly stiffens when he sees you notice them.

“Sorry about those…I think I might have a raccoon stuck in here somewhere.” He laughs and moves to kick the busted pillows under his bed.

Strange. He’s a little strange.

“Do you need something to drink?” he asks.

“Should I be worried about being here, Taehyung?” 

“What? No. No, I promise you’re safe.” He crosses the room and comes to stand in front of you, concern evident on his perfect face.

“I just…I don’t do things like this. I’ve never even had a one night stand.” You card a hand through your hair and Taehyung tips your chin up to look at him.

“Why does it need to be just one night?” His face softens and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

“Taehyung…I don’t know what I’m doing.” It’s barely a whisper.

His head tilts slightly to the side before it spasms slightly, an uncomfortable look painting his face as he shakes his head and gets the spasm under control. 

“Stop it.” Taehyung grits between his clenched teeth, mostly to himself.

“Are…are you okay?” Your worry grows by the second.

“Sorry…I’m sorry.” He cups your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I’m not scared of you.” It isn’t a lie. You aren’t scared, but something is off. And you’re too stupid to leave. “Should I be scared?”

“Not of me.” He speaks as if someone else is in the room. 

His mouth finds yours again and lust takes the place of worry and concern. Taehyung easily grabs your thighs and lifts you off the ground as if you weigh nothing at all.

The next moments are a blur of clothing being stripped and bare skin coming in contact with hands and lips. Teeth scrape over nipples and long fingers drown themselves inside your dripping pussy. The warehouse echos with the sounds of your moans and his deep groans.

After your first thigh shaking orgasm, Taehyung sits on the edge of his bed and you kneel in front of him between his knees, taking his far too perfect cock into your mouth. You worship him with your tongue and make him come down your throat, his hands tightly gripping your hair.

Chills run through your sweaty body as he bends you over his bed and eases his cock inside you. Stars explode behind your eyelids while your fingers grip the bed sheets.

“He doesn’t fuck you enough, does he Pigeon? You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung’s fingers dig harshly into your hips as he mercilessly pounds you from behind.

You can only moan in response, the coil in your stomach tightening and threatening to burst again. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes and stain the sheets you’re so desperately clinging to.

His fingers suddenly start to feel sharper, like they could pierce your skin at any moment, past the point of hurting in a good way.

“Stop,” Taehyung growls and the piercing feeling of his fingers starts to let up. If your brain wasn’t so fogged by your oncoming orgasm you may have questioned who the hell he was talking to.

“I’m so close,” you whine, feeling Taehyung press himself closer to you, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and pushing you deeper into the mattress. The new angle  makes you feel him so deeply that even your stomach clenches and the dam finally breaks; you’re falling off the edge of the most shattering orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

Taehyung’s hips stutter as you clench around him, making him moan deep in his chest. When you can no longer hold up your body, he grabs your shoulder and flips you onto your back, then immediately slides his cock back inside your overly sensitive pussy.

You’re so blissfully fucked that it takes you a moment to focus your eyesight on his face. Sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead as you lift your heavy arms and dig your fingers into his hair so you can pull his mouth down onto yours.

“I almost…I almost lost control. You feel so good.” His tongue swipes into your mouth as he angles himself to hit your g-spot with every hard thrust of his hips.

“Please come, Taehyung.” Your nails dig into his back and leave scratch marks across his skin.

“Never wanted anyone as much as I want you…fuck we want you so badly.” He buries his face into your neck as he thrusts once, twice more before you feel him spill inside of you. Hips bruisingly tight against yours as his cock twitches each time more cum fills you up.

“Holy shit.” You move your hands back to his hair and gently lift up to see his face. You swear when he looks at you that all the color has drained from his eyes. They’re solid white.

You gasp and blink once, seeing Taehyung’s pretty brown eyes looking back at you in less than a second.

“Wh-what was that?” You’re still panting.

“What was what, Pigeon?” He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek before he slowly pulls out and walks to his bathroom, giving you a chance to ogle his perfect little ass and the muscles of his back.

“I just…thought I saw something,” you say when he returns to the bed with a cloth for you to clean up with. You really need to get more sleep if you’re starting to see things.

“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung’s face is suddenly a lot more serious when he reaches out to run his fingers over the apple of your cheek.

You remember the way his hands felt on your hips. How they could’ve been on the verge of piercing through your skin. At least, that’s what you thought when it was happening.

Looking down at your hips, there’s obvious red marks from fingertips, but also scratch marks that just don’t seem like they could’ve come from Taehyung’s short cut nails. What the hell?

“I um…I think I’m okay.” You pull the covers up over your hips a little, hoping he won’t see.

“You should sleep here. I can take you home in the morning, I’m just too sleepy right now.” He pouts his mouth a little and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his side.

“Okay.” You’re admittedly too spent to call an Uber or argue with him about taking you home tonight. You just need to sleep. Sleep will fix everything. Tomorrow you will wake up and not feel like you’re losing your entire mind.

“…don’t ever fucking do that again…” You hear part of a conversation in your half asleep state. “I swear if you would have hurt her…”

Who the hell is Taehyung talking to in the middle of the night?

“She’s with the spider….liability.” A deep inhuman voice fills the empty air. Your eyes shoot open wide and every nerve is suddenly completely wired.

Are they…are they talking about Jungkook?

“She’s not. She said she’s not,” Taehyung’s voice answers, stress evident in his words.

“We should eat her now…” 

“No! You’ll have to kill me if you think you’re ever touching her. And we both know you can’t do that,” Taehyung yells.

You wrap the thin sheet around your naked body and slowly move towards the railing that overlooks the open part of the warehouse downstairs. You stay back far enough so not to alert anyone of your presence.

Looking down, you see Taehyung sitting at a table with his back towards you, wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips and nothing else. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

And that’s when it seems like the shadows around him start to move and your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Because not only do they move, but they have a face. A terrifying face that is seeping from the back of Taehyung’s neck and moving around him …as it talks.

“You’re weak for her,” the monster growls deeply, its huge teeth and unnaturally long tongue becoming more apparent as it moves into the light.

“We had a deal.” Taehyung seethes. “I’m literally the only person you haven’t killed when you bonded with them. You need me to get your symbiote friends home and I need you to take down that fucking lab.”

You can barely believe what you’re seeing or hearing. Is this the monster Jungkook was talking about? The one breaking into the lab across the river?

“Aren’t we friends?” The monster asks in a condescending way.

“Not if you hurt ____. She has no idea what she’s in the middle of and it should stay that way.” Taehyung holds his arms out straight and the monster starts to wrap its moving pitch black skin around him…its skin becoming his.

You’re so startled by the sight in front of you that you stumble back, knocking over an end table full of magazines and books. Fuck.

“Shit,” you hear Taehyung say before the monster has completely consumed him. What stands in his place is something you will never forget for the rest of your life.

The monster must be at least 8 feet tall, huge bulking muscles made of that inhuman black skin that constantly appears to be moving. Its  huge white eyes land right on you immediately, its  mouth and teeth pulling into a wicked smile as it jumps into the air and clears the railing in a single leap. You scream as the ground crunches beneath its feet when it lands in front of you.

The monster looms over you and all the breath in your lungs disappears.

“What…what are you?” you croak, fear freezing you in place.

“We…are Venom.”

taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies

series masterlist | main masterlist | Part Two

[17020]

# I HEART PUBLIC RELATIONS (2)

in order to your boost your popularity as a lifestyle influencer, your manager decides to partner up with anri teieri and jinpachi ego, for a pr stunt with a man from one of japan's most famous content houses: BLUE LOCK.

the rules are simple: choose a man, post three videos together a week, post an (undisclosed) ad weekly, and interact with each other on social media. ooh! don't forget! the more chemistry between you two, the better.

STARRING . . . reo mikage, nagi seishiro, tabito karasu, yo hiori. fem reader!

CANDIDATE 5 — REO MIKAGE

USER: MIKAGE FOLLOWERS: 1.1M (100k were bought) CATEGORY: LIFESTYLE/FOOD

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

you knew you were in for a wild ride once you stepped into the house and saw none other than the heir of mikage corp standing there, pointing his finger at you and stating "she looks pretty! i'd like to work with her." as if he was the one who got to choose. nonetheless, you agreed to work with reo as he seemed like a pretty loaded interesting guy.

turns out, reo is very sweet. the first tiktok you filmed with him was for his account, in which he offered to take you on a shopping spree, with him and you making silly outfits for one another (just casually picking the ugliest clothes in gucci??) and then trying them on in the dressing room. you were filming a vlog for your account too, and you were surprised when reo surprised you with a very stylish outfit for you and him, to "go catch some dinner tomorrow." wow mikage, very smooth. comments went insane because 1. who are you? new friend? untold lore? 2. you are drop dead gorgeous even in the trash outfits that reo picked for you? and 3. please be in more of reo's videos!!

the second tiktok was a dance trend, the da' dip dance. it was done in very uncomfortable clothes, which were the ones reo bought the day before. it was funny to see reo dancing in a suit and tie, and you with a floor-length gown, in the content house. nagi appeared in the background as he was in the kitchen, which caught the attention of viewers. you posted the same dance, except it was filmed inside the restaurant, because with reo mikage, there is no such thing as shame. he cleared the restaurant out anyway because he wanted privacy, though, so the only preying eyes were those of the servers. reo was visibly flushed in the video, and his excuse was the poor lighting of the restaurant. girl that restaurant had better lighting than a photography studio you are not fooling anyone.

the last tiktok you filmed with him was... a food review! reo's comments are always flooded with "oh my god when does this guy ever eat peasant food", so you listened and brought him some of your favorite fast foods for him to try. wingstop is the biggest hit as of now, so you ordered some wings and tenders through a delivery app for him to give an honest review. people loved your video, as they felt they could connect with you and reo over something so mundane. viewers commented on the fact that you and reo looked like and acted like a married couple, which ended up boosting both your accounts even more.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . HELLO FRESH!

we know that reo's meals since he joined the content house were all takeout from fancy restaurants. so when he got approached by hello fresh for a partnership, he agreed in a heartbeat. he made a video with you, the two of you preparing a nice, healthy dinner with the package from hello fresh, captioning the video "date night at home!" with clips of him behind you helping you cut some vegetables, making juice standing next to one another, and hands brushing every so often. fans were amused that reo finally opted for something other than takeout, instead preferring to spend quality time with you by cooking.

"Baya doesn't cook for me anymore, so me and bae always count on @.hellofresh #hellofreshpartner #ad"

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

because reo's lifestyle is extremely lavish, and you were one of the few who got to experience it to the fullest. reo looked like a lovesick puppy around you, and it wasn't hard to notice. he spoiled you rotten, and people could tell due to how your room slowly became flooded with designer after the first week of filming with reo. lovebombing much? the stunt was marvelous, with each of you gaining around 500k followers from it. to celebrate, reo booked a villa in marbella for the two of you to unwind and relax, wanting time for the two of you to get to know one another. plus, more content for the socials!

CANDIDATE 6 — SEISHIRO NAGI

USER: NAGI (reo bought it for him) FOLLOWERS: 940k CATEGORY: GAMING/LIFESTYLE(?)

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

the reason nagi actually went viral is interesting, which is why your management team chose him for you. he went viral because he was in reo's video in the background, and people began to fawn over the shy giant on their screen. he started streaming on twitch and also posting a few tiktoks, which gave him a boost on his overall social media presence. his management came into contact with yours for the stunt because they desperately wanted him to reach 1 million followers.

the first tiktok you filmed on his account was entirely on accident. you were going to film a vlog with him at the house as he didn't want to leave the house at all that day. he pressed record on his phone, and accidentally cut the video way too short. in the frame were you and him, with him saying "um, is this thing on?" and you trying to fix the framing of the camera, "nagi, can you move the cam—" and the video got posted instead of being saved as a funny draft. people were confused as to why that was posted, but it got around 10 million views. fans wanted to know who you were, and they were going to find out soon.

the second tiktok you filmed was for your account, with you preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner as the "private chef of a famous lazy influencer", it didn't take long for people to put two and two together, seeing nagi in the background and making the video go viral. fans were happy that nagi was finally eating something healthy, and they loved the way in which you laughed at his sleepy self wandering around the kitchen, and also adoring his cute reactions to your food.

for the last tiktok, you gathered clips from nagi's stream, in which you and him played dress to impress. he had bought the two of you vip before filming, which made the competition between you two even funnier. nagi's outfits were absolutely horrendous, with the comments begging you to help him out. he agreed, saying that "i mean, y/n's beautiful and she's got great taste, so she needs to help me out." people did not know what your beauty had to do with your taste in fashion, and came to the conclusion that nagi was beginning to harvest feelings for you. he was way too blunt for his own good.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . CELSIUS!

nagi got reached out to by celsius, as his brand as a gamer required him to constantly be sipping on energy drinks. he filmed the ad with you, as the video focused on you and him sitting next to one another, his head on top of yours. nagi took a sip of the celsius can and then passed on to you, with you doing the same. nagi was too lazy to come up with his own caption, so he copied and pasted one of the many which celsius sent him as an idea. people noticed right away because 1. seishiro nagi does not use caps. 2. seishiro nagi does not use emojis. 3. seishiro nagi does not add captions to his tiktoks. people laughed at his laziness, and saw how he genuinely smiled in the ad by sharing his drink with you. there was a ship name created, and the tag started trending...

You KNOW it's serious when you share a Celsius... 😘❤️👀 @.celsiusuk #Celsiuspartner

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

because nagi smiled whenever he was with you. he started being less aloof in his videos and streams, which caught the attention of the public. they started to wonder what kind of drug you were, because you had nagi HOOKED. he was looking only at you on every video you filmed with him, and he looked for every excuse possible for him to be close to you. it was like watching a little kid fall in love, and you both gained 300k followers from it. when he hit one million followers, you decided to throw a mini surprise for him in his room, and when the video was posted, people saw that for the first time, seishiro nagi willingly threw himself at someone with a biiiig bear hug.

CANDIDATE 7 — TABITO KARASU

USER: OSAKASSASSIN FOLLOWERS: 760k CATEGORY: PSYCHOLOGY/LIFESTYLE

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

when you entered the house and saw none other than tiktok's clown psychologist tabito karasu, you held in your laugh. yes, he loved to analyze people, but that ended up combining with thirst traps and becoming his social media personality. once you got to know him when planning, you realized he wasn't that bad at all.

of course, the first thing karasu suggested you do was a mini series of "advice on how to get a girl" in which he explains the most basic advice on how to ask someone on a date. i wouldn't be surprised if his fanbase were children aspiring to be him, but anywho. he starts off by filming a "so you know how i'm always preaching about how to treat a woman right? we're gonna put it to the test" and proceeds to take you on the best date of your life. he surprises you with flowers, drives you to a nice restaurant, pays for your dinner, takes you for ice cream, and the high and mighty tabito karasu lets you win at every game in the arcade he drags you to. the end of the tiktok contains a screenshot of your text saying "i'd go out with you again :)" and the fans went off in the comments. he didn't show your face, but he did mention that he helped take pictures of you with the plushie he won for you at the arcade.

the second tiktok was on your account, which was an aesthetic video of "come to the arcade with me!" and included clips of the date without seeing karasu. except for the fact that there was a clip of you and the plushie, to which people asked "who took the picture???" your response? "the worker! :)" and all of a sudden people were commenting on karasu's tiktok "yo you working in an arcade now???" and "did you take @.yn out on a date???" yeahhh. you posted on your instagram with the plushie, and also a pic of two ice cream cones, with the caption "late nights" and karasu was tagged at the very end. there were more than 100k comments on your post, gushing about how the two of you seemed like a cute couple.

the final tiktok was a dance trend, filmed at your home (karasu insisted, because "the house is too crowded, and it would ruin the tiktok" ok pretty boy). it was the dumb dick dance, and what karasu didn't expect was for you to not do the dance and hit him straight in the nutsack instead. karasu fell to the floor and people thought it was so funny that the king of rizz got absolutely owned by his date. some people strted commenting "deserved omg i can't stand the guy" to which you replied "well now he can't stand either!!!" you became an icon in the eyes of the public. congratulations.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . POPPI!

another drink guy! karasu partnered up with poppi's healthy sodas because sodas magically cure depression. don't ask me! ask dr karasu. his ad for poppi included a fridge restock, with the whole upper shelf of the fridge being different poppi flavors, as "my girl likes sodas, so i wanna make sure she gets the best of the best. stay healthy, choose poppi." queue the montage of you and him being happy drinking doc pop and the comments saying "for fucks sake just buy regular dr pepper.... cute tiktok i suppose." people were divided, as some said to buy regular coke, and some said the lovesick look you had while filming made them accidentally buy 500 poppi cans.

cleanse your gut, cleanse your mind ✨ @.poppi #poppipartner

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

because karasu is one flirty hoe. he was constantly referring to you as the 'baddie' on his videos, and always having his arm around you. people pointed out that since being with you online, he stopped posting thirst traps, and when asked why, he simply answered "those are for my girl now :)" this man was in too deep he cleared the roster. he cleared his online bench. for a stunt? mhhhmm. you both gained around 100k followers, as your fanbases already knew one another. it was bound to happen. karasu asked you to be his girlfriend around a month after the stunt, and you knew it was coming due to the change in his content from "how to get every girl" to "how to get THE girl". the internet knew something was up when he suddenly started posting "how to be a good boyfriend" cheers to the newlyweds!

CANDIDATE 8 — YO HIORI

USER: HIORIYOOH FOLLOWERS: 1.3M CATEGORY: GAMING/TECH

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

you didn't even have to go inside the house, as hiori had sent you a dm about a potential collab due to his management team and yours coming to contact with one another. you did a stream playing dress to impress, in which hiori commented "let's play together sometime! check your dm :-)" (written by karasu, sent by karasu) and you agreed to his invite to play roblox together.

hiori isn't on tiktok much, so the first tiktok you did was a promo for his livestream, in which you and him decided to play chained together. it was funny to see hiori and you yell and struggle, eventually giving up on the game and ordering takeout while on live, and just becoming a regular hangout. hiori showed a side of himself no one expected him to have—a sociable, extroverted side of himself, as you were so easy to talk to according to him. he was all giggles and smiles with you, which is why he ordered takeout as an excuse to spend more time with you. hiori ended the live and continued getting to know you, with his social media being confused as to why he decided to stop the live so suddenly, with the words "HIORI", "LIVE", "Y/N", "SIMP", and "STOP" trending on x.

the second tiktok filmed was on your account, which was a comic con vlog. hiori was invited as he was a streamer, and he took you with him as his plus one. he asked to cosplay with you, with him being link and asking you to be zelda. cosplay was actually a big word, as you did inspired outfits, but they were obvious enough for everyone to know who you were. which inspired lots of fan pictures, with hiori fan accounts posting them and being like "the couple is at comic con!!!" and starting huge threads on every interaction you two had. the pictures fans took all focused on one thing: hiori's reactions when speaking with you. all smiles by the way. who is this man???

the final tiktok was for your account, and you planned this along with nanase and isagi. you went to the house as hiori had invited you to film both of you playing league of legends before the second part of arcane came out. you and the boys stood outside of hiori's room, knocking the door. once hiori opened it, isagi threw a bouquet towards hiori, with you catching it before it hit him. you couldn't even ask if he was alright, as you got so lost in his eyes. so did he. it went viral. hiori was a whole tomato umemiya could have easily planted in his garden. hiori was definitely shocked and flustered while you filmed content for his socials, causing the internet to make youtube compilations of every time hiori smiled or blushed at the sight of you. millions of views.... millions.

(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . RAID SHADOW LEGENDS!

there's no surprised he partnered up with raid, as most youtubers do. in order to do the ad, though, he made a SKIT. those typical, drew gooden-esque skits in order to introduce the ad in his video with you, with you participating with him, and even playing raid shadow legends alongside him. since it was a video, there was a clear indication that this was an ad, and people noticed how. again. you were the first person who brought him out of his shell to do a small skit for an ad. fans adored how you and him held in your laughs while filming, and even showed the bloopers for the ad at the end. in the bloopers, though, while you were in frame playing raid, hiori whispered that "you look real pretty here, y/n." he didn't edit his videos because he has an editing team, so when the video was published he noticed that fans could hear his off-screen commentary loud and clear. oops! someone fire the editing team real quick.

"you look real pretty here, y/n—anyway um, okay—look at the screen on your phone, then at the camera and say 'this video is sponsored by raid shadow legends" "this video is sponsored by raid shadow LEGENDS 💜" "how did you do that—"

THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .

hiori is an absolute sweetheart, whose face went beet red whenever you complimented him in every video. like isagi, mans is shy, give him a break, okay? whether it was your hands brushing against one another, or shoulders bumping while filming, you could see hiori tense up and have his face on fire from how hot it was. his eyes never left your figure if they weren't on the screen in front of him, which said a lot to his og fans. they witnessed a change in hiori, for the better! thanks to you, hiori started to bloom. due to this stunt, both of you gained almost 1 million followers, as the slow-burn was that interesting. hiori gained the balls to ask you out after that. people suspected that perhaps you were dating, but you always said you were really good friends. around five months later, the cat came out of the bag as there were pictures of you two leaving the same apartment, to which you had to clear the air. you had moved into hiori's apartment two months ago.

taglist (open, yippee!): @kaiser1ns @stunies @ryescapades @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @heartkaji @maruflix @phinbie @vinomino @kunitsyn

[caelivir]

red lips, dying for a kiss | rayne ames

— synopsis. in which rayne discovers that red lip combos are his weakness.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. university au, friends-ish to lovers, rayne has a little bit of a crush

— word count. 2.3k

— warnings. very brief violence mention in the beginning, alcohol consumption (rayne and reader are 21 in this), making out (i tried to keep it brief), ooc rayne but he’s kinda drunk so

— notes. breaking theme for this one but it’s okay. i wanted to drop this on valentine’s day… clearly that didn’t work out. also as i go to post this hidden lights reached 1k notes which is absolutely insane to think of. thank you for giving it so much love. anyway, happy 100 followers! thanks for sticking with me. enjoy!

dedicated to all the rayne girlies. i pray we find (or already have) a man like him. ♡

ryoh’s parties are always a bad idea. rayne can’t count the number of times something has gone wrong. cops show up. someone locks every single bathroom from the inside. a dumbass jumps off the roof and into the pool. any incident you could think of has probably happened. the last one rayne went to nearly got him screwed over when he fought against a guy picking on his brother, and it was not pretty (for the other guy) to say the least.

from that moment on, rayne had made the decision to never attend another one of ryoh’s parties. it doesn’t matter who begged him or what the circumstances were. no one was going to change his mind on that.

unfortunately, ryoh grantz would not have that. it took three days and a two hundred dollar bribe to convince rayne to go because who would he be if not taking advantage of the rich.

so that’s where he finds himself now, standing in a circle with his friends as music blasts in ryoh’s mansion. they talk about who knows what as rayne wishes he could go home. he has to see it out though because this would be the easiest two hundred dollars he would ever make.

his second red solo cup of the night is filled with some unknown (but surprisingly delicious) concoction that sits untouched. he swirls the cup around in his hand, his eyes darting around the room for an escape.

rayne chugs his entire drink down, setting the empty cup on the first surface he finds before mumbling an excuse of having to use the bathroom, not caring whether his friends heard it or not. he stops by the kitchen to rummage through a cooler, skin freezing as he digs through the ice. he finds two cans of a beer brand that he likes.

he weaves through the crowd in the living room, trying his best to not bump into anyone or spill any drinks because the last thing he needs is another altercation.

unfortunately for him, life always has a curveball in store for him.

“hey, look! (y/n)’s here!” someone had yelled, causing people to push closer towards the front door. the flow carries him closer despite his protests.

the half blonde finds you easily. it’s hard to miss your bright smile, even in a room surrounded by dozens. a crowd surrounds you and your group of friends. they greet you with hellos, offer drinks, and fight for your attention. you try your best to address everyone as you and your friends inch closer to the dance floor.

rayne knows you. your friend groups overlap often so he was bound to meet you at one point. you're popular around campus, known for your friendly nature, kind acts, and most of all, you're known for your beauty. he hears about a new attempt to gain your affection almost weekly. you never seem to accept them for some odd reason. it doesn't matter who it is. the d1 basketball prodigy? the rich girl in your philosophy class? they'd be rejected all the same. your lack of care for relationships has sparked up rumors, but even those never seem to faze you.

as for his opinion on you, rayne acutally likes you, which is a rare feat considering that the half-blonde cannot stand the presence of most people. but in this case, he likes you. he has the smallest of crushes that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone except his brother, maybe.

in the times your paths had crossed, you had been an easy person to be around, never doing anything to irritate him and always trying to include him in every conversation and activity. it makes him feel all warm inside. the thought of it brings the ghost of a smile onto his face.

he also can't deny that you are indeed one of the most beautiful people that he's ever come across. you would have to be a fool to try and deny that. it's a little shallow on his part to like you partly for your looks, but he can't help it when your smile has the power to blind angels.

"rayne?" your head tilts, surprise written all over your face. he locates two shots in your hands. "woah, i'm surprised you're here! people said you wouldn't come to these anymore!"

rayne is barely to pick up the sound of your voice over all the music. "got paid to be here." he speaks loudly, avoiding yelling as much as he can.

"well, that's one way to get someone to come to a party." you giggle.

it's at this point where rayne closely inspects your face. his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips, colored in a combination of reds. he's never seen it on you before, and paired with the rest of the makeup on your face, it stands out, commands attention.

and it looks… really fucking good. rayne takes the sight of you in fully. yeah, you look really fucking good tonight. the half-blonde gulps, forcing his eyes back up to your face.

"take this with me!" you urge rayne, holding out a plastic shot glass to him.

unwilling to bring himself to say no to you, rayne sighs, accepting it. the two of you raise your glasses up in a silent toast before pressing the plastic to his lips, tilting his head back, and letting the alcohol slide down his throat. it burns. it tastes horrid on his tastebuds. the half-blonde scrunches his nose in disgust, and you take the empty glass from him, how you went unbothered by such a disgusting beverage is beyond him.

as much as rayne wishes he could be with you, he desperately longs to find someplace quiet. the bass of the music pounds against his head. "i'll see you around, (y/n). have fun tonight. be safe." rayne says.

"oh okay. see you rayne." you frown, but maybe that's just the lighting messing with him. he swears there's disappointment laced in your voice, but that could also just be the alcohol playing games with him.

rayne makes his way upstairs. he prays that he won't barge into people having sex. luckily for him, it's still early, and the room that he chooses, the one at the very end of the hall, is empty. he relaxes the moment he locks the door as if a weight was being lifted off him.

the half-blonde sets his unopened beers onto the nightstand and lies on the made bed. he stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, contemplating his life choices. his thoughts drift to you and your gorgeous lips, but he’s quick to dismiss them. when he’s finished with that, he cracks open his first beer, leaving a ring of condensation on the nightstand, and opens up his phone.

the next hour or so is spent watching compilations of bunnies and sipping on his beers. it’s perfectly fine like this. save for the bass of the music bouncing against the walls, it’s peaceful. he feels the effects of the alcohol he drank humming in his veins. it puts him into a lighter mood. however, that peace is disturbed when there’s a loud pounding on the door.

“what the hell?” rayne mumbles under his breath. did someone confuse this room for the bathroom? the half-blonde pulls himself out of bed, unlocks the door, and cracks it open just a little bit to see who it is.

“rayne, is that you? oh my god, please let me in.” you beg, clasping your hands together in prayer.

confused, but without any complaint, he allows you into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

you practically collapse on the edge of the bed, and rayne can sense that something is amiss.

“are you alright?” he asks cautiously, standing a foot away from you.

“do you ever just get sick of people?” you ponder suddenly, shooting to sit straight up.

“sure.” rayne shrugs, still unmoving from his spot.

“you can’t tell anyone i told you this,” you point at him with narrowed eyes, voice slurred. “swear you won’t.”

“i won’t.”

“good.” you nod. “as i was saying, i get so sick of people sometimes. being popular is fucking exhausting. i don’t know how much longer i can keep up with this. i swear i can’t enjoy things on my own time without people barging in or commenting on it.

“i can’t sit on a couch to catch my breath without people wanting to talk to me. not that that’s bad of course, i love talking to people, but christ, just back up a bit. like can’t they just take a hint and realize that i don’t want to talk? do you get that?”

rayne nods. “must be rough.”

“it is,” you groan and then sigh, standing up to dust off your clothes. you stumble from dizziness after having gotten up too fast. however, you shake the feeling out. “sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. that was a stupid thing to complain about.”

“no, it wasn’t.” rayne argues. “people who are always in your space are fucking annoying. i would know so there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.” at this point, he could tell the alcohol is doing its number on him, making him more vocal and bold.

“do i annoy you, rayne?” you ask, eyelashes batting at him, this innocent worry behind your eyes. it drives him mad.

“no.” he says sternly, inching closer, his gaze falling to your crimson lips. that damn red lipstick. he wonders what would happen if he were to mess it up. what would happen if he were to ruin that precise lining of color? what you let him cross that line? in his tipsy state of mind, he wants to find out.

“are you sure? because i know whenever we see each other i kinda cling to you, but if that bothers you, just let me know. really it’s no-” you ramble before rayne cuts you off.

“i want to kiss you.” the half-blonde mutters. his eyes stare deep into your own. your eyebrows raise in shock.

"huh?"

"i want" rayne's hand flexes at his side as he exhales, resisting the urge to touch you. "to kiss you."

"why?" you whisper so quietly that he almost didn't hear you.

maybe this is a reckless decision. maybe he shouldn't be risking a friendship with a drunken mind, but honestly in the moment, he really couldn't care less. he can regret it in the morning if things fell apart.

"i like you." rayne admits.

a moment of silence falls onto the room. you stare and stare, sinking your eyes deep into rayne’s as his confession weighs further down onto you.

“oh thank god.” you exhale, pulling rayne in by his shirt.

rayne practically melts into the feeling of your lips, soft against his own. he can taste faint traces of alcohol on you. he places his hands on your hips to press your bodies together. his palms explore your figure, circling around your lower back, trailing upwards to your ribs and back down to your waist. your hands entangle themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan out of him.

kissing you is a feeling like no other. it’s straight euphoria, maybe even something greater than that. the butterflies flap violently on his stomach. fireworks ignite his blood. being with you is like soaring across the sky.

you deepen the kiss, exploring each other with such desperation that it makes you dizzy. his tongue moves against yours in perfect sync, as if it were a choreographed dance. by the time you pull away to catch air, you and rayne are breathless, huffing as the half-blonde rests his forehead against yours.

you beautiful red lipstick is now smeared across your mouth, staining at the corners and below the chin. rayne pulls his head back. his fingers graze over your lips, admiring the mess. he’s sure it transferred onto him as well.

“you got something right there.” you joke, pointing at him.

“shut up.” he whispers. however, a smile breaks out onto his face, betraying his words.

“so,” you say, snaking your arms around the half-blonde’s waist. “the rayne ames has a crush on me? i never thought i’d see the day.”

he hums as confirmation. “would i be wrong to guess that you like me too?”

“no.” you grin. “in fact, you’d be one hundred percent right.”

“wonderful.” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss. you turn your head, having him miss your mouth entirely.

“i’m starting to believe you only like me so you could have a make out partner.” you tease, causing the half-blonde to sigh at your antics.

“i like you because you’re kind.”

he pecks one cheek.

“because you’re fun.”

he pecks the other.

“because you’re intelligent.”

he presses his stained lips to your forehead.

“because you’re so beautiful.”

rayne kisses the tip of your nose.

“my beautiful, (y/n).” he mumbles with a barely noticeable slur, cupping your face.

“you should drink more often. i like this side of you.” you comment, looking up at him with a gaze that drives him crazy.

“please just let me kiss you again.” rayne quietly begs, his mouth centimeters from yours.

“kiss me whenever you want.” you whisper before colliding with him once more.

in the morning, ryoh has to pick the lock to get into the guest bedroom. he stumbles in pissed off and ready to blow up on the person who dared to put him through such a hassle.

however, the sight he walks into flips his mood instantly. ryoh finds you and rayne tangled in each other’s arms completely knocked out. upon closer inspection, he notes the matching lipstick stains on both of your mouths, and a knowing smirk spreads across his face.

the blonde man pulls out his phone, snapping pictures in different angles to solidify this moment in history.

“he better thank me for this.” ryoh says to himself before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

[icallhimjoey]

hi hello yes

sorry, SORRY, sorry! this took a second longer than originally anticipated, but, here it is, live from italy! enjoy! (tw: we get spicy, and we also cut our finger on a kitchen knife, but it's only minor, and it ultimately gets kissed better, so we're fine) Wordcount: 2.8K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You laid on your side, face pressed firmly into your pillow, and looked at Joe who was doing something on his phone. Answering someone who should’ve gotten a reply hours ago, most likely.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, sheets loosely covering him up to about his waist, and his hair looked insane.

It always did, after.

You loved it like that. Frizzy, wild, completly unruly, every piece curling a different way.

Gorgeous.

Little shit.

Joe must’ve felt how you were looking at him, because you caught him sneaking a little look from the corner of his eye before he pretended he didn’t just make direct eye-contact with you and shifted focus right back to the small screen in his hands.

“I know what you’re doing…”

You saw how a slow smile grew on his face. One that he immediately tried to hide, which was of no use.

“Yea?”

Joe couldn’t lose his grin if he wanted to. Giving you another glance made him lock his phone before putting it down on his beside table.

“Wow. Fourth time.” Joe commented, and he phrased it like he was impressed, but you knew it wasn’t with you.

Joe was impressed with himself.

“You’re sick, you know that? Like an actual sociopath.”

It felt a bit silly how you hadn’t fully realised what was going on until just now. After the fourth time it happened.

Four times.

Joe laughed as he got comfortable in bed, tucking himself in for the good night’s rest his smug little face suggested he thought he really deserved.

“I’m just following instructions.” Joe leant over a little and planted a chaste kiss to your forehead before he turned over. “Night night.”

And you know what… you kind of agreed.

You were sort of impressed with him too, but you would never tell him to his face. Obviously. Although, in a weird twist of the truth, it was actually proving yourself right more than Joe probably thought he was doing.

You’d not been fucking around when you said that sex wasn’t just about the orgasm. And the first time, with hindsight, you kind of couldn’t believe that you hadn’t immediately known.

It was a couple days after you’d had that whole discussion with Izzy present, and Joe had challengingly said he was going to prove you wrong. He’d not said a word about it since, and so you’d forgotten about it.

You’d been play bickering all day - mild bullying that touched lines, but skillfully never crossed them.

You’d caught Joe looking into a mirror for a while, and had just watched him for a little bit before you went, “Just admiring, are we?”

He’d nearly jumped out of his skin. Hadn’t seen you were there.

“You fucking...” Joe said through his teeth before loudly exhaling.

You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you as you said, “Sorry, sorry! I’m clearly interrupting something. I’ll give you and your reflection some privacy.”

“Come here!”

He’d taken three quick steps towards you, but you were faster and scurried away before his extended arms could grab you.

To retaliate, Joe had very innocently asked if you could go grab his charger from his bedroom whilst he was busy cooking dinner, not mentioning that he’d seen a fat spider near it just mere minutes ago.

And who were you to deny him a little help when he was literally making you soup from scratch?

The way you’d shrieked from across his flat had made him smile into a taste-testing spoonfull of cooked veg.

It had gone back and forth like that for a bit, sly comments and inside jokes thrown across the table, silly faces and swearwords that ultimately only fed the joy that sparked.

That was, until you were cleaning up after dinner, filling up and already overfilled dishwasher, when Joe decided it’d be hilarious to jumpscare you.

He snuck up, moved real slow, got real close, and then suddenly grabbed you at the waist whilst you were bent over and gave a loud, “BAH!”

The sound you made as you jumped was immediately followed by a loud wince.

“Oh no,” Joe’s vice grip around your waist lost strength immediately as you curled in on yourself, one hand clasping the other tightly. “Did you cut yourself?”

You kept quiet and focussed on the sharp pain that quickly dulled and replaced itself with a light sting.

You hadn’t cut yourself.

Joe had cut you.

Indirectly.

On his huge chef’s knife that you carefully wanted to give a good spot in between all the dirty pots and pans.

“Let me see. Did you cut yourself?” Joe turned you around by the shoulders, but you fought against it and turned to the sink instead.

Water went from slightly red to a little more orange until it ran clear - the cut was only little, but from the way you’d fallen silent, Joe struggled with immediate onset guilt whilst deeply wishing to keep the mood light and playful like it had been all day.

He wished you’d turn and call him a dickhead.

He wished you’d turn and punch him in the bicep.

“Is it bad? Come on, let me see.” Joe tried again, softer and sweeter now, trying to look over your shoulder.

You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you just stared at each other. Joe sort of awkward and entirely unsure of what to do. You sort of blankly, figuring out your next steps.

Which was, be careful what you wish for Joe, an unexpected punch to the bicep.

“What the fuck, Joe – did I cut myself?”

The happy relief Joe felt at your small smile underneath the scolding saved the moment.

“You did that! Did this! Look at it!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry! But, who the fuck holds a knife by the blade?”

“I was trying to make it fit in there!”

“And you had to hold it by the blade for that?” Joe’s smile grew, and you used your shoulder to shove him in response, eyes crinkling from your smile, but gaze back on your finger.

“Can you grab me the scissors?” you asked, reaching for a drawer filled with a lot of clutter, among which you knew there were some plasters.

“Yea, of course,” Joe got you his pair of kitchen scissors, but before handing them over, he forced eye-contact and turned serious for moment as he said, “That was my fault. Sorry. Does it hurt?”

And it only did a little.

You were fine.

Joe helped wrap your finger up with a plaster and the rest of your evening had passed fairly uneventful.

Joe’s little accident had ended the streak of teasing you had going, and instead, he’d turned a little soft. By ways of apologising, you were sure.

And then that mood carried over into his bed, where you sat on the edge of the foot of Joe’s bed after you got into your pyjamas, whilst Joe climbed into his side of the bed. You inspected the plaster around your finger, squeezed and pressed over the cut to feel the slight sting there still. Joe’s foot that nudged your bum interrupted you.

You looked over your shoulder and saw how Joe leant an elbow into your pillow, head leant back against the headboard with a slow smile and eyes that twinkled with just enough cheek to let you know he wasn’t all that tired yet.

“Stings.” You said as let yourself fall back just enough to get your legs up on the bed before crawling across.

“Maybe don’t touch it.” Joe said, using a hand to push down covers for you.

“Maybe don’t scare someone when they’re doing you a favour.”

You were about to get under the covers, but then, Joe changed his mind.

“Okay, fine. Come here.” Joe sat up more, spread his legs, and used both his hands to pull you into the spot in between.

“Careful! I am wounded!”

“Yea, yea, yea…” two strong hands started kneading your shoulders even before you’d fully settled with your back against his front. You immediately relaxed and let yourself sag into him, head bumping against his collarbone as you did.

“I did say I was sorry, didn’t I?” Joe said softly, close to your ear.

“Hmm.. if I say you did, will you keep going?”

Joe huffed a small laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder before whispering, “Sorry again.” into your skin.

And this was the type of shit that you lived for.

Tender touches that were just firm enough to make you feel something, alternated with feather light touches from finger tips that trailed down your arms slowly before they found their way back to your shoulders again.

Across your back.

To your neck.

Up into your hair, a little.

Gave you goosbumps.

Shivers.

Joe’s fingertips dug into flesh, and his mouth would leave gentle kisses right in the spot where your shoulder met the side of your neck.

If there was any stress secretly housing somewhere in your body that you didn’t know about, Joe was finding it. Getting rid of it. Letting it leak right out of you.

You allowed your mind to go absolutely blank.

No thoughts.

Just Joe’s touches.

Pure bliss.

Joe’s fingers roamed all over, then slid into your hair to massage at your scalp and you let your eyes flutter closed as your breath hitched.

“Does that feel good?” Joe softly murmured, full attention on the soft noises you were making under his hands.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, but only slightly. Couldn’t muster up more movement.

“Here, wait,” Joe suddenly shifted and pulled you from your daze a little as he sat up more. But then you felt how his hands were trying to find the hem of your top, and you leant forward to help him undress you.

“Sit back,” Joe said after tossing it, and this time, his finger tips rounded out to your front where he let both his hands stroke the soft skin of your chest.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, pulling your shoulders back slightly to push your chest forward, presenting more skin for Joe to touch.

“Yea, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Joe softly commented after you let a shuddery breath escape you, and you could hear Joe’s smile in his voice.

You weren’t ignorant, but you were definitely actively ignoring Joe’s hard length that pressed into your back.

You had felt Joe get hard just after he’d started this.

“Y-yea,” you answered Joe, voice breathy enough to feel Joe twitch. “Feels really good. Never stop, please.”

“Hmm,” Joe hummed, fingers drawing shapes over your collarbones, up the sides of your neck, then down the front over the soft skin of your chest. Joe felt how your skin started feeling hotter to the touch. Heard how your breathing hitched at every inhale.

“Want to know what else feels good?”

Before you could even properly answer his question, he was already moving. Moving from behind you, hands that held you by the shoulders and moved you aside to he could slip out of bed.

“Wha– I said, never stop.”

But then Joe got his hands on your knees and placed himself in between on his stomach as he spread your legs, and he raised a stupid eyebrow before mouthing at your inner thigh.

And, yea. All right.

This view wasn’t all that bad.

Joe looked up at you as he let his mouth climb up your leg, and you could feel your chest bloom.

Joe was so pretty.

You loved his nose. Loved his eyelashes. Loved his stupid freckles and his stupid lines across his forehead.

“Come up here,” you surprised yourself.

“What?” Joe already had a finger hooked in your underwear, but paused and raised his head a little.

“I want you up here.”

Your lips were jealous of your legs; wanted Joe’s mouth for themselves. Wanted Joe’s weight on top of you. Wanted Joe inside.

“But…” you saw how Joe’s eyes flicked down before they looked up and made eye-contact with you again. “What about what I want?”

Your underwear got slid to the side, and Joe let his brow frown a little as you made a little noise of impatience.

“Do you need reminding of how we got here?”

And, Jesus, okay. Fine.

You knew Joe enjoyed getting his mouth on you, but it was somehow also always a surprise that sometimes he seemed to like it more than anything else.

Your underwear got removed, and Joe coaxed you to lay back.

“Get comfy. I’m going to be here a while.”

Had anybody else said that, it would’ve passed for a corny joke. But Joe said it, and he was serious.

Joe got his mouth on you and from every single move he made, he let you know he wasn’t in a hurry. He let his tongue swirl slowly, would suckle and lick and nose at your velvety-soft skin until you were floating.

Joe knew how to make you feel good.

He’d learnt very quickly how to make you feel good.

Took him one week, actually, to be precise.

And who were you to complain about something so lovely? About having a boyfriend that you had low-key bullied all day who desperately wanted to eat you out still? You could be kind. Be polite and let him have what he wanted.

But Joe was working himself up.

Was aching in his boxers.

Kept trying to find pressure by pushing his hips into his mattress. Knew his precum was likely leaving a wet patch on his sheets.

But Joe liked what he was doing too much to do anything about what was stirring in his underwear.

And he kept you on the edge.

Just far enough away from an orgasm, but close enough to feel that it was there.

Lingering.

Somewhere off in the distance.

Felt good.

You could live here forever.

And you felt like you did, a little. Because Joe was leisurely taking his time, absolutely in no rush of moving on from what he was doing. Joe went on until his own sounds became more pornographic than whatever you were letting slip past your lips. You then suddenly felt him wiggle, and looked down to see him struggle out of his own underwear urgently without letting his tongue lose contact with you.

“Joe,” you moaned, and you meant, hurry up.

With a final strong flick of his tongue, Joe sat up onto his knees and towered over you a second as he pulled himself free from his boxers.

“Oh, my God.”

Joe was leaking precum, more than what you’d expected. You wanted to tell him how you liked that. How that was stupidly hot of him.

How dare he get so turned on by eating you out?

But you didn’t get the chance to say anything, because quickly Joe let his mouth find yours, and you finally got what you’d asked for.

Joe’s kisses were feverish, almost desperate. He let himself slip inside of you, both ways, his tongue doing the most to find yours and his hipbones pushing forward until they pressed you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna come,” you’d never heard his voice sound so constricted as his hips bucked, refusing to let up.

It had literally been just a few seconds.

Like he couldn’t fucking help himself.

Like he got so worked up eating you out that there was no way back now.

And you fucking loved it.

A man who couldn’t control himself, turning himself on past the point of no return by trying to make you feel good?

What a fucking dream.

And he wasn’t joking, either.

Joe pressed his forehead against your cheek, his heavy breath warm on your neck, and then his panting turned into groans.

With shuddering movements and loud grunts, Joe orgasmed, pressing you into the mattress with so much strength, you thought he’d never quite been deeper inside of you.

After a few seconds, he stilled, and went lax. Let every single muscle relax as he caught his breath, and Jesus fucking Christ, you loved it so much. Heavy weight on top, blissed out boy. Bare back right there for you to drag finger nails across. Short curls, wet behind his ears, right there for you to play with.

After a while, you felt how soft wet kisses got pressed into your neck, and you smiled at how adored you felt.

Going to sleep after that, being held in his sheets, arms and legs tangled, faces close, feeling loved and lovely and so, so sleepy, you almost didn’t register Joe finding your finger, the one with the plaster, and bringing it over to his mouth to give it the smallest little peck.

This was the type of shit being together with Joe was all about.

Everything felt safe, and sweet, and sort of glorious as you slowly drifted off.

That was the first time.

The first time of the four of you not realising.

You hadn’t even cared, or had even noticed for that matter, that you hadn’t orgasmed.

Didn’t cross you mind once.

The sex had been good. You had really enjoyed yourself.

So, see?

Joe was wrong.

And he’d just given you the best example that proved you right.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Loved from afar

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @fuckyeahphelpstwins-blog

Request: “Stalker Fred Weasley”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm sorry that I've been gone for so long. Life problems. I was going to do Kinktober but eventually forgot about it when this lovely request popped up (I haven't checked Tumblr in a while so I'm sorry if it was requested a month or so ago). I feel like I rambled a lot during the first few paragraphs, but I needed to give Fred a real pervy vibe. I was planning on getting it written by Halloween, but I had a crazy week of clowns and witches.

T/W: Stalking (Duh), Fred being a real obsessive and possessive creep, mentions of roofieing (kinda), Stealing, Underwear sniffing,

Fred and George were a team. They had been pulling pranks and getting into trouble together since they were in nappies. Molly even sent them to the naughty corner together (which might not have been one of her best ideas, since they always seemed to fill the house with giggles and whispers). That’s why George was more than worried when Fred started to pull away. When they had a prank planned, Fred would always excuse himself and run off.

Now George might not have been the most attentive student, but he did notice that Fred only excused himself when you were around. The problem was, you didn't seem to notice. If you and Fred had been a thing, maybe you’d have been more talkative when George said hello in the hallway and maybe Fred would have told him about you. But that's just the thing, you and Fred weren't a thing.

That very thought is what kept Fred up most nights. He’d wished upon stars, four leaf clovers, made love potion after love potion to slip into your drink at dinner, but nothing. He knows the love potions didn’t work because he made them himself, but it's not like he could ask Hermione or Harry to make him one. Asking comes with an explanation.

Fred just couldn't give up. Every little glance filled him with hope. That one time when you were both paired together for a potions project, he kept palming himself under the desk. He’d lean in and catch a whiff of your shampoo, making some excuse about how the fumes made him a little dizzy. He couldn't believe his luck when you just looked the other way. He had never cum in his boxers before, but he didn't change them. In his eyes, it was proof that you had an effect on him. Like a badge of honour.

You didn’t think much of Fred’s behaviour. Being dizzy in potions class is understandable. The way he seemed transfixed when talking to you, maybe he was just a great listener. Those little things that went missing, normal forgetfulness.

Fred would never openly admit to stealing. But the things of yours that he took, he wasn't stealing. You were his girl, he was just borrowing your things. The way a girl would borrow ‘steal’ her boyfriend's Quidditch jersey (he had tried on multiple occasions to offer it to you to wear). He kept that drawer in his bedroom enchanted for a reason. Inside were pens, a scrunchie, a piece of crumpled paper with some scribbles on, and a few strands of hair tied together with an elastic band. But the piece de resistance was a pair of white underwear. Your underwear. Fred couldn't believe how insanely lucky he was when he snuck them out of your room while you were at Hogsmeade. He treated them with such care. He caressed and petted the fabric, even holding them to his nose like it was the sweetest smelling orchid. He had thought about wrapping them around his cock, but the thought of defiling such a sacred piece of fabric made him shiver.

One of his best ideas was when he put the underwear on a pillow. He buried his face into the soft fabric while his hips rutted against the other end. He didn't care about ruining his pillowcase. These were given to every other student who got a letter. But the underwear? Your underwear? They stayed either tucked in the drawer, splayed across his face, or kept in his pocket during class.

Freds next target was a pair of underwear that hadn’t been in the drawer. He wanted to get a fresh pair. He searched your room, careful to keep everything in its original place. Your room was like a palace, an undiscovered temple just for his eyes. Every one of your possessions was a gem, your hastily made bed was a pedestal where a sleeping princess could wait for her prince. He was your prince, and his kiss would open your eyes just like a princess. He really couldn't help himself as he laid on your bed, burrowing his face as deep into the fabric of your pillowcase as he could. Suffocation be damned, he would die a happy man.

He made sure to take things that he knew you wouldn't miss. The clump of hair from your hairbrush, your pillowcase (which he swapped with a fresh one from the bottom drawer), and lastly a pair of your underwear which he found tucked in the small hamper by the door. The holy grail. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

The scent was unlike anything he's ever smelt. Such a sweet smell. Better than your perfume or the scent of your shampoo. This was all you. He let out a groan at the smell, his eyes rolling back at how heavenly a simple bit of fabric could smell, all because it belonged to you. The lace seemed softer, the scent purer than your other natural scents. How a single smell could paralyse him for a whole minute, he would never know.

But his trance would soon end when he heard footsteps outside. He had never moved so quickly, not to hide from you. But underneath your bed acted as his secret sanctuary within the confines of your room, one where he could stay safe and still be as close to you as he liked (although in your bed with you was a dream he longed for). He peeked out from underneath the edge of the duvet to see your shoes, carrying you across the room to carry out your after class routine. His eyes stayed glued to your legs, the most he could see without revealing himself. But his breath hitched when your skirt dropped to the floor, followed by your shirt. Your shoes were kicked off in the corner and your bra came off after.

He nearly had a heart attack. If he peeked now, he’d see heaven. It was worth the risk of being caught. His hands slowly pushed the duvet up, his head peeking out. There you stood in just your underwear and grey knee socks. Your breasts free for his eyes to see, and only his eyes. He was so entranced by the very sight of your naked flesh that he almost missed his cue to duck back under the bed. He held his breath, making sure he was in the clear before letting himself reminisce about what he had just witnessed.

The rustle of fabric and the bed springs squeaking above him were a sure sign that he was in the clear. You were so tired, poor baby. Don’t worry, just rest. It’ll be okay..

Fred’s watching over you

[danikamariewrites]

Pranks

Rhysand x reader

A/n: I was thinking about how Rhys would react to everyone telling him he has gray hair and knew I had to write it

Warnings: none

You had vowed to get Rhys back for his latest prank. He wouldn’t know where or when, but you knew it had to be something that would slowly drive him insane.

The male thought it would just hilarious to enchant your favorite pen to write curse words. When you went to write a letter to your mother you were very confused by the greeting ‘hello bitch’. Rhys laughed as you attempted your third letter before he told you what he had done.

Now it was your turn. You got the rest of the family in on it to. Cassian seemed most excited to tell Rhys he has gray hair.

Sitting down for breakfast Rhys kissed you on the cheek and took his seat. You smiled at him, waiting for your prank to begin.

Feyre and Elain walked in first. Followed by Az and Nesta. Then finally Cassian. He sauntered into the dining room with a shit eating smirk plastered on his lips.

He stopped next to Rhys, bending down dramatically and squinting at Rhys’s hair. “Brother, is that a gray hair I see?”

“What?!” Rhys jumped from his seat rushing to the mirror in the hall. You all hid your laughter behind your hands. You had to bite your lip to keep it together.

“Cassian. Where is the gray hair!” “It’s right there, you can’t see it?” “Pull it out!” “Ok.” Cassian said far too enthusiastically.

Rhys screamed. “What the fuck! Why did you pull so hard!”

-

Next up was Elain. Rhys had wandered out to the garden to ask Elain what flowers to pick for you. Kneeling next to him gave Elain the perfect opportunity.

She turned to look at Rhys, making a small face and letting out a small oh. Rhys whipped his head toward her. “What is it Elain?”

“Nothing,” she said sweetly shaking her head. “It’s just, you have a small gray hair on the back of your head.” Rhys’s eyes went wide. “Another one?”

She nodded, pulling her lips in a tight line. It was to keep her from laughing but Rhys saw it as her feeling sorry for him.

“I’ll get it later.” He says in a defeated tone.

-

Before bed you found Rhys in the bathroom frowning at the mirror as he ran his hands through his hair.

“What are you doing Rhys?” You say with a slight smirk. You regret the playful tone when he looks at you with sad eyes. “Everyone told me they saw gray hairs on me today and it’s driving me crazy. Also Nesta took far too much pleasure in telling me.”

You give him a faux pout, moving to hug him. Rhys lets out a sigh looking back at the mirror. “It just makes me feel old. And I hate it.” You lean away from him, cupping his face in your hands. You feel guilty for your little prank now. If you had known Rhys would be this upset by the end of the day you would’ve done something else.

“Rhys, I’m sorry it was just a prank. I got everyone in on it because I wanted to get back at you for the pen thing.” Rhys let out a relieved breath, his forehead falling against yours. “Thank the Mother. I was worried.” You let out a hum, “You’re young Rhy. You have another three thousand years before you start graying.”

He let out a scoff. “Even when I am three thousand I’ll still have this thick, full perfect head of hair.” You both laugh and pull him closer. “Such a humble high lord.”

[prazinos]

Hello!

Can I request Ajax with female siren reader. Like she has crush on him and he kinda see her in her like.. mermaid form and everything else is up to you (romantic nsfw)

This was actually really cute and I hope you think so too anon!

Scales

Summary: After hearing a rumour that Ajax had a crush on you, you needed to clear your head. Thank god you weren’t the only one out after curfew.

WARNINGS ! ~ Minors DNI | Smut | Fingering {F} | Palming {M} | Public sex | PiV | Fluff

Ajax had been mentioned in your secret journal at least one hundred times according to Enid. But she was dramatic so, who cares what she thinks?

You care. You care what she thinks. In this exact moment because you quite literally cannot believe what she’s telling you.

Enid practically ran to your dorm. She had heard a rumour that Ajax, THE AJAX has a crush on you, YOU.

That’s how you got here, freaking out, not knowing if it was just a rumour or not, although it was probably a rumour with your luck.

Enid left your dorm after a needed freak out and you had decided to go down to the lake so you could relax in the water.

Although you weren’t like other sirens, with your Y/E/C eyes and dark green tail, the sirens treated you like you weren’t different, and you appreciated that.

As you stepped into the water and felt your legs begin to turn into your tail you dove into the water. Allowing your thoughts to drift away as you felt home in the water.

After a while you decided that it was getting late and you didn’t need another detention for staying out after curfew. You knew Bianca would cover for you but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

As you pushed yourself onto the deck and started to dry your tail (legs?) you heard footsteps approaching you, you turned around to see the same snake headed boy you were desperately crushing on.

He waves a bit awkwardly and sat next to you, dangling his legs about the water.

You noticed that he kept glancing at your tail as you dried it. Mind you, you’ve had tons of children try and touch your tail before their parents pull them away telling them not to talk to freaks like you.

‘Touch it if you want, I don’t care’ you said patting your leg dry.

He hesitated before poking your tail. You give him a look before he places his hand on it. Feeling the scales. You smiled internally at his face. He looked like a kid in a candy shop.

‘It’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful’ he mumbles. You blush what feels like an insane amount, he thinks you’re beautiful. He thinks your tail is beautiful.

You brushed his hand off patting dry the final stubborn patch of scales.

Stretching your legs out you pick up your lotion, you hate how dry your legs get after they transform back to, well, legs.

You start to rub the lotion up and down your left leg as for some reason it’s always the most dry.

‘So why exactly are you out here?’ You ask not taking your eyes off your legs.

‘I was hoping we could talk’

‘About?’

‘You’ve probably heard the rumours I suppose?’

‘About you being madly in love with me? Ajax how could I not’

He laughs looking down at his hands, picking at the nails.

‘They aren’t rumours you know’

You look up at him to see him blushing. Your eyes widen as you realise he’s not bullshitting you.

‘What’

‘I wanted to tell you and then somebody overheard me and Wednesday talking about you and started telling people’ Ajax said looking down at his hands once more

‘Oh’

‘Just oh?’

‘Well, I just don’t know how to react, I mean of course I’ve had a crush on you for like ages but I didn’t think you actually liked me back’

‘Can I-um, can I kiss you?’ Ajax asked not taking his eyes off his hands.

You reach out to his jaw moving his head so he faces you, you lean in, still not kissing him yet Incase he changed his mind. He fills the gap and you don’t think you’ve ever felt softer lips.

You move your body facing him properly and he moves his hands from his lap to come around your waist, he lifts you up (were all stoners secretly strong?) and places you in his lap, lips never breaking contact. Your hands wrap around his neck and deepen the kiss.

You honestly wish you had hair to pull on but, you can’t really pull on snakes without them biting you, huh.

The jacket he was wearing would fill your desire to pull on something. As you pull him down backwards (slowly) so you were lying down, you could feel his cock harden in his jeans. You removed one of your hands from his jacket and moved it down and palmed his cock through his pants.

He let out a moan at the contact, you broke the kiss looking at him, his eyes were hooded, desperately trying to keep eye contact with you.

You continued to palm him through his pants as he let out whimpers and moans.

‘Please Y/N, please stop im gonna cum’ he whispered.

You stopped and when you did, he must have gained some confidence as he leaned down and started to bite your neck before soothing it with his tongue. You knew he was going to leave marks but you could care less.

He pulled down your shorts and underwear, dragging a finger up the slick of your cunt.

‘Shit you’re so wet Y/N’ he mumbled before inserting a finger into your wet hole. He thrust it in and out before curling it to hit the spongey spot inside you.

Your back arched, pressing your boobs into his chest as he inserted a second finger.

‘Ajax, I need, I need your cock’ you mutter as you kissed his neck.

‘I don’t um, I don’t have a condom’ he said looking away from you.

‘I’m fine with it if you are’ you say, immediately he unzips his jeans and pushes them down just enough to reveal his cock. You were taken back by the size.

You’ve had sex with other guys before, only normies, and they were okay, mainly just taking what they wanted leaving you to finish yourself off.

And they all had average cocks ranging from 5-6 inches but Ajax was at least 7 inches, he was thick too. God you knew it would hurt but in the most delicious way possible.

You were right, it did hurt as he pushed the blunt tip into you, it felt like he was splitting you open, when he was in all the way he waited for your permission to move, rubbing your clit in hopes to relax you.

When you nodded, he pulled out nearly all of his cock before slamming it back inside you.

You couldn’t believe the places he was reaching. He kept pounding into you as you moaned

‘Shit Y/N you feel so good, fuck’

You couldn’t help but moan as he started to kiss your neck again while pounding into you.

You reached down to rub your clit but he slapped it away replacing your fingers with his own. Rubbing feverish, tight circles attempting to get you to your release.

Your back arched as he hit somewhere inside you that you didn’t even know existed. You let out a wanton moan and he groaned into your neck.

‘Ajax, Ajax I’m gonna cum’ you panted.

He somehow started fucking you even faster, desperate to have you reach your release.

‘Me too, fuck you’re so tight’ he whimpered into your ear. That threw you over the edge as your back arched once more.

You felt him release inside you not long after, his hips bucking into you his cum coating your inner walls.

He groaned into your neck as he pulled out. He moved from above you pulling his boxers and jeans up before pulling yours over your hips. He helped you stand up wrapping an arm around your waist.

Your legs felt like they would give out as they shook.

‘Holy shit i must be alright at fucking you if your legs are shaking’

‘Ajax, shut up’

He smiled as he helped you walk back to your dorm. Thankfully nobody was around to see you post sex.

You opened your dorm room giving Ajax one last peck.

‘Can I take you out to Jericho on the weekend? We could go to the um to the coffee shop’ he smiled nervously.

‘I’d really like that’ you responded just as nervously before Ajax smiled and turned to walk away. You closed the door and fist pumped a little.

You turned around to see Bianca looking at you expectedly. Shit.

A/N I feel like this was a bit shorter than my previous smuts so I apologise ! But I am working on more requests !

Please let me know if you enjoyed this by, Liking, Reblogging, or Commenting !

Thanks my loves <3

[marcsburnerphone]

PLAY DIRTY

(Captain John price x fem! Reader) 

Summary: based on this request 

Warnings: angst, John is a bit harsh, they have sex what can I say? Nova is readers callsign, reader definitley has father issues but it's okay me too, I'm not sure what else let me know if there’s anything more.

4,315 words later

———————

“So how’d you sweet talk me into your task, what did you say?” You questioned gaz as you both walked down the hallway. The 141 was no joke and insanely challenging to get into for the few who did.

“Didn't take much honestly you have awards and medals for your service that can get you at an even higher rank.” He replies honestly. 

“Don’t compliment me.” You laughed and nudged his shoulder as you both turned into the common room. And that’s when your eyes caught sight of him, a 6 foot something hunk of fine.

“Who’s that?” You whisper into your friend's ear pointing with your eyes.

“No way.” He laughs as his eyes follow yours to the one and only captain.

“What?” You questioned.

“That’s captain price, your new captain.” He smiles looking down at you and the way your eyes widen. 

“Why did I think he was older and not as handsome.” Your mind blown he was the captain and you were meant to work for him now. He’s your superior. 

“Because you’ve seen him in the only photo there is of him around and it was ages ago.” Gaz answers.

“Holy shit how are you not fucking your captain.” You say as you move closer to him clearly in view as you both head to approach him. 

“Maybe because he’s a man and my captain.” It was an obvious answer. 

“Makes sense.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Captain, this is your new recruit.” You stood proudly next to gaz and stuck your right hand out.

“Nice to meet you captain.” You smiled slyly, giving him your most precious eyes.

“Yeah you too, soldier.” He shook your warm hand firmly giving you a quick glance up and down. 

That’s how it all started, the flirting and your comments that would make his eyebrows raise at your bluntness, the ones that would make him tell himself he’s too old for you, that he’d corrupt your beauty, that he was a man with too much experience in every way. Nothing about his denial towards you ever put you off though it only made you want him more. 

———-

“Hey handsome.” You quip to the much older man as you head into the kitchen on base to make yourself a cup of tea. 

“Hello soldier.” He replies in a very monotone voice.

“Come on, give me more captain.” You kinda joke.

“Soldiers should be in training.” He sighs out turning towards you and leaning his lower back on the counter watching as you lean your head on your hand and give him a sweet smile.

“I was actually just on my way too that.” You laugh nervously and leave feeling accomplished now that you’ve gotten your daily dose of flirting with the man in. 

———

“Him right there.” You say trying not to fully look at him even though ghost and soap are full on staring at the guy even after you said to not be obvious.

“He has a micro penis?” Soap says seeming a little shocked cause he’s not looking at a scrawny soldier no, he’s looking at someone who’s built and tall with facial hair and tattoos, literally the picture of masculinity.

“Guys yes like he’s medically been diagnosed with that condition.” Simon lets a small sigh out which means he’s amused. 

“That’s definitely um something Nova.” Ghost replies as he sips through the straw he’s carefully weaved under his mask.

“Right.” You’ve grown more than comfortable with these men and had no problem on your behalf talking about your sex life,  and anyways they seemed entertained by it.

———

“Wow captain looking awfully good in that uniform.” You smile up at him with your hand above your eyebrow blocking the sun from your gaze.

“Okay you’ve done your diligence now please get back to work.” He has come to the realization that you're not going to relent anytime soon.

You practically skip away after that and join the soldiers in flipping tires through the dirt. 

“She’s beautiful price, why don’t you ever flirt back?” Soap questions the captain bewildered about the opportunity he’s missing out on. 

“Cause she’s much younger than me Johnny I ought to be old enough to be her father.” The captains’ eyes remain on you only a second longer before he walks away.

———

“No new hookups lately nova?” Soap asks as you all sit in the helicopter on your way back from a successful mission.

“No actually.” They all looked slightly stunned, you’ve given them so many stories about the same guys usually  but sometimes different soldiers in the last 8 months but now when the topic came up you were quiet.

“Is there a boyfriend or something?” Gaz question being closest to you he usually knew there was this one guy at least that was let’s say friends with benefits.

“No, I just haven’t been into anyone like that.” You shrug smiling at the look on their faces. 

“Well okay then I guess I’ll tell you about this lady I was with a few nights ago.” Soap goes on to tell the most in depth story of his most recent lay that left you all wanting to jump out of the moving vehicle mid air.

Your cut of sexual interaction didn’t go missed by the captains’ ears also, he wondered what it’d be like to have you as his, sweet yet sexy you. He didn’t let his imagination last too long though before he reminded himself of the hefty age difference between the two of you. 

————-

“Hey guys, hey captain.” You approach the group that’s sitting in the corner of the room giving price those eyes, the ones that say enough without saying anything at all.

What you mistakenly didn’t notice was the general who was sitting in the seat with its back facing you. You cringed inside at the possible lecture you’d be getting later. Regardless it was too late to leave now and forced yourself to sit next to soap.

“Hello general.” You smile politely.

“Well hello Ms.Nova.” He replies giving you the same smile.

Maybe you’d get out of this but you don’t miss the way the generals eyes bounce between you and price or the way prices jaw ticks when he notices it too.

———

When the general leaves you are about to get up and leave till the captain begins to speak.

“Sit down nova.” You squeeze your eyes shut and retake your seat glancing to the nervous eyes of your friend across from you.

“What for?” You say hoping the more oblivious you ask the softer the blow is.

“I’ll make this clear once and once only, I don’t want to be with you, I have no desire towards you and never will. That small comment could’ve put my career in jeopardy. This ends now. Do you understand me, soldier? I am your captain and that is all.” He says with a hint of disgust, you nod your head at his deep merciless tone that made the others in the room turn their heads. 

“Goodnight team.” You leave without another word and in smaller words fucking book it to your room.

Yeah sure you’ve been shot twice, maybe cut a couple of times. You’ve even been beaten bloody by enemies but this hurt was stemming from inside. It was bleeding into your veins and to your eyes that fell out in the form of salty water. 

————

The next day it was obvious you cried, the puffiness under your eyes wasn’t going to relent even with an unbelievably priced eye cream.

So you steer clear of your buddies and go to do dirty work and clean out oil tanks from the military machinery with a team much lower rank than yours.

Later as the day time bled into the night you were starving, you did not miss the work it took to get you where you currently are. But you didn’t want to have dinner with the team so you took a protein bar from the vending machine and settled into your room for the night. 

“You think she’ll show?” Ghost questioned gaz. 

“No he was harsh, she's been into him since she’s seen him.” He cuts the conversation short when the captain sits down in his usual chair next to the couch the boys sat on.

“Anyone seen Nova today?” Soap asks not noticing price sitting in this big chair of betrayal, the same one that got you in trouble.

“Nope.” Gaz awkwardly answered.

 —————

A mission was coming up and there was no way in hell you could miss briefing, you hadn’t really spoken with the boys in a couple of weeks and haven’t sat with them in about a month. 

But it didn’t go unnoticed by anyone that you started talking to a new recruit who was admittedly very handsome. Giving him your million dollar eyes and that soft laugh that price had grown accustomed to only being used on him. Now it was making him grit his teeth hearing you display it for someone else. 

“Hey you.” Soap slides up next to you as you make a cup of tea.

“Hi soap.” You answer shortly but sweetly.

“So what have you been up to, we haven’t talked much and everyone has got boring lives.” You laugh at him and sigh as you stir your sugar in. 

“I've been helping another task with training.” He Hums at your reply.

“Is that where that man is from?” You laugh at his nosy self.

“Yes, if you must know that Is where he’s from.” He looks offended when you say this and it scares you that you’ve ruined yet another thing.

“Of course I must know your my best pal.” You breathe out in relief and sip from your cup. 

“I’ll give you the details once we finish this briefing.” You wink at him and he fist pumps himself with a satisfied “yes”. 

—————

You haven’t seen him in awhile and that isn’t normal especially cause he’s your captain but not once has he questioned your whereabouts. 

You’re all sitting around a table in the usual briefing room, a heavy awkward silence fills the room once he walks inside with those Manila folders. 

“Hello everyone, nice to see you again, soldier.” You give him a small emotionless nod and avert your eyes to the boot that knocked yours under the table. 

You always knew ghost had a little soft spot for you and this was his way of comforting you. 

This felt like the longest fucking briefing of your life. He went on and on and on. For the first time since you’ve met him you wanted to tell him to stop talking. 

“Nova are you paying attention?” Price questions you in a similar tone he used to lecture you.

“Yes.” You say obviously, and it lacks flavor. It lacks that seductive tone and those big doe eyes you give him. 

“Nova you have to understand that just because I set things correctly between us doesn’t mean you have to be this way.” He argues suddenly.

“You're my captain, no more no less you will be treated as such is that understood sir.” You look directly into his deep colored eyes. 

“Watch your tone soldier.” You let out a laugh, not of humor but of disbelief and just shake your head in silence.

“Price we need to finish the um briefing before there’s no more dinner left in the hall.” Ghost interjects what was the start of an argument and steers the conversation back to strictly work.

It ends finally the meeting is called to a finish and once again you're the first one up and out. Soap catches up with you and doesn’t let you forget you owe him details and gaz follows shortly after. It’s ghost that stays behind with price for a moment.

“Why is she being that way?” Price asks ghost as he collects the left behind papers from the table.

“Did you think she’d be the same after you talked to her in the way you did?” It’s an honest question as he looks at the captain.

“All I did was ask her to stop with the comments.” He shrugs as if it was no big deal, as if it was a simple and kindly delivered request.

“No you put a very strong boundary down and now you don’t like it, nova isn’t just our team mate she's our friend and a hell of a good one. You asked her to just be your soldier and rejected her in a cruel way.” Ghost was nothing but respectful to his superior but wasn’t scared to tell the gods' honest truth.

“Hm.” Is all the captain said before shoving the files into a cabinet and walking out.

———-

Himself and Simon met you and the rest of the group down in the dining hall where the three of you had already begun eating.

“So we’re talking and he’s like there’s a bit of green in your eyes, and I’m thrown off guard cause there is but I hadn’t even noticed he was looking me in my-.” You quiet down when the captain takes his seat at the table and shovel some food into your mouth. 

Gaz goes to tell you food can wait till later until he feels the weight that slides in next to him. 

“I’ve changed the schedule, since the mission is up and coming we’re going to do some group training tomorrow.” You roll your eyes to yourself which doesn’t go unnoticed by just about everyone.

“Is there a problem?” He asks you curiously.

“Did I say something?” You look up to your teammates for an answer than to him.

“Soldier, if you don’t like my rules and my ways of being then by all means throw in a form of withdrawal and you will be sent back to your old task.” You take a deep breath and all the boys are begging silently you’ll back down even though they knew if it had been them in your situation they’d throw it all to hell.

“Okay, where can I find a form of withdrawal?” He didn’t expect that one bit, his thoughts stutter as he examines your features for an ounce of bluffing but he comes up empty.

“Let’s settle down.” Soap says completely unwilling to lose you to the grumps’ shitty behavior.

“You know what captain down worry about it I’ll go ask my last superior for one.” You slam your tray on the table when you get up and leave.

“If you liked her you should’ve just told her, hell price she tried with you and it’s only you to blame for how she’s treating you don’t make us all lose her just because you did.” Soap stands up next to leave and decides he will finish this meal in your room with you.

———

“Here you go captain, it’s signed and completely filled out.” You say handing him the fucking god forsaken form he stupidly brought up. 

“No.” He pushes it out of his sight and away. 

“Excuse me?” You're confused, who just says no like that.

“You will stick with this task soldier. We won't let these petty feelings get in the way of the bond you’ve built with my team.” Price demands as he continues to sign documents not sparing you a look.

“No I want out, it's not up to you.” You argue shoving it down onto his desk. 

“Like hell it’s not nova!” He raises abruptly from his chair slamming his hands on the table like a madman. 

“You don’t know what you want captain and I will not be made confused by someone whose job is to make things fucking clear.” Emotion laces your voice and the thought out plan you had before coming in here falls to pieces.

“I want you for Christs sake, is that clear enough now.” He’s too loud for the things he’s saying and you go to shut his office door. 

“What changed hmm all of a sudden you want me after you basically called me unattractive.” You get louder pointing a finger into his chest.

“I never called you-.” 

“Like hell you didn’t, you said you weren’t attracted to me and never would be. What changed?” 

He couldn’t take it,  the spot you stood centimeters away and almost half a foot below him those eyes that were awaiting him for an answer. Before you could process it he  leaned down and smashed his lips into yours letting his rough and calloused finger lift your chin up.

“No.” You push him off of you trying to keep the wall you built up and he backs up like he’s committed a crime. Then you grab him by the gear buckled to his chest and bring him down for another kiss.

He brings his hands beneath your bum and to the back of your thighs to hoist you up around his waist. Your teeth clash and the kiss is hungry. Your soft whimpers seep into his mouth making his pants grow tighter by the second. 

He lays you down on his desk, clearing it of papers by simply wiping an arm over it letting them fall to the floor. His mouth falls to your neck as he explores trying to find what spot makes me squirm. 

“Captain, someone can walk in.” You try to say breathlessly and he rips himself from you and in the quickest second he’s locking the door. 

“Now they can’t.” He says before he’s on you again standing between your legs, dragging your shirt off as if it’s his enemy while he presses his needy bulge into you

He places kisses all over you for all the unspoken words he wanted to say. His hands are working the button of the cargos that always look way too good on you in a dying need to get them off. He swears he unlaced your boots so fast that the pads of his fingers have fabric burn. It’s too much all at once, you're such a sight and he needs to breathe and think but there doesn’t seem to be time for that with the way his body responds to you. 

“Darling, I need just a small taste, is that okay.” It’s more of a forewarning cause before you respond he’s on his knees kissing up your soft legs and pulling your panties down.

He’s never been so hungry, he’s never felt so starved from something in his life. For a man who can get anything he pleases you’re the one thing he swore he wouldn’t let himself have. 

But now the way you're arching into the heat of his mouth with his head between your thighs unashamedly devouring you with lewd noises and grunts he can’t contain, it's hard to believe he’s ever restricted himself of such pleasure.

“Princess, tell me what you want?” He says as your slick is still on his mouth and mustache and goodness is it a sight to see. 

“I’ve been telling you for months it’d be cruel to make me ask again.” You say breathlessly as your first orgasm settles through your body. 

He kisses up your navel and to your swollen mouth leaving the remnants of his effect on you on your lips.

“Please captain.” You’ve never felt so needy. 

“Shhh don’t worry darling it’s yours.” Another day at another time he’d let you beg pretty for him but not now. 

He works himself out of his cargo pants, letting the fabric pool around his ankles. He hasn’t been this hard in years. Never been so utterly turned on and merely desperate for a bit of your attention. He runs his index finger through your folds gathering the slick that basically spills from you to lubricate his cock.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry I ever hurt you.” He admits as he takes in the unbeatable picture of you splayed out for him, cheeks stained a shade of pink and loose hairs framing your perfect face.

“Well isn’t it a good thing you can make it up to me.” He laughs and places a deep kiss to your lips before nudging the tip into you. He’s teasing you, seeing if you’ll push Down or make any movements as it rests where you so desperately want him.

And you do. 

So subtly your hands drag your body a tad but down the desk making him slide a measly 2 inches in out of the seven that are there. You moan sweetly at that, John is a big man and now you know that it’s a universal thing throughout his whole body. 

“Say captain I want to stay in your team and I’ll show this beautiful desperate cunt some mercy.” He says as your eyebrows that were screwed up in pleasure change to ones of a desperate woman.

“Captain, I'll stay in your team gladly forever now please John.” He plunges into you with one swift thrust. You’d almost seen heaven before, more times that you can count but nothing in this moment can compare to the feeling of being absolutely filled by John price. 

His slow and languid thrusts are driving you crazy but by the looks of his face this won’t last long. 

“You’re only driving yourself crazy, captain I’m a patient woman.” He was indeed but he needs to steady himself before this is cut all too short.

He pulls fully out before slamming back into you. Your curves ripple with the movement and he wants to grab every part of you that he can and is disappointed at the fact he was only given two hands to worship such a body.

“My. doll. my. Sweet. Fucking. Girl.” he thrusts with every word. He’s deep. So deep. One of your legs is thrown over his shoulder and the other is held at his waist. Your sweet praises make him feel like a king, a true emperor.

He can feel you approaching another orgasm. The way your hands pull on the gear still attached to his chest pulling him to your lips as you lean up a bit accommodate the left over space. You moan into the kiss and his sweet and steady pace is now nothing short of a masterpiece. He’s got you undone in seconds. Eyes in the back of your head and hands gripping those muscular arms you could just bite. 

“Good, very good.” He follows after, fucking you full of his seed. He can only pray that you’re on the pill. 

He pulls out with a deep gravelly groan and lifts his pants up to buckle ‘em. When he’s done he places a kiss on your ankle grabs a few tissues to clean the mess on your thighs but pushes a finger into your sensitive cunt to stuff his seed back into you and grabs the cargos you came in and shuffles them around your ankles to pull them on. 

“Wait, where are my underwear?” He chuckles deeply as the pink pair you walked in with on are tucked under his vest peeking out slightly. 

“You're a dog, really.” You smile as he brings you up and helps you get your bra and shirt back on. He placed loving kisses on your nose and forehead as an afterglow takes over your features. 

You stand and he hooks his hand beneath your armpits when your knees buckle a bit.

“Don’t let it make you too cocky.” You laugh at the boost that for sure went to his ego and he tilts his head with a smirk.

He lets you go for a second to pick up the papers he dropped and wipes the spot on the desk that your arousal spilled onto with the pair of panties and then retucked them. He whips his around towards you at the sound of his door being unlocked and rushes to relock it.

“Where are you goin?” He questions as you stand there 

hand still hovering over the knob.

“You don’t want me to leave?” The look of shock on your face makes him want to tear through this building and find whatever assholes have let you leave after sex.

“No I don’t want you to fucking leave, you stay inside.” He’s in disbelief as he stares into what has easily become his favorite pair of eyes. 

“Okay I’m sorry.” You feel very vulnerable now under his stare.

“Don’t be.” He says softly as he ushers you to sit on his chair while he finishes picking up the files, quietly cursing himself for being so erratic cause now he’s down on the floor reaching under the cabinet to collect the last of them. 

When he’s done you stand up so he could sit and he does but not without pulling you atop his lap. You sit sideways and rest your head on his shoulder as he rips apart what you originally came in here to turn in and a small smile can’t help but find its way to your sleepy features.

“Sleep my love, I have a long while to go till these are finished.” There was no protest as he leaned back to ensure your comfort. 

To be truthful those files did not get finished cause he spent merely two hours staring at how your quiet snores escaped the smallest gap between your lips. Even when he tried to get them done he simply couldn’t not when you were nuzzling closer to him every time he accidentally removed his hand from your hip nevertheless paperwork could wait. 

His dolls’ comfort came first. 

————-

Not attracted to her my ass📮

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