#if you’d like to use it elsewhere please do

[dollopole]

Let’s take into consideration:

Arthur would rather waste precious time before an important council meeting to run around the entire castle and search for Merlin, who, in his very honest opinion is the worst servant of the entire kingdom or that he had ever known, than to call literally anyone else to help him dress (as if there wouldn’t be anyone ready to assist Arthur, their king, with clothes);

Arthur, and therefore Agravaine (which makes it all the more hilarious) knows every single place where Merlin could be, at that precise moment, or during that day in general; (EDIT: As someone pointed out in the comments, everyone and Agravaine included knows who is the “dollophead”)

The guards nod to Agravaine without asking anything, which only means that it is canon that everyone in Camelot knows Merlin by name; EDIT: It also means that the guards deal with this on a daily basis. They must be tired.

The aforementioned point implies that everyone knows how Merlin looks like, that also means Merlin is known to never leave Arthur’s side, even during council meetings;

Arthur is running around the castle in what today we would call a pyjama, just because Merlin didn’t wake him up with, “Rise and Shine”. And he’s barefoot. That’s right. The king of Camelot, everyone, has just walked barefoot in Merlin’s chambers, in the armoury, where other knights probably are, and in the bloody stables (yes, the ones where the horses and their dungs both are), without boots on, just to look for Merlin;

Arthur is more distressed in this scene than in the one where Morgana declares war in season five. He’s fretting like a mother hen. Not only he is without breath, which means he was just coming back from his checking around, but he is red in the face and almost yelling in desperation. “Does he expect me to dress myself?!” Because apparently, Arthur literally cannot do anything without Merlin by his side. The way he says, “No sign of him” to Agravaine is so endearing, and he shouldn’t be this adorable. Unfair, Arthur. Really unfair.

Arthur just yells, (and distressingly looks around) in hope that Merlin will come back to him, because he always does. *sounds of my heart breaking into millions of pieces*

And last but not least, Arthur shouts, “Last night!”, which means the actual reason he’s going around searching for Merlin, it’s because he’s worried his world will end without his quirky and clumsy servant by his side (and the love of his life). Merlin is currently out on a quest with Gwaine to look for Gaius, since he has been kidnapped, but the problem is that Arthur doesn’t know this. What he knows is that he has fought with Merlin the day before about Gaius in the council chambers, and believes Merlin is gone for good, this time, and solely for the fight they had. Arthur feels more than guilty that he can’t make it up to his best friend, the love of his life (Agravaine helped Morgana kidnap Gaius, and it explains the ending of the scene, where he understands where Merlin is.) Now Arthur is worried that his last words to Merlin were harsh. He had last seen him when he was done with his duties the night before, and then Merlin disappeared.

No wonder they deleted this scene.

[incognit0slut]

Champagne Kisses

A night involving champagne gives you the perfect excuse to end up naked after weeks of harmless flirting. Spencer thinks one night isn’t enough.

category: smut, fluff word count: around 8k content: softdom!spencer, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (but no creampie he’s testing his pull-out game), alcohol consumption, food play (more like drink play), and i wanna say spit kink but they’re using champagne instead so does that count? a/n: merry 2025 please tell me you remember me or else i might actually cry

You’re doing it again.

You’ve been clawing at his face for the past hour, stealing fleeting glances and looking away just as quickly, because every time you do, you find the same thing.

Brown eyes. Chocolate, marbled in hazel with tiny golden speckles. Pinning you in place. Dismantling you layer by layer. And somewhere in the quiet heat behind them, in the barely-there twitch of his jaw, you’re pretty sure he’s already mapping out the fastest way to get you out of your clothes.

It’s nerve-racking. Smart Spencer you can handle, awkward Spencer you can charm. But flirtatious Spencer? Flirtatious Spencer is dangerous.

Even more so when you’re squashed between Penelope and Luke at the overcrowded booth of O'Keefe's, who are mid-argument over something you can’t even muster the energy to care. Not when long legs stretch in front of you, and strips of neon lights slice across the table in a glow that crosses his form, curving around handsome features that make him look far too inviting.

Because that’s what your mind keeps drifting to. Taking him back to your place, where the only thing glowing would be the dim light of your bedroom.

Or maybe the pale light from the hallway.

Perhaps the soft flicker of the lamp in your living room.

Either way, your mind is already drawing images of him doing whatever it is he’s picturing in his own head. The location doesn’t matter.

“Don’t you agree?”

Your gaze fall over him once more before you force yourself to look away, catching Penelope staring at you expectantly. “Agree to what?”

“That margaritas are objectively the most fun drink and clearly better than boring beer.”

This is the argument they’ve been debating for the last five minutes?

Luke scoffs from your left. He doesn’t look angry though, his expression is more amused than irritated, lips formed in a cheeky smirk. “I can tolerate margaritas if we’re on a beach. But beers are solid all year round, pop a cap and you're good to go."

“You’re such a guy."

“I'm telling you, you don't need fancy ingredients or a blender. No little umbrellas."

“Literally proving my point. Beer has no personality.”

“Are you saying I have no personality?”

Bright pink-framed glasses shift as Penelope tips her head. “If the shoe fits.”

You’re at the point where you’re no longer surprised by their arguments. Loud and pointless, is how you'd describe them. You suspect Luke does it to get a reaction, and normally you’d add fuel to the fire, because Penelope is a pretty fire-cracker when her nostrils flare in absolute indignation. But your attention is elsewhere tonight.

Knees brushing yours under the table. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. Deep set of eyes dragging over your face, your neck, the spot between your collarbone and shoulder where the pulse of your heartbeat seems to echo louder each second.

You slide with your back against the chair, thighs clamping shut. 

You feel him imprinted on you, heated gaze traveling beneath your skin. You wonder if he realizes what he’s doing, if he’s even aware of the effect all the time his eyes fall on you. Since the moment he walked in the room, since he took that seat directly across from you, and if you’re being completely honest, that glint in his eyes has been there probably for weeks now. The when of it all is a bit fuzzy.

Tonight feels adamantly different though, and you feel like you might just need a little extra something to quiet the nervous hum beneath your ribs.

But you’re not entirely sure whether it’s nerves or something far more indulgent that has your mind secretly leading you to a very unholy place. A place where you wonder if the rough, scruffy drag of his jaw feels the same below his navel.

You’re a hundred percent certain that it does.

“You know what’s a better drink?” your voice cracks, desperately needing that extra little something. “Champagne.”

Penelope’s head whips toward you. “Champagne? Here?”

You glance around the bar and raise a hand, trying to flag down the bartender.

The wood-paneled walls are covered with vintage beer advertisements, and the sticky floor is dotted with peanut shells from the complimentary bowls on every table. It’s the kind of place where the closest thing to champagne is probably prosecco poured into a plastic flute for a wedding after-party.

“What’s wrong with champagne? It’s a classic drink, great for celebration.” You order a bottle and four tall glasses before fixing her with a look. “It’s the New Year.”

She snorts. “We’re already halfway through January.”

“Penelope, we had to work on Christmas and New Year’s. We finally have this night to breathe, let me have this.”

There’s a beat of silence before she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But it still feels weird drinking champagne in a bar where the most sophisticated cocktail is a rum and coke.”

“Which is exactly why we’re elevating the night,” you reply, watching as the bartender sets the bottle down with (thank god) proper crystal flutes. You pour the first glass, the golden bubbles racing upward like tiny fireworks as you pass it to her.

Luke accepts the next glass without the same hesitation, but when you offer one to Spencer, the curly-haired man shakes his head.

“Right. I forgot you don’t really drink alcohol.”

The faintest smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t have anything against alcohol, just not in large amounts.” His gaze shifts to the bottle on the table. “I also happen not to like champagne.”

Penelope looks mildly offended. “Why not?”

“Because the carbonation overpowers the flavor. It’s hard to enjoy a drink when it’s constantly popping on your tongue.” You stifle a laugh before you can stop yourself. He looks at you. “What?”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” you reply with a grin. “Here, maybe this will change your mind.”

You pour him a glass and nudge it toward him. He simply looks from the glass to you.

“Come on,” you coax. “We’re celebrating the New Year.”

“Seventeen days late."

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"Do not ruin the fun. We’re still celebrating, and you can’t toast with water. That’s practically begging for bad luck.”

He exhales sharply, lips twitching in what might be defeat or mild amusement, before reaching across the table. Everyone raises their glasses. The instant the bubbles hit his tongue, his nose scrunches in subtle distaste, and the sound of your laughter flies through the small space.

“It’s not that bad,” you insist.

“I still don’t understand the appeal.”

Champagne isn’t exactly your first choice either. You’ve always been more of a wine person. A good wine. A rich Burgundy that makes you close your eyes on the first sip to taste the faint of autumn in a glass. But champagne feels right for the occasion.

This taste blooms on your tongue, crisp and bright with hints of green apple and citrus and that faint yeasty richness at back of your throat. They dance across your palate, leaving a lingering sweetness through your veins that doesn’t soothe your nerves so much as ignite something beneath them, something warmer, deeper, curling into your bloodstream.

It makes you very bold.

Bold enough to hold his gaze without flinching. Bold enough to let your tongue flick across your lips. Bold enough to let your foot glide slowly up the length of his long, long leg.

You’ll have him taste his own medicine.

You, too, can play with fire.

“Maybe you’re drinking it wrong,” you hum, feeling him tense for the briefest, tiniest moment before he relaxes. “There’s another way to make champagne better.”

He grips the stem of his glass. “Something tells me you have a suggestion.”

“I do.”

He tilts his head. The din of conversation around you slowly fades into a muffled hum, the clinking of glasses and Penelope’s laughter barely registering as you notice the curve of his smile, the question lingering in his eyes.

Will you show me?

And that’s how you find yourself naked between his thighs two hours later.

It started innocently enough—or at least that’s the lie you fed yourself when you watched Penelope and Luke stumble their way to the dance floor, giggling as they poured yet another round of sparkling wine. But the champagne didn’t keep your attention for long. A few more stolen glances later, you found your hand wrapping around his arm, the other clutching a half-full bottle of champagne like some reckless lifeline.

It is reckless. Even you can’t deny that. You’ve always been cautious when it comes to bringing a man home. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Spencer. Someone who already knows too many pieces of you, someone who doesn’t need to be deciphered or explained.

And maybe that’s why you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging him out of the bar.

The ride in the stuffy cab felt like an eternity and a blink at the same time that the moment your apartment door clicked shut behind you, his mouth was already on yours. You barely had time to process how surprisingly good he tasted before your clothes started to disappear.

It’s a dizzying rush of hands and heat, and you’re now standing over him, knees brushing his as he sinks into your couch.

Yes, your couch. The soft, slate-blue one you’ve spent countless evenings curled up on, legs tucked under a blanket, flipping through books or half-watching shows you never finish. But now it cradles a completely different weight—the heavy heat of him radiating with tension-laced curiosity and a barely contained lust that seems to bleed right into the fabric.

“I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” he mutters dazedly, trailing his lips along your jaw with a hand resting on your naked back.

“I can’t believe you can unhook my bra that fast.”

He catches the sheer black fabric now hanging haphazardly over your lamp where he’d tossed it aside moments ago. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Should I be concerned about how much practice you’ve had?”

“Not really. I’m a fast learner.”

That, you believe. But you’re not entirely sure if it’s his innate skill or the way your body seems to respond to him so effortlessly that leaves your lungs feeling like they’ve forgotten how to work. Breathing is no longer instinctive now. It’s a function you have to remind yourself to do as his tongue dances along the curve of your breast, and by the time he takes the achingly hard tip into his mouth, your chest tightens.

You suck in a desperate need of oxygen while he sucks the last thread of composure from you.

“Sweet.”

“Huh?”

“You—” He pulls back just enough to let his teeth graze the delicate skin before soothing it with a slow drag of his tongue, “taste sweet.”

Your hand slides to the back of his neck with a sigh. “You’re exaggerating.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bodies don’t taste like anything, it’s skin.”

Spencer shakes his head as he cups the weight of your other breast with the same care you’ve come to expect from him. Taut nipple rolls under his thumb. “How do you explain this then?”

You don’t respond. Not with words, anyway. Your body speaks first as you arch into his touch, chasing the warmth of his hands before you can form any thoughts.

“How do you explain,” he continues, his lips trailing down the slope of your stomach, “why I can’t get enough of how sweet you taste?”

Your mind finally catches up, and the words settle over you like honey itself.

“You think so?”

“It’s not a thought, it’s a fact.” He presses a kiss to the soft skin just below your navel. “I don’t know how you can taste better than this.”

Your laugh is breathless, barely steady enough to be called one. “You’re laying it on thick now.”

“I’m just being honest.”

It’s cute how he says it with such conviction, like it’s the simplest truth in the world and not a line that’s turning your legs to liquid. Your knees threaten to buckle as you step away, reaching for the half-empty champagne bottle perched on the coffee table. The glass feels cool against your overheated skin as you twist the cork free.

“What are you doing?”

“Considering your words.” You hold up the bottle, the champagne fizzing invitingly at its neck. “What do you say we make this even sweeter?”

His eyes light up with interest. “Is this where you show me the right way to drink champagne?”

You nod and sink back between his thighs. “I know you’re not big on sharing food, but I think you’re gonna like this.”

“You do realize I’ll share anything with you.”

Your lips curl into a soft smile. You’ve already learned that kissing Spencer feels deliciously messy. It’s sloppy in the way passion tends to be when control is the last thing on either of your minds, with tongues and teeth colliding in an unpolished rhythm that’s as raw as it is consuming. Adding champagne to the equation doesn’t feel like much of a stretch.

You step forward at the same time his hands fall to your hips. “There’s a trick to drinking champagne.”

“I’m listening.”

The bottle’s rim grazes your lips as you take in his appearance. His shirt is wrinkled, hanging just a little more loosely around his chest with two buttons undone. He’s the very definition of disheveled that’s entirely your doing. He looks absolutely irresistible.

“You need to linger on the taste,” you start, your voice dipping into something softer as your eyes meet his again. “Be patient. Let it sit and overwhelm your senses before you swallow.”

“You mean marinate it in my mouth?”

A giggle burst out of you. “Exactly. The longer you let it linger, the more it softens, and the sweeter it gets.”

You tilt the bottle to your lips. The sweetness starts to bloom on your tongue, subtle at first, but then richer, fuller against the roof of your mouth. There's a flicker of recognition in his eyes when you pull him closer by the nape of his neck, the exact moment he realizes what you’re about to do.

Your lips meld seamlessly with his as the Champagne slips from your mouth.

His lashes flutter briefly. There’s a soft flush spreading across his pale cheeks, and you feel the faint hum of pleasure, vibrating against the delicate curve of his skin as a liquid thread drips down your chin.

And then you’re kissing him. Or he’s kissing you. It’s hard to tell who moved first, but it doesn’t matter. His lips part further, and you swear you can taste every nuance of the champagne in a way you've never experienced before. Sharp citrus, a whisper of honeyed sweetness, and beneath it all, something clean and cool that reminds you of first snowfalls.

His lips are swollen and wet and perfectly shiny when you finally pull back.

“What do you think?”

“I think we should drink champagne every day.”

Your hand drifts to the side of his neck with a smile, thumb brushing lightly against his pulse. “Even when we’re working?”

“Especially when we’re working,” he counters, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, tasting what’s left of you. His gaze flickers to the bottle in your hand. “Can I try it?”

You pass it to him, your eyes fixed on the way he tilts it to his mouth. You’re sure the bubbles in your system aren’t the reason your pulse races as he sets the bottle aside and rises to his feet. You’re also sure that no amount of champagne is responsible for the way your lips part eagerly when his hands cradle your cheeks.

There it is again—that sweetness. It hits you the moment his mouth captures yours, but it fully overwhelms you when he tilts his head and gently coaxes the champagne from his lips to yours.

You’re not surprised at how quickly he picks this up. It’s common knowledge that he’s a very diligent person, but it’s still a bit astonishing how he’s taken to playing with a drink he supposedly doesn’t even like. This is nothing like solving cases or flexing his impossibly sharp brain, nor the crosswords you’re used to seeing him hunched over at his desk at lunch.

This requires a different kind of finesse that involves his lips and tongue rather than a pen and paper.

It also seems like he might be enjoying this even more. He leans back just enough to let his tongue sweep across the seam of your lips, collecting the last trace of sweetness clinging to you.

A thumb swipes over the wet trail under chin. “I could get used to this.”

“Champagne or me?”

“Both.”

Satisfied with his answer, your fingers trail down to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. “Do you wanna try something else?”

He quirks an eyebrow as you push down the fabric down his shoulders. You don’t say anything all the while you start to unbuckle his belt, peeling every layer of his clothing until you’ve stripped him completely bare—and would you look at that? The faint trail of hair down his belly matches the scruff shadowing his jaw.

There’s a brief pause as your eyes travel down his body, lingering on his surprisingly impressive size, and a comment sits at the edge of your tongue. You decide to let your actions speak for you.

Your delicate fingers wrap around his delicious thickness. You swipe the first signs of precum glistening over his tip with your thumb, and a low sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

He sounds like he’s in pain, and you shake your head with a playful smile curling at your lips. “Sit back on the couch.”

Spencer sinks into the cushion.

“This might get a little messy.”

His brow furrows slightly, and for a moment, he looks genuinely intrigued. What he doesn’t expect is the way you slowly pour the remaining liquid down your chest. His mouth parts in surprise, and then his gaze follows every single drop like it’s gravity itself pulling him in.

You’re mesmerizing. Always have been, actually. There is no doubt in Spencer’s mind that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met in his life. Your mind is brilliant. Your heart is kind. But watching the champagne mix with the sheen of sweat on your skin, you’re something else entirely. You look lethal. A different kind of captivating.

He’s already pulling you by the waist, and you’re a mass of giggles as you twist out of his grip to set the bottle safely aside. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Can you blame me?”

Honestly, you can’t. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably look at him the same way.

When his hands finally find your hips again, there’s no point in pretending you don’t want to be caught. You bend your knees and shift on the couch. He helps you swing your thigh over his own and deposits you in his lap.

Desperate is a good enough word to depict for him because as soon as you're close enough, he’s tasting you all over again. His tongue drags slow over the curve of your shoulder, across the hollow of your throat, and down to the soft swell of your breasts. Goosebumps ripple across your skin with every pass, every flick of his tongue, his touch leaving a trail of heat that you swear you can feel seeping into your bones.

You don’t even realize when you start to move until you feel the slow, unintentional rock of your hips into him. His cock fits snugly between your folds that you start grinding as the words fall from your lips without much thought, “What do you think of sex without a condom?”

His pupils dilated, lips parting, but no sound comes out right away.

"Spence?"

His gaze flickers to where your wet bodies are pressed together. Damp moisture from his tip smeared erotically between puffy lips, clear liquid coating his hard length.

“I think… it’s very intimate."

“Too intimate?”

"No." His fingers trail along your skin before his thumb settles just under your breast, in the delicate curve where your rib meets, and finally looks at you. "Is that what you want?"

You're bobbing your head up and down.

“Then I'd really, really like that.”

You shift your weight on your knees. “So you trust me?"

"More than anyone."

“I trust you too,” you say, your voice dipping low as your fingers wrap around his cock, guiding him to your entrance. “Can I request something, though?"

"Anything."

You pause just long enough for your words to land. “I don’t want you to come inside me.”

He exhales a soft laugh. “That can be arranged.”

His answer makes your lips twitch, but as you start to sink down, your body seems to have other ideas. There’s a resistance you didn’t expect, a sudden tautness that refuses to give.

Your eyes widen in surprise.

Oh my.

“What’s wrong?”

When you first wrapped your hand around him and took in the full reality of his size, you’d been impressed. Now you wonder if maybe you underestimated just how much he has to offer.

You bite the insides of your cheeks and try again.

“It’s been a while,” you confess quietly. You can’t even recall the last time you were this intimate with someone that the hesitation feels foreign, like a hiccup in a moment you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

And you are eager. Maybe a little too much. It feels almost ironic, considering how much you’ve thought about this, how your imagination has filled in the blanks a hundred times over. Now that it’s real, your body seems to be having second thoughts your mind absolutely isn’t entertaining.

You shift your hips, determination flaring as you take a slow breath. Left, right, up, down. But then a sharp sting shoots through you. Your face quickly twists into a grimace.

"Hey,” he calls gently, thumbs brushing gentle circles against your hip. “We can stop. You don’t have to push yourself.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You want him to push past whatever invisible barrier your body is putting up. The idea of stopping now feels more unbearable than the sting itself.

Your lips press into a stubborn frown. “No,” you say firmly. “We are not stopping.”

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm. I think my body's just being weird. I'm sorry."

His brows knits together almost immediately. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Frustration suddenly wells up in your chest, and this time your teeth sinks into your lip, unsure whether it’s the tension in the muscles between your legs or the ache of wanting him that feels stronger.

And you want him. So fucking bad.

“You need to relax,” he soothes, running his hands up your waist, past your ribs, across your back.

“I am relaxed,” you huff.

“I don’t think you’re relaxed enough.”

Before you can respond, he carefully lifts you from his lap and settles you back onto the couch. The cushions dips under your weight, and you barely have time to process the change before he gracefully drops to the floor.

“Should we move to your bed?”

He grips one of your ankles, his thumb brushing along the soft curve of your bone before he leans down, pressing warm lips to the skin above it.

“After this,” you reply, glancing at the sticky champagne trail still glistening faintly on your skin. “Don’t want my sheets getting sticky.”

There’s a flicker of amusement on his handsome face. “After this?”

“Did you think we’d be stopping after one round?”

His laughter vibrates against your calf. “How many times are we talking then?”

“Until I can’t feel my legs.”

The smile he gives you is slow and warm. It curves one corner of his mouth first, almost shy, before spreading fully, lighting up his face in a way that steals the breath right from your lungs.

“You’d let me have my way with you all night?”

“I’d probably let you have me anytime you want.”

His grin is almost blinding that you can’t help but give him a pleased smile of your own.

“Let’s focus on tonight first.” He moves to your other the leg. Delicate bone and tendon brushes against his lips. “I need to get you ready for me. Would you let me do that?"

Words fail you as his mouth moves closer, and the heat of his breath against your skin makes your entire body tense in anticipation. He presses another open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"You're still tense."

Kiss. Kiss.

“Really need you to relax.”

You try, but then again, it's impossible when his lips are so close, yet still not where you need them the most.

His name slips in a desperate whisper.

"Hm?"

"Stop teasing."

His lips quirk in response, but he doesn't argue.

He dips his head and finally— finally! —drags his tongue along your achingly wet folds. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

"Better?"

The question is entirely rhetorical.

You don’t bother answering. Words seem sparse when his actions are spelling out everything you need to know in bold, underlined strokes. His touch is distinctly different from the playful, champagne-dampened kisses he had gifted your skin.

Now he’s utterly focused. He’s researching, and it appears his diligence isn’t confined to his academic when the same focus he applies to his studies is translated so flawlessly into reading your body like a favorite book. One he’s intent on memorizing every line of, delighting in every pause and whisper between the chapters of your sighs.

It’s this thought that tickles the back of your mind when he slips a finger in. He’s always been about comprehensive understanding, and well, you’re all about empirical evidence. Right now is proof of a hypothesis you’re too pleased to confirm that Spencer Reid might just be a genius in more ways than one.

Especially in how his steady thrust of his finger syncs perfectly with the hot, wet pull of his mouth, scratching such a carnal itch that it resonates deep in your brain. You sigh in pleasure when he adds another finger, and he lifts his head then, lips shiny and pink from his ministration.

"Do you think you can take a third?"

Your heart gives a few extra thuds in your chest cavity. “Please, please.”

Look at you, reducing yourself into begging, but really, how could you resist? Who could withstand the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice dips low like velvet wrapping around your senses?

Your head tips back against the couch, a soft whimper lashing out as he adds that third finger. The stretch is almost overwhelming but oh so good.

"Does it hurt?"

You let out a loud exhale. "No."

"Tell me if it hurts."

"Feels good." Your legs fall apart even further. "Don't stop."

He smiles, and then he's doing things to your body that have you questioning how you're even still breathing. The wet, sticky slosh of your arousal fills the room, a sound so explicit it should mortify you. But then three knuckles press deeper, stroking against that rougher patch of nerves and all rational thought dissolves.

A sound you didn't even know you could make escapes your throat. You're gasping, moaning, a little bit squealing as his free hand slides up your plush thigh before finding your puffy clit. And dear god, you’re choking on the breath that lodges in your throat. You're so close it's almost unbearable. A hand shoots out, and you’re gripping his forearm with a desperation you can't even pretend to hide.

You need him inside you.

“I'm ready," you gasp harshly, your lips parting in quick, desperate puffs. "I'm ready. I’m ready.”

He has the audacity to shake his head.

"I'll decide when you're ready."

Your breath stutters even more.

Why does that sound so hot? Why does that simple, infuriatingly calm statement make your thighs clench, your pulse race, and a fresh wave of heat roll through your body?

Before you know it, he’s coaxing your orgasm from you with just the right pressure, and every movement feels like it’s designed to bring you right to the edge. You’re not surprised by how wet you are, you’ve been dripping for what feels like hours. But what does surprise you is just how much your body can take. The intensity that doesn’t wane, that keeps pushing you higher, drawing out gasp after gasp until hot syrup gushes out of you in long, sticky droplets that pool on his fingers, down to the couch.

It’s endless, relentless, and you can’t even tell where one orgasm ends and the next begins. Your hand claw at his wrist.

“Spencer,” you whine, your voice breaking on the syllables. “Sensitive.”

He stops immediately, his fingers still inside you, his other hand slipping from your clit to rest on your thigh. “Too much?”

“A little,” you smile breathlessly. “C’mere.”

He crawls towards you as you lay on your back, relaxing your thighs.

His eyes trail over you, scanning your sweat-slicked skin, lingering on your perky breasts, moving down to where your legs are fallen apart, waiting for him. The sight is so overwhelmingly enticing that he finds himself wrapping a hand around his cock, muttering a low praise under his breath, “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you are.”

Your eyes flick downward, and a spark of confidence—or maybe pure desperation—pushes your reply out without hesitation.

“Tell me again while you fuck me.”

You’re so blunt and shameless that a part of you might have blushed if you weren’t so far gone. Spencer doesn’t seem fazed, though. If anything, his eyes flash with a knowing sparkle that only deepens as he presses his bulbous head right at the shy of your entrance.

“I think I’m going to enjoy telling you,” he muses.

And Spencer is one to keep his promises.

He thinks you’re devastatingly pretty when he’s sinking into you. There’s a dazed look in your glossy eyes, and the sweetest sound coming from your lips as he stretches you in a way that leaves no part of you untouched.

He sings praises under his breath when the heavy weight of him finally settles deep inside your body. He patiently waits as your walls flutter around him, all the while his lips brushes the delicate curve of your collarbone, between low, broken whispers of how perfect you are.

Although perfection might not even capture the essence of what he sees in you at this moment. You’re a breathtaking array of contradictions. Powerful and vulnerable, fierce yet tender. You’re nothing short of divine as he gives another smooth, long thrust that pulls a sound from your lips that he knows will echo in his mind long after.

The heat of you surrounds him completely, and he swears he feels every pulse of your body welcoming him deeper. You’re slathering his entire cock with your slippery slick, and the dampness imprinting against his pelvis only seems to spur him on. He moves in steady, languid strokes, and your toes curl at the sensation burning in your belly.

He’s hitting you so good your ankles find themselves running down his back.

“Spence,” your voice is raspy and wet. “Fuck me harder.”

His quiet groan harmonizes with the rhythm of your heart. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t—”

You stop, and he looks through the mist of bliss you've shrouded him in. Your face twists, eyes going wide, lips parted to take in sharp breaths. He panics for a moment.

“You’re in pain,” he decides, reading the way your brows knit together, the way your breath stutters in your chest. It seems the most logical conclusion—until he realizes how wrong he is.

Because you’re writhing under his weight when he pushes in deeper, and your mouth trembles, not with discomfort, but with something devastatingly good.

“Oh,” he exhales. His smile is uncharacteristically smug. “It’s not pain, is it?”

You shake your head.

“You want it rough.”

It’s more of a statement than it is a question, but you’re nodding vigorously.

His restraint snaps like a frayed thread.

The next thrust is sharper, it pounds into you with enough force to shift your body slightly back against the cushions. Your lips mouth around another shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

Still. Not. Enough.

“Harder,” you slur against his tongue.

What’s a hot-blooded man to do when asked so sweetly? He answers in the only way he can.

A hand curls around the back of your knee to pull you open just enough for him to drive deeper. The angle makes you feel impossibly full, how the folds of your vulva hugs around his shaft greedily, letting him claim all the space you didn’t even know existed. You can even feel the wet drag of his cock against your swollen clit with each hard thrust, a sensation so piercing it rips a gasp from your throat and a plethora of groans wailing from the couch.

“Like this?”

The relentless thwack-thwack-thwack of skins colliding is making you delirious.

“Yes,” you cry out. “Fuck—Yes. Yes.”

Your vision blurs as you blink, and—god, you think you might actually cry. And honestly, with how full you feel, with how every nerve is sparking to life under his loud rhythm, it wouldn’t even surprise you.

Your lashes feel wet as you squeeze your eyes shut, but you force them back open, unwilling to miss the way he looks above you. Jaw tight, sweat beading at his temples, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists.

Nothing probably does, not when he moves with a rhythm that feels both gentle and crude, like he’s savoring every second so sweetly while simultaneously chasing the most carnal kind of pleasure known to mankind.

Pleasure that has you melting, pleasure that has your body fully acclimating to his size. And now you’re teetering on the edge of another intense orgasm that begins its ascent from the tips of your toes and fingertips, spiraling a tingling rush up through your legs and arms, gathering force at the pit of your stomach, and exploding into the point where you’re intimately connected.

It happens all at once.

You’re trembling.

You’re shattering.

You’re pathetically whining.

Euphoria floods every inch of your body until you’re drowning in it. A liquid fire in your veins. Your cunt clenches around him, so tight you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as keeps pressing you into the couch. Again and again and again, until you’re nothing but an incoherent mess, your words blabbered in a breathless rush of pleasure-induced nonsense.

One heartbeat stretches into two, then the muscles in his arms flexes as his pace falters. He’s shaking now, his pelvis moving in hurried, shallow thrusts as though he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach before the heat of him presses into you one last time.

He abruptly pulls out, his cock visibly pulsing in his hand and strokes himself with a stuttering groan as thick, pearly ropes splutters across your stomach. His fingers dig deeper into the back of your thigh while he continues to paint your skin in messy streaks, and you watch in fascination the moment his head tilts back in pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this beautiful.

His brows pinches in concentration for a few more seconds before his gaze slowly meets yours again, and a faint, blissful pink colors his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, looking a little out of breath. Devastatingly handsome and sweaty. Flustered in the best way.

You brush the damp hair sticking to his skin with a small, satisfied smile. “Are you kidding? That was extremely hot.”

His laughter fills every corner in the room. Then his hand drift down a comforting path down your thigh as he leans to capture the giggle tumbling from your lips with his own. It’s then you realize that kissing Spencer isn’t just enjoyable, it’s downright addictive.

You’re beginning to think he’s just as addicted to you too, because when he pulls away, it’s reluctant, his lips leaving yours with a faint, wet sound that lingers as sweetly as the kiss itself.

“Will you really let me have my way with you all night?” he asks gently, and you can’t help but wonder why he even feels the need to ask.

“Was I not obvious enough?”

You feel his smile before you see it. “Bedroom now?”

To tangle your naked limbs with his again sounds pretty close to heaven. Absolute, indulgent heaven, except for the distinct stickiness of champagne, sweat, and a cocktail of other body fluids clinging to your skin. The thought of sinking into cool clean sheets in this state makes your nose scrunch.

“We need to make a stop to the bathroom first,” you say, running a hand up his arm to squeeze his bicep. “Have you ever tried shower sex?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he admits truthfully.

You make a sound of disapproval.

“We definitely need to change that.”

-

Spencer realizes a lot of things can change in one night.

He also discovers how much he’s capable of learning in such a short period of time. Granted, he’s always been a quick study, but this is different. The hours between midnight and sunrise completely upend his understanding of things he’d only ever read about—sex, intimacy, the intricacies of how touch can feel as much like a language as words.

But beyond the newfound knowledge (and let’s face it, an entirely new appreciation for his muscles), there’s something else. Something that surprises him even more.

He likes waking up with another warm body beside him. More than likes it. There’s a strange kind of peace in the way your leg drapes over his, your hair a tousled mess against the pillow. Peace that makes him wonder if this, too, is something he could get used to.

Even if you’re hogging the blanket. He can feel the cool air on his back while you’re wrapped in most of the covers, leaving him to soak up whatever body heat he can steal by staying pressed against you. Not that he’s complaining. He’d happily stay like this for hours, but the sun is already creeping higher through your window, and your phone has been vibrating nonstop ever since he opened his eyes.

The sheets rustle as he shifts closer, mouth puffing warmly on your cheek with a breath of your name folding into your skin. You blink through heavy eyelids, and Spencer thinks you look adorable all wrapped up like a cocoon in the tangled linens.

“Hey," you croak, then clear your throat. “Morning.”

The soft rasp of your voice is even as endearing as the sight of you.

“I think we’ve already passed morning,” he says, slipping a hand under the covers, finding the goosebumps prickling on your upper arm.

“We slept in?”

“My guess is it’s almost noon.” There’s another buzz vibrating from the bedside table that stops him from pressing you against his chest. “Someone keeps calling you.”

He wonders if you can sense the slight annoyance in his voice. He wonders if he even has the right to be annoyed. It's Saturday. You clearly have plans—or at least someone thinks you do based on how persistent they've been.

If you catch the flicker of irritation in his voice, you don’t acknowledge it. You stretch lazily for your phone instead, and his attention is momentarily snagged by the way the sheet slips down your shoulder, revealing the constellation of freckles and moles he’s spent the entire night memorizing with his lips.

"Nobody’s calling.” Your thumb scrolls through the notifications. "Penelope just doesn't understand the concept of personal space when she texts."

Spencer feels the tightness in his shoulders ease, though he doesn't miss the way your eyes narrow into sleepy slits at the screen.

"Oh."

That one syllable is enough to set his mind buzzing.

"What?"

"Um."

It’s the subtle crack in your voice that hooks him. He’s never been good at sitting with unanswered questions, especially not when your expression shifts just enough to make him wonder what could possibly warrant that little noise.

He finally curls an arm around your waist, and the faint trace of your scent fills his lungs as he gently draws you back against his chest. A relentless stream of messages glares up at him over your shoulder.

Penelope [Sent 23:37]: Where are you?? Penelope [Sent 23:45]: Is reid with you? Penelope [Sent 00:05]: Did you leave? WITH HIM?? Penelope [Sent 00:17]: You did, didn't you? Penelope [Sent 00:33]: You can’t just vanish like this, you know I have questions!!!

Spencer barely registers the way his hand drifts down to rest against your stomach. He pulls you in unconsciously as his eyes scan over the flood of texts that started piling up this morning.

Penelope [Sent 09:19]: Good morning. Penelope [Sent 09:25]: Answer me. Penelope [Sent 10:24]: Seriously, are you alive? Penelope [Sent 10:39]: YOU OWE ME DETAILS. Penelope [Sent 10:48]: Last chance. Calling you in ten.

"I think she's onto us."

It’s not so much a matter of thought as it is a fact. Your words are less a theory and more a confirmation of reality, as undeniable as the relentless stream of texts lighting up your phone.

"What should I tell her?"

Spencer leans in closer. The soft scent of your shampoo drifts up, clean and faintly sweet, wrapping itself around him in a way that makes his chest ache, though he’s not sure why. He’s inhaling everything—your warmth, the curve of your shoulder brushing his chest, the way your voice carries an edge of hesitation that feels so out of place for someone like you.

And that’s what truly catches him off guard. Not the fact that Penelope is practically banging on a metaphorical door with her texts, but that you’re hesitating. You, who rarely second-guess yourself, now unsure about sharing the details of last night with one of closest people in your life.

Or maybe the surprise lies closer to home. How easily the words form in his own mind, bypassing the overthinking that usually rules him.

He has ten minutes to think before Penelope supposedly calls, but he doesn’t need ten minutes, or even ten seconds, because the answer is already there, so obvious it practically tumbles out of him.

"The truth," he hums against the crown of your hair. "You should tell her the truth."

You’re quiet for a while.

“Are you sure?"

For someone who invited him into your home, who let him press you into the couch cushions, spread you out on the cool tiles of the bathroom, and pull every sound he wanted from you on the soft give of your mattress—on your back, your front, even sideways—you seem awfully uncertain now. Very out of character.

So what’s changed this morning? Is it the stale morning breath he’s sure he hasn’t fixed yet? The mess of his curls sticking up in every direction from a night spent pressed into your pillows?

Or is it something much deeper that he hasn’t quite put his finger on?

The thought clings to him as his thumb brushes your stomach. "I’m sure," he says. "Are you?"

You hesitate for a beat too long, and that tiny pause lands heavy on his chest.

"This is going to change everything," you finally say, sounding somewhat like a warning.

He frowns. "Didn’t you want it to?"

"I did. I do." You pull in a breath that shakes on the way out. "Maybe we should discuss this before we say anything to anyone."

Your phone slips quietly onto the bed as you twist in his arms. Face to face.

"Do you like me?"

What kind of question is that?

"Did I seem not to like you last night?"

"No, Spencer, I need to hear it. Do you like me?"

He studies the delicate fold between your brows. He watches the quiver on your parted lips. And your eyes—watery and glossy and wide. Soft lashes framing the quiet expanse of irises that shimmer like glass.

He knows what you need. Spencer has spent most of his entire life reading people, pulling truths out of their silences and decoding what they can’t (or won’t) say. And even though he hates applying that skill to you, he knows this isn’t just about reassurance. You’re not only questioning what happened between you last night. You’re questioning what comes next.

The time glares from your phone over your shoulder: six minutes. That’s all he has to convince you that his feelings go far beyond fleeting lust or the heady haze of alcohol. Six minutes before Penelope inevitably interrupts.

But he’s not the greatest with words, is he?

Sure, he’s read more books than most people will touch in a lifetime. He can recite Edgar Allan Poe by heart and dissect layers of meaning in Dostoevsky’s prose like it’s second nature. But his own feelings don’t come wrapped in poetic declarations. That’s not who he is.

What he can do, though, is tell you the truth.

“You know how you told me I could have you anytime I want?”

A strand of hair brushes against your cheek as you nod.

“You’ve already had me from the very beginning.”

Your gaze softens, then you sigh sweetly, and he knows without a doubt that the truth is exactly what you need. “Before all the sex?”

“Before we even kissed.”

The distance between you slowly becomes nonexistent. You slot your knee between his thighs, a lick of smile curling at the corner of your lips.

“So… when I ran my foot up your leg?”

His lopsided smile is no different from yours. “No.”

“Last week when I wore your cardigan because the AC got too cold?”

“You looked really pretty in it, but no.”

“Last month?”

“Even before that.”

You click your tongue. “Give me a clue. A hint.”

But you don’t need clues. Clues are for puzzles, for cases that demand solving. This has never been a mystery. He’s known it for longer than he cares to admit, and he wonders if you’re asking because you genuinely don’t see it or because you just want to hear him say it.

Either way, he’ll happily say the truth as plainly as it exists in his mind.

“From the moment you joined the team.” You pause for just a heartbeat, and he reaches out to brush away the stray of hair slipping down into your eyes. “You probably didn't notice, but I couldn't stop staring at you.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse softly.

“I’m a terrible liar.”

He watches as you mull over his words. He knows you’re trying to decide whether to believe him, though he doesn’t think it’s really a question of if. You already know he’s telling the truth.

Your voice is awfully quiet that he has to perk his ears for it.

“What took you so long then?”

Because while he’s a terrible liar, he’s always been painfully good at keeping his heart to himself. Years of compartmentalizing, of burying emotions under layers of logic and detachment, have made it almost second nature. And maybe that’s why it took him so long.

That, and bad timing.

Countless abductions.

A never-ending chase after unsubs.

Death of a team mate.

And prison.

God, prison.

He wonders if these are valid reasons or just excuses. Had there ever been a perfect moment? Or had he let his fears and the chaotic nature of his job push his personal happiness to the sidelines too often?

The words knot in his throat, and in the end, all he can muster is an apology.

“I’m sorry.”

For waiting so long.

For not saying this sooner.

For only finding the courage to make a move under the guise of flirtation and champagne.

He’s selfish. He is. Because he's reaching for you based on his time, his terms, waiting until he was ready to fit you neatly into his schedule. But you simply shake your head. Because that's what you are, isn't it?

You’re selfless, and so profoundly lovely that you offered yourself to him last night without reservation. And now you’re even more radiant, wrapped in the soft light of vulnerability, tinged with doubt, yet always so giving. Pulling him closer to your chest with a hand on his back. Fingers splay across his skin, nails dragging idly along his spine.

“Don’t be,” you reply, feeling his body expand and deflate under your palm when he breathes. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

See? Selfless. The least he can do now is give you back the words you need to hear, the assurance you deserve to hear. Your foreheads press together, and he reverently lays his hand on your cheek, spreading lean fingers into your hair.

“If you must know, I do like you.”

But the word feels so inadequate for what he’s finally trying to tell you. Like doesn't even scratch the surface of how much space you take up in his mind.

"I more than like you,” he decides to add.

It doesn’t take long before you kiss him. Soft petals bloom warmly against his mouth, puffing humid breath he tastes on his tongue. A blissful moan he swallows greedily, lets it settle deep in his chest, his bones, his veins, filling every corner of him with the sweetest weight of you.

A flutter of lashes skims against his cheekbone when you tilt your head, pulling back by the barest inch. “You’ve made a huge mistake, by the way.”

The pad of his fingers presses gently on your scalp. “Why?”

“You’re never getting rid of me now.”

His thumb moves against your hairline as he takes in your words. For a moment, all he can do is absorb them, replay them, savor them. Then his eyes soften, the corners crinkling with genuine delight, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter that melts right into the narrow space between you.

He scoots impossibly closer, hoping your skin will somehow mold with his. Because after all the surprisingly creative positions he discovered with you last night, it’s the only conclusion he can come to: you fit into him. Perfectly. Soft curves finding their place against the lines of his frame, every piece of you adhering like glue to his skin.

Chest to chest, nose to nose, and lips so maddeningly close to yours that he can still taste the warmth of your breath, sweet and intoxicating in its nearness. It’s enough to drive him a little insane, though he’d argue he’s always been slightly off-center where you’re concerned.

His fingers twitch, ready to close that infinitesimal gap when the sharp buzz of your phone suddenly slices through the moment.

Six minutes.

That’s all the time the universe has granted him, and it’s woefully too short.

"Might need to block her number," you mutter under your breath as you shift slightly to reach for your phone. He watches the way your fingers fly over the screen rapidly before placing the device back on the side table.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth." Then you drop on him like a dead weight, limbs tangling in the most inconvenient ways until your head is tucked in the crook of his neck. "Also sent her an eggplant and water emoji.”

A crease forms between his brows. “What does that mean?”

You fail to keep in your laughter. “You don’t want to know.”

He’s fairly certain he does want to know. In fact, he’s starting to realize he wants to know everything about you now that you’ve given him the chance. Beyond the pull of bodies and the way they slot together so seamlessly, beyond the electricity of skin against skin.

Though he can’t deny his curiosity at one precise moment, the way you’d slightly gasped when his fingers accidentally brush around the base of your throat. He wouldn’t mind knowing what that meant for you, and, surprisingly, what that even implied for himself.

But as intriguing as that is, it’s not what lingers the most. It’s the subtleties he wants to unravel, the pieces of you he hadn’t even realized he’d been aching to explore.

Your wit, your thoughts, your mind—that lovely, intricate thing he’s admired for so long. Full of nuances and depths he hadn’t even realized he’d only been skimming the surface of. He’s sure there’s something far greater than even his endless mind could have imagined that ties to the beautiful shape of you.

And you’re so beautiful. He’s known that for years, but mere hours ago, he learned it in an entirely new language. Even when he understands seven different ways the world chooses to communicate and speaks four fluently, yours is his favorite.

Yours doesn’t need words or perfect pronunciation. It’s instinctive and warm, written in every sigh, every glance, every unspoken verse that linger in the subtle shift of your body. In every nuance of your taste.

God, your taste.

He knows you’re right, skin can’t be sweet. The dichotomy isn’t lost in him. Yet it doesn’t matter, because not even the crisp, effervescent bite of champagne compares to the warmth of you. Not even sugar, and he basically lives on sugar. In chocolate-sprinkled donuts that he grabs on the way to work, in the endless cups of coffee that fuel his day.

You’re something else entirely, beyond comprehension.

And if one night was enough to saccharine his senses with you, he can only imagine what forever could do.

[rafesangelita]

♡ in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..

warnings: heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff

a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3

wc: 1.8k

“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.

“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.

“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.

“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?

“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.

you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.

your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.

picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.

“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”

you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.

your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.

as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.

how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.

as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”

“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”

[fixforthesoul]

OPEN LETTER TO FANFICTION WRITERS ON ACCESSIBILITY; PLEASE READ.

first of all, thank you for spending your time, seldom acknowledged and definitely deserving of a compensation you are not receiving, to entertain us. i’m speaking on behalf of more than just blind readers, but everyone. you’re sick as hell.

i’ve summoned you to provide some information you may not already know. i know a lot of you like fonts. especially those who cross post their work on wattpad. i admire any and all acts of aestheticism to a degree, and can understand the desire to use them. (blind folk, sorry y’all. momma’s making a point.) 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰, it’s cute. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is a little cuter to me, if i had to choose. or maybe 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈?

now, sighted folk: if you’re on mobile, i implore you to participate in a little exercise for me. select this text and scroll through all the copy/paste/define/‘search the web’ options until you get to the speak portion. if you need to change a setting for your phone to do so, would you mind? i’d really appreciate it.

please make your phone read aloud part of my post, and be sure to include any bits with those super cute fonts. 𝕚’𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒, 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. 𝕚 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕚 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕠𝕤 𝕚 𝕔𝕒𝕟’𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖.

whether you participated and discovered it for yourself or you thought this was a crock of shit you’d rather not sniff, i’ll tell you! screen readers cannot dictate words using those fonts. at least, on a majority of devices. not mine, or any of my mutuals elsewhere.

you do not have to change your behavior on my behalf, but please be aware that fonts limit access to your work.

blind readers do exist, i exist, and i am bound by the same feelings of dogged longing that make other sad horny bitches read angsty, smutty, father-wounded nonsense.

thanks for making it this far. i really hope my sincerity is being conveyed, reading makes me so happy and i’m not the only person on this app who relies on accessibility settings more often than not. do with this information what you will, and have the day you deserve!

[moonchild9350]

Before You Go

Summary: you’d give or do anything for your boyfriend, especially if he pouts cutely at you.

Pairing: established relationship Han x fab!reader

Genre: smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: teasing, masturbation, handjob, oral sex (m & f receiving), clit play, clit slapping, dirty talk, unprotected sex (don't), squirting, creampie, taking nudes, thick cock Han lol

Notes: Jisung's pouts, that's it that's the post. I'd do anything for him if he pouted at me lol

Divider by: @cafekitsune

If you enjoyed please reblog, comment, or like ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Babe, lemme fuck you.”

These four words stopped you in your tracks, your head snapping to look at your boyfriend sitting on your bed. You eyed him as he lounged on the bed, his hand placed behind his head as he smirked at you.

“What?” You responded you voiced laced with disbelief.

You were packing your suitcase, preparing for a trip with your girls in three days. You would be gone for one week and your boyfriend Jisung had much to say about it. He’s been nagging you nonstop, saying he’ll miss you and what will he do when you’re gone. Every chance he’ll get he attaches himself to you in some way…not that you cared much.

“Lemme fuck you!” He repeated, this time with a little desperation in his voice.

You stared at him, watching as he squeezed his thighs together, his bulge very much present in the gray sweatpants he was wearing.

Taking a deep breath you said in a sing song voice, “No.”

You walked away to gather more clothes as Jisung whined, his bottom lip jutting out like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Well what am I supposed to do about this?” He inquired, gesturing toward the tent in his pants.

“Go jerk off babe…without me,” you added as you noticed his eyes get big and bright as he probably thought of some grand idea to get through this slump.

“You hate me!” Jisung said as you walked out the bedroom, to go grab a snack.

“Whatever you say babe!” you teased as you smirked.

The next two days passed in a similar fashion with Jisung flashing his boba eyes at you and begging for sex, claiming he’s had blue balls for the last two days. You knew the last part to be true, but that just made him more whiny and desperate which you loved.

He tried everything from cooking you a nice dinner to even helping you pack, his little brain thinking you’ll give in and have sex. However, you were steadfast in your task, not budging in your decision.

The afternoon before your departure, you needed to make a quick drugstore run, picking up some last minute supplies. You pressed a chaste kiss to Jisung’s lips, chuckling as he chased after you hoping for more.

“I’ll be back babe!” You said as you shut the door, a little whimper from Jisung reaching your ears last minute. — — Once you were done with your errands, you made your way back to your apartment. You made it in record time, wanting to finish up packing as soon as possible so you could relax.

As you unlocked the door, you heard a low moan, the sound drawn out and laced with frustration. You tossed your keys on the hallway table, kicked off your shoes, and made your way towards the sound.

It seemed to grow louder as you neared your bedroom door. You smirked, knowing exactly what was going on behind the door, the thought causing your pussy to clench.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, your eyes zeroing in on your boyfriend laying spread eagle on the bread. His head was tossed back as he rhythmically stroked his cock, lewd wet sounds echoing in the room from the copious amounts of precum that was leaking from his tip.

“Fuck! Y/n, please!” Jisung whined as he canted his hips upwards as he picked up the pace.

You decided to stop his fun, walking over to the bed and slapping his hand away. He let out a loud groan in frustration, his wet eyes snapping to yours.

“Why’d you do that?” He whimpered, his cock twitching pathetically as it lay against his stomach neglected.

“Awww, are you having trouble babe? Hmm?” You teased, rising your eyebrow at him.

Jisung nodded his head, his lip jutting out as he wiggled on the bed. He was so hard it was almost painful, his length seeming to grow with each passing second.

“Answer me babe,” you cooed, crawling onto the bed as you shucked your top off.

Jisung’s eyes widened at the sight of your tits, the flesh all but spilling from your bra.

“Mmm yes baby, need- need your help…please, please,” he whimpered, his words trailing off to a whisper.

You chuckled as you approached him, licking your lips at the sight of his chubby cock.

“Poor baby,” you hummed, as you wrapped your hand around his length.

Jisung let out a hiss as you slowly stroked his shaft, your wrist circling around the head to gather more of the leaking pre cum. With your other hand, you fondled his balls, squeezing them gently as he thrashed around, high pitched moans leaving his lips.

“Mm close baby,” Jisung panted as he thrusted his hips up into your hand as you matched his pace.

“Already?” You smirked as you squeezed his cock causing him to yelp. “Aren’t you just desperate.”

Jisung whimpered as his breathing increased, his words a jumbled mess as he chased his high. You chuckled before leaning down to take him within your mouth. You bobbed your head once, twice, three times before darting your tongue out to press into his slit.

“I’m…I’m coming!” Jisung wailed as he shot ropes of his cum down your throat.

You suckled the head as he came, moaning around his length at the taste. Once he relaxed, his body going limp, you continued to suckle his cock, teasing his slit again and again until he was whimpering from the overstimulation.

He tugged on your hair, attempting to get you to stop, mumbling that it was too much. You released his cock with a pop and licked your lips, grinning at the man below you.

“Help me out babe,” you said as you popped your bra off and rid yourself of your sweatpants and panties.

You laid down and chuckled as Jisung eagerly laid on his belly, grasping your legs in the process. He spread your legs, moaning as he laid eyes on your wet folds, your arousal glistening in the light of the bedroom.

He leaned forward and licked a stripe up your folds and pressed a kiss to your clit. Jisung repeated the action again and again, grasping your legs tighter as you thrashed around.

“Mmm love your pussy,” he mumbled before sucking your swollen clit between his plush lips.

You moaned as he alternated between licking and sucking, his nose pressed flush against your mound as he ate you out like a man starved. You ran your fingers through his hair, grasping some of the strands as you rocked your hips against his tongue.

Jisung relaxed the muscle so you could get off as you pleased, the vibration from his moans sending little shocks through your core.

You were close as he was at your mercy, your belly tightening with each thrust of your hips.

“So close Sungie, so good, lemme just use you,” you said as you grasped his head harder and pulling him further flush against your pussy.

Jisung wrapped his lips around your clit once more before sucking hard, the sudden switch causing you to tip over the edge, your orgasm racking through your body. You continued to ride his face, coated his nose and chin with your arousal.

Once the last ebs of your high faded away, you released your hold on Jisung and tried to focus on your breathing. Jisung sat up with a huge grin on his face, his chin glistening.

He brought his hand to his hardened cock, stroking the length a few times before pinning your legs down to the bed.

“Can I fuck you?” Jisung asked as he looked down at you desperately, his big boba eyes traveling from your tits down to your pussy and then to your face.

You pretended to think for a moment, your eyes on his face. You thought about saying no once more, but you needed him just as much as he needed you. Your pussy clenched around nothing, your slick continually leaking out and dripping down your ass.

Jisung smirked, his eyes trained on your core. He brought a thumb to your clit and gently circled it, biting his lip as wet sounds echoed in the otherwise quiet room.

“Let me fuck you baby,” Jisung cooed as he continued to tease your bundle of nerves. “Your pussy needs me, listen to it, she’s talking to me.”

You whimpered as a wave of pleasure settled in your pelvis, the need to be filled by his thick cock on the forefront of your mind.

You gripped your thighs and held them open as you looked your lover in the eyes.

“Yes, fuck me Sungie,” you said in a sultry voice.

Jisung smiled and pushed the head of his cock through your folds, the flesh parting at the intrusion. He dragged his length from your clit down until the tip caught your entrance.

With a breath, he pushed in, your little hole stretching as it accommodated his length. You moaned at the pressure, loving how he filled you so good, so perfect.

Jisung thrusted his hips slowly, fucking just the tip within your entrance, mesmerized at how you took him so well.

Your walls were warm and wet, the sound your pussy made driving him insane. He needed to be within you and he needed it now. With a powerful thrust, he sheathed himself fully within you, letting out a loud groan as he settled within your thighs.

“Ahh!” You whined at the sudden intrusion, your eyes rolling back as he begin to pummel into you, his balls slapping your ass with each thrust.

You gripped your thighs, his biceps, the sheets, anything you could get ahold of as he fucked you deep and hard, his cock massaging your walls just right.

Jisung adjusted his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, sending little waves of pleasure through your core.

“Faster Sungie!” You begged as you took him in, watching as he fell apart above you.

His eyes were trained on his cock, watching as your entrance stretched around it, leaving behind your cream assisting with the glide. He let out a groan as you clenched around him, trying to keep him snug within you.

“Look at this mess baby,” he said as he watched your arousal mixed with your cream drip down your ass, coat the little hairs on his pelvis and your folds.

You groaned as his words, clenching your walls again and again as your pleasure built within. Jisung brought his thumb to your clit and flicked it, his cock twitching at how you responded, your body jerking at the shocks of pleasure he was giving you.

“Don’t stop,” you mumbled so close to your high, the warm feeling slowly spreading throughout your lower region.

“Gonna come? Come for me baby, give it to me,” Jisung growled as he slapped your clit.

You yelped at the sensation as he chuckled. Jisung loved your pussy, worshipped it, would do anything to make it cum, cream his length, and milk him for what it’s worth.

“Damn, im gonna miss this pussy,” Jisung whined.

He was close, your pussy too much for his sensitive cock. He thumbed your clit in earnest, needing you to reach your high so he could fill you up.

You began to pant as your pleasure mounted, coming to a crescendo as Jisung continued to fuck you and finger your clit.

With Jisung’s name on your lips, you let go, squirting your release around his cock. You moaned as you listened to the lewd sounds, so wet and filthy as your arousal dripped onto the sheets.

“That was hot, so hot. Gonna cum, gonna…” with a strangled moan Jisung came, filling you up with his cum until it dripped out of your hole mixed with your slick.

Jisung looked down once more before grabbing his phone off the table.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you watched him search through the device.

He didn’t answer but instead you heard a shutter click as he took photo after photo of your pussy, his cock still buried within your warmth.

“Gotta have something to remember you by while you’re gone,” Jisung said as he tossed his phone to the side.

“And you thought to take photos of my pussy,” you chuckled.

“Mmhmm, I love her just as much as I love you baby,” he said as he withdrew his now softened cock.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said as you waited for him to clean you up.

“Maybe, but you love me!” Jisung shouted from the bathroom.

That you did. And how could you not with that adorable cute face and pout of his.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @baby-stay92 @possum-playground

[morbidlcve]

⋆｡°✩ work hours

⋆｡°✩ pairings: construction worker! agatha x reader

⋆｡°✩ word count: 2.7k

⋆｡°✩ summary: you bring agatha her lunch and things escalate.

⋆｡°✩ cw: oral (a receiving), intersex agatha, fingering, chocking, oral fixation (kinda?), degradation, p in v, creampie, agatha being a whiny little shit, soft!dom agatha (if there’s anything else, please lmk!!)

⋆｡°✩ a/n: i’m back 😇

Your girlfriend was at work and you just got out of class and decided it would be nice for you to pay her a visit and bring her lunch since she forgot it this morning. You went to your favourite bagel place and got her favourite sandwich before walking the few blocks to the site where she was working for a new real estate company she had been hired for. You walked through the house foundation estate to the break trailer, where employees go for their breaks and coffee breaks. Knocking on the door, Rio, Agatha’s associate answered, she pointed you to the direction where she last saw her. 

You liked Rio, she seemed nice, you’ve only met her a handful of times, she was quite cold but she was always respectable. Following the directions she gave you, you ended up at the end of the cul-de-sac Agatha and her crew was working on. 

You spot her in an instant, she was hanging from a contraption harness secured to her waist as she used an industrial sized drill, presumably drilling more support beams into the foundation. Yet you could not take your eyes off her. The wife beater she had on along with the oversized construction vest and the construction pants that hugged her waist tight and the harness that showed off the delicious globes of her ass, you couldn't look elsewhere if you tried. The sun was blazing, meaning she was a sweaty mess, wiping her forehead with her forearm, her head tilting back just a little to lift the helmet she had on. 

Your knees went weak as you watched her shout at the men above to bring her back up. Agatha all but demanded respect and you’d be a little liar if you said that watching her boss people around didn't affect you. As she got to the top of the building, you watched her look down and fumble with the hooks from the chair and your mind instantly went to the gutter. From this angle it looked downright sinful. You watched as the men on top of the building watched her nudging each other nodding. You scoffed because if they knew Agatha was aware of what they were doing, they would not be standing there right now. 

“Oi pervs, stop looking at my girlfriend!” you hollered at the men, drawing Agatha’s attention down to you. She smiled at you looking back down to step out of the harness, muttering to the men on the roof before they nodded and scurried away. You didn’t mean to get them fired really, they shouldn’t be looking at what’s yours. 

You watched agatha make her way through the house in the making until she reached you. “Hi sweetheart, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, it's not unwelcome though.” She nods, taking a hold of your hips pulling you closer to her. “Brought your dinner, you forgot yours at home so I got us bagels” you grin into the kiss she presses against your lips, her tongue cheekily brushing against your lips before breaking away. 

Her hand easily finds yours and she leads you through the site to her truck parked right on the outskirts of the town she's working in. She opens up the hatch on the back and you both perch on the back of the truck to eat your dinner. “Look at you being all jealous before” she smirks, nudging you before taking a bite of the bagel, moaning at the taste. Your brain short circuits watching her eat, her eyes fluttering closed, the way her head dips back ever so slightly, relishing in the taste. “Hey, you didn’t want to see the way they were looking at you, besides you’re mine to look at.” you smile, taking her hand, stroking your thumb over it slightly. 

“Oh yeah?” she swallowed, her tongue poking out to wet her lips. 

“Yeah, you look so good at work, watching you with that drill, being all hot from the work” you sigh looking up at her. “Careful sweetheart, some might say it turned you on” she teased, pressing a lingering kiss on your neck. You shuddered, thighs clenching. “Oh,” she chuckles. 

“Did seeing me hard at work get you all worked up?” she mocks you, stroking your cheek affectionately. 

You nod, face flushing a beautiful shade of pink, looking down. “Don’t go shy on me now, not when you just made me fire two of my best employees.” Agatha remarks, jumping down from the tail of the truck to insert herself between your legs. “Made me want you so bad,” you whine gripping her shoulders, pulling her towards you. She cups your face, her eyes locked onto yours, “god, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know that right,” she mutters, nudging her nose against yours, her eyes briefly fluttering shut. “I know, me too.” you whisper back to her, kissing her softly. Her quick intake of breath makes your heart skip a beat. Her hands grip your face harsh, holding onto you for dear life. Your lips worked in tandem, her tongue grazing your bottom lip, opening your mouth, you let her in. 

The kiss turns heated as you both return to the places you’re both oh so familiar with you gasp when you feel her hands slide up your shirt coming to cup your boobs. “Please, I need you so bad, it hurts,” you whimper, hips rolling as she pinches one of your nipples through your bra. “How bad do you want it baby?” 

You groan feeling the press of her between your thighs. “Soso bad, please.” You're a mess, she’s kissing down your neck just below your shirt line as to where she can reach. Her lips feel so good against your skin, they’re always soft and warm, just like her really when you get to know her. 

“Hop down for me love,” she mutters lightly nipping at your ear lobe. You’re quick to head her instruction looking up at her; her once messy hair now even messier, her lips swollen and red and the look on her face would’ve brought you to your knees right on the road of a town you didn’t know. 

Which is precisely what she did. “You know what to do,” she sighed licking into your mouth once more before guiding you to your knees. You nervously looked around just to be absolutely positive. “Don’t worry sweetheart, they’ve closed this road off due to my construction, no one will see you” she soothes, taking your hair into her hand, the light breeze gentle on the back of your neck. 

Your hands make quick work of the pants she had on, heavy with tools but you managed, pulling her underwear down with them. Her cock springs out red and raw, looking rather sore. Wrapping your hand around the tip, Agatha hisses, her head flying back. You smirk a little, triumphant. 

Leaning forward you lick the pre-cum gathered at the top, relishing in the taste of her. Her hand presses against the back of your head prompting you to go further. “Please, I need you” she sighs, pushing your mouth around her. “Fuck, yes.” She sighs. 

Your mouth is full of her, her taste so strong you can feel yourself becoming more heated. You want to please your woman the best you can, so you push yourself down her length as far as your throat would take you before you gag around her. “Shit, do that again baby,” she shuddered pushing you further down. 

Eyes rolling back, your hand works to cup her balls. The right choice you gather with the way her moans dance around in your ears and her hips start to thrust into you with more force. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum” Agatha says, she shrugs off her Hi-Vis jacket, one hand holding the tail of the truck, the other buried in your hair working you up and down her cock. 

You moan around her when you feel the lack of oxygen catching up to you and she loses it. She fills your mouth holding you at the base as she floods your throat. “Such a little cockslut for me aren’t you?” she says at the sight of you on your knees in the middle of a road, in broad daylight, looking more fucked out then ever. 

“Only for you,” you mutter, before sticking your tongue out to show her that you swallowed all of her. She smirks, pulling you back up and pushing you against the truck. The cold of the truck reacting with your nipples, making them stand up. She pulls down the pants you had on and shoves your panties to the side. Her hands make their way around to your face, shoving two fingers into your mouth. “Get them all nice and wet for me baby” Agatha said, her hand coming down to land a slap to your ass. You jolt forward on her fingers in your mouth, gagging once more. “Atta girl.” she smirks, pressing a kiss to your neck. Pulling her fingers out of your mouth she watches as a trail of saliva follows along and she groans. 

You don’t really need to wet her fingers, she knows it too but there’s something about her fingers being in your mouth that you love so you’re certainly not complaining. “You gonna tell me how much you need me baby?” she asks, her now wet fingers teasing your slit. 

You groan trying to push back but to your avail she’s pinned you down. “Aht, ask nicely, use your words,” Agatha smirks, proud of how much of an influence she can truly have on you. 

“Please Agatha, I need you so bad. Need you to fuck me so good, you’re the only one who can, please please please, need you,” you whine pathetically. 

Agatha groans at your proclamation before sliding two fingers right into your pussy. Your back arches, her fingers filling you up deliciously. It still baffles Agatha to this day how you're still so tight for her. No matter how many times she’s fucked you senseless, you’re still so tight the next time around. She thinks it’s more fun for her though, she gets to continually break you open for her. 

“Still so fuckin’ fight for me,” she hisses scissoring her fingers into you. Your mouth hung open, the please seeping into every fibre of your being. Just when she curls her fingers just right you jolt at the stimulation, following on by a chorus of moans. 

“Yeah? That feel good baby?” she prompts, grabbing your hair once again and pulling your head back to lean over and crash her lips down onto yours. Her tongue invades your mouth once again, swallowing your moans tailored just for her. 

“So fucking good please don’t stop,” you cry out trying to buck against her hand. “Nono, you just sit still and let me have my way with you, mkay?” she said, sliding another finger in. Heat rises up your body as you feel your orgasm approach. Nerves standing on end you whimper “Please, i’m gonna cum, please let me cum, i’ve been so good.” 

She has the audacity to scoff. “Good? You got my employers fired.” she says fiercely, removing her fingers. Your euphoric buzz fading back out to see. You whined, “I didn’t mean to Agatha, please, I'm sorry, I'll be better.” Trying to reach behind you and pull her closer to you again, missing the heat of her body against yours. 

What you said, worked. She sighed, kicking your crossed legs apart, catching you when you almost stumbled, and pushes you back against the truck. The cold metal sends a chill down your spine. ”You’re gonna be a good girl for me and take it, aren’t you?” she grits, running her length along your slit. “Yes yes please please, i’ll be so good for you.” you cry out when she pushes into you. The fill deliciously burning within you. “Fuck, so fuckin tight for me,” Agatha groans, pulling out slightly before slamming back into you. 

“Fuck!” you cry when she pushes so deep, nudging the sensitive part within you. She begins to set a brutal pace, her hand comes to cup the back of your neck, holding you down, forcing you to take it. “This was all you wanted huh? Just wanted to be fucked stupid by my cock didn’t you sweetheart?” she mocks, grunting when you tighten around her. “Yes fuck just want you all the time,” whining, you try to pick back, and this time she doesn’t stop you. Groaning at the friction. 

You gasp when she lifts one of your legs to reach a further depth in you. Moaning senselessly when her balls come to tap at your clit through her disgustingly rough pace. Hips smack against yours, completely at her mercy. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hands try to grip anything to keep yourself stable, finding the sides of the truck. “Can feel you squeezing my cock, you feel so good” she pants, fucking into you with a renewed vigour. Her hand reaches down to circle your clit, the stimulation igniting the flame within you. Like adding gasoline onto a flame, it burns so fiercely in you that you start to quiver. Her other hand pulls your neck, lifting you head to look at her. Sweat glistens on her skin, her eyebrows scrunched and her mouth slightly open. Bliss is evident on her face; her pace picks up further “I’m so close sweetheart, come on, cum for me” she moans, pressing her lips to yours. 

Her hips press into yours with every unmerciful thrust, the feeling so intense your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, legs shaking as your orgasm overtakes you, and you. cum around her cock, squeezing so tight she doubles over groaning. “So fucking tight, one more baby, give me one more” she whimpers. 

You could tell she was so close, her breathing became laboured and she was bucking into you relentlessly. Her cock hitting depths of you that had you seeing the cosmos. Her hand worked from the back of your neck to the front, gripping your throat, restricting your airflow. 

Her fingers worked double the efforts to being you over the edge once more, “Come on baby, cum. Gonna fucking fill this pussy so full, you’ll feel it for days.” She grunts, slapping your clit with quite a force. 

You squeal, your legs shaking, you can't feel your hands with how hard you're gripping the sides of the truck. “Need your cum so bad, please Agatha.” You push back, pressing her into you so far she moans right down your ear. Her breath fanning across your face. She presses into you as she cums, spilling into you. Your mouth hangs open, feeling her so deep in you your knees turn weak. She holds you up as your orgasm takes over you, pushing in and out slowly to draw out the sensation. 

Waves wash over you with each roll of her hips causing you to jolt due to the stimulation. “Fuck,” you sighed feeling her gently pulling herself out of you you sulk against the truck. “God you were so good for me.” Agatha sighed, wiping your thighs with her Hi-Vis jacket she bent down to pick up. Once you were clean, she bent back down to pick up your pants, pulled them back up for you. She fixed your hair with the most gentle touches and kissed you softly. “When do you get off work?” you ask her, your hands drifting up and down the length of her back.

“As soon as I saw you, I told Greg and Mark to tell Rio I was going home, and for them to get gone.” she said, smirking at you looking down at your fidgeting fingers. “Don’t worry about them, they’ll find somewhere else.” 

“I wasn’t? You just reminded me about seeing you hard at work, I need to come see you more often, especially if this is the reward.” You giggle waltzing back to the passenger seat. 

She rolls her eyes and puts the truck into gear.

[kamitv]

Yuki has many joys in this world but one of her favorite things to do with you is make out with you while she’s knuckle deep in your cunt. 

Breaking away from your lips only ever to tease you with a slightly hoarse mutter, “Hear how loud my girl is?” She’d giggle while thumbing your clit like it’s second nature and curling two of her lengthy fingers right into that spot she knows you so desperately crave for her to reach. 

You’d let out a moan in response if it weren’t for her lips latching onto yours again and drowning out the sound completely. Her tongue twirls and dances over yours the same way it typically slithers into your cunt. You try your best to keep up with her, whining as your hips jerk against her mean digits that were busy assaulting your sloppy cavern.

You really start losing it when she pulls away from your mouth just to watch your expression twist up into pure bliss. Her fingers are fucking perfect inside you, dragging out something so sweet and delicious from the depths of your drooling pussy and eyeing down the way whines of her name leave your pretty spit-slicked lips.

“Y-Yuki, please,” You gasp and attempt to lift your hips for a moment to breathe only to be tugged right back down by the grip she’s got on you with her free hands.

Yuki pouts just to mock you, “Aw, you close, pretty?” She utters to you with this faux sweetness that makes your stomach twist and churn, thighs trembling over hers. “Gonna cum for me? Make a nasty lil’ mess on my fingers like you always do?” She continues, fingertips rubbing right against that angled spot inside you that has you seeing stars for a moment.

Then you’re left nodding wildly, attempting to duck down and hide your face in her neck only to be stopped by her lifting the hand from your hip and moving it to your throat meticulously. Her thumb forces your chin up a bit so that you can keep looking at her and she smiles.

“Tryin’ to hide your face from me? Seriously?” She gasps in exaggerated surprise, “Y’know this is my favorite part,” Her fingers pick up in pace all of a sudden and you can feel the tips just ramming into you, as if to punish you for your recent attempt. “Jus’ look atcha’, all teary eyed ‘n pouty like you didn’t ask for this…”

Your eyes are quick to dart elsewhere but you feel your orgasm approaching you quickly. “S-Shut up,” You huff, “It’s embarrassing w-when you do that…”

The knowing smile on her face widens and she tips her head to the side, the thumbing at your clit coming to a soft ‘n steady slow. “Do what?” Yuki puffs out in that soft tone again, brown eyes just dilating at the disorientated sight of you, “Watch you when you’re about to cum?” Answering her own question, she leans forward a bit and your hovering over her lap becomes unsteady. “Would you rather I watch her instead?”

You wanted to say no because you know exactly how embarrassing that is but, she’s swiftly removing her hands from you only to lay you back on the mattress. With a heavy huff exiting your throat, you watch with wide glossy eyes as she sits up in front of you. Her hands meet your thighs and you dread what’s about to happen already.

“S’been a while since I’ve seen my girl up close too,” Yuki recalls happily as she parts your legs for herself. “Think she missed me just as much as I missed her?”

You’re too busy covering your face out of some sort of shyness, refusing to answer or look at your eager girlfriend. To which Yuki playfully rolls her eyes and repositions herself down in between your legs.

Her eyes stay up on you and your heavily breathing chest for a moment before she pushes forward and presses a chaste kiss against the soaked slit of your pussy. “Baby,” She hums, using that fake desperate tone of hers just to try and convince you to watch her. “Look at me, will you?”

Even though you know damn well she only wants to tease you, you end up listening anyway as you remove your hands from your face and just barely drag your eyes down to her. God, she’s so sexy in between your legs. Blonde hair strung back in a messy ponytail, brown eyes set dead on you, and pretty pink lips quirked up into that smile you know and love so much.

“There she is,” Yuki coos, tilting her head again just to pout at you, “Was that so hard?”

Your brows twist up and as you go to answer her, she slots her two fingers right back into you slowly with a loud squelch emitting into the room. “No,” You whisper, “But, d-do you have to stare…?”

She scoffs at you. “Oh, that's right, you don’t like it when I look at you.”

“N-No, I just—“

“It’s okay,” Yuki tells you, quickly placing her eyes down onto your cunt. “I’ll jus’ give my second favorite girl some more of my attention.” As soon as she says that, her fingers are dragging out of you and she bites back a satisfied hum at the sight of your slick dripping off of her skin. “Yeahh, you’ve missed all of my attention, haven’t you, pretty?” 

Then, she moves her thumbs just to spread your cunt nice ‘n open for herself to get a beautiful display of your essence dribbling down. This really was another one of her favorite sights, watching that twitch and quiver of your pussy as you grow needy for her to touch you again. 

Yuki’s brows twist up in awe and she tries not to straight up moan at the sight of you. “Such a wet girl,” She whispers one last time before sending a wad of spit to your clit and then watching the way her saliva trickles downward and mixes with all your soaked glory.  

After which she dives right in, locking her lips onto your cunt and darting that lengthy tongue of hers out—sloppily lathering the muscle with your taste and groaning into you the moment she feels your body react and a moan of her name leaves your lips. Yuki could eat you out for hours and never get tired. Which only makes sense of course, you are her favorite meal.

She loves the way you shoot your hands down to her hair and grab ahold of her, pathetically attempting to move or shift her where you want her to go but ultimately failing. Yuki goes wherever she wants to, the area of desire being your clit at the current moment with the way she goes from those lengthy licks to kissing and soft sucking on your slobbering pussy until she reaches it.

Yuki pulls up just barely an inch above your clit and exhales softly, her breath hitting your wet skin and making you twitch as she smiles. “Almost forgot how sweet this pussy is,” She comments gently, slithering her tongue out just to flick around your aching clit in a torturous little circle. “She’s so sensitive too.” Yuki’s tongue flattens and then her lips cup the twitching bud before she sucks, hard.

Your back arches instinctively and you’re left gasping for the air that left your throat. “Fuck, Yuki… mmgh,” You moan into the air, the sound hitting her eardrums and making her smile into you.

Her tongue was nasty against your clit—flicking and twisting all around you in a sloppy manner while she fucked her two fingers back into your needy hole. The squelches and softened gurgles that left your pussy were like music to her ears, enough to make her cunt throb in excitement.

“Hmm?” She hums against you lazily, beginning to curl her fingers back into that spot again. Your legs instinctively move to close around her but the hand she’s got on your thigh keeps you pinned open for her. “Oh don’t tell me you're about to cum already, I just got down here…” She whines, as if she weren’t fingerfucking you for God knows how long before this.

Your hips lift, eager to feel her lips on you again. “Please Yuki?” You beg, staring right down at her with a pout plaster all over your face, “I’ll be so good for it, w-won’t look away from you again, or—mmh… or hide my face, just.. please let me cum.”

She quickly looks up at you. There was no way she was gonna miss that expression of yours. And fuck, she’s so weak for it too. How could she ever say no to you? 

Chuckling cunningly, Yuki sighs and begins to casually pick up that assault on your g-spot with her fingers again. Then she slides her thumb up to simultaneously rub over your clit—the combination enough to drive you to tears. “Fine, fine, anything for you. Go ‘head ‘n give me somethin’ sweet to suck off my fingers, baby. Don’t hold back,” She purrs, her voice enough to coax you right over the edge.

And you do exactly that within seconds, a pitched whine leaving your throat as your orgasm comes washing over you. Your thighs quake a bit and Yuki relishes in every look of bliss that crashes right over your facial features.

As she fucks you through your high, she begins to trail kisses up along your skin until she gets to your neck and then sucks. “Atta’ girl,” She hushes out into you hotly as you gush around her fingers. Then, she slides up a bit and slowly tugs her fingers out of you. After popping her digits into her mouth and moaning at the taste of you on her tongue again, she swallows and moves her lips down to your ear. “Now can you do one more thing f’me?” He requests.

You don’t even need to know what it is to start nodding as your panting comes to a stop. “Y-Yes, of course. What is it?” You ask carefully.

She giggles and kisses the crown of your ear, “Make the same mess around my strap…”

[silverflqmes]

Hai!! I was wondering if you’d be able/want to/feel comfortable with writing a nsfw cloud x reader? Maybe something sweet, like their first time together as a couple. If you don’t like the request is fine ! I hope you’re having a great day :]

໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

notes. hi anon, i have not written nsfw in some centuries so i hope this is decent cuz i definitely lost my touch😭 i wrote the reader as female since that’s what i’m used to writing, given i’m.. well, a girl😵‍💫 hope that’s okay with you</3

genre. nsfw + fluff

tw. virginity loss, hand job, fingering, riding, slight uh pillow princess cloud in the beginning..

disclaimer. uncomfortable with smut or younger than 17? please dni.

cloud strife x fem!reader

it was quarter to midnight and the blond still could not find it in himself to sleep. not that he ever could, anyway.. but since he’d gotten with you, sleep came just a little more easily and the nightmares became less frequent.

tonight, however, was a slightly different case.

“cloud..” you mumbled sleepily, lifting your head from his back when you felt him shift against your hold. “still can’t sleep?”

remembering your presence, he blinked in the darkness, feeling your hand on his stomach, which he gently took ahold of, kissing the back of it. “sorry, having a hard time..” he paused to think of a vague excuse, if only to mask his embarrassment. “getting um, comfortable, right now.. nothing to do with you, though.”

his cheeks were twinged with pink under the sliver of moonlight that spilled into your shared bedroom through the curtains, but thankfully hidden from your stare.

while he had said it was strange for him to be the ‘little spoon’, part of him was grateful that he was now..

a pout came to your lips as you urged him to turn over, but he wouldn’t budge — adamant on not being seen. something was.. off. really off.

“cloud, come on- you can tell me. you know i won’t judge you for whatever reason that’s preventing you from sleeping.” you assured, smoothing the hand he wasn’t holding over his arm, comfortingly.

he shuddered unknowingly at the touch, hyper aware of your proximity to him — the way your body had pressed against his back and your light breathing on his neck now.

the fabric confinements constricted in protest, and he willed himself not to make any noises that gave away his sensitivity. why did it have to hit him tonight so suddenly? was it that lack of battling, with his arch nemesis no longer threatening the planet?

“i-it’s nothing.” he shook his head, attempting to steady his tone, but his facade was faltering. “just.. go back to bed, i should fall asleep in a moment or — a-aah.. aaah.”

panic crossed your features at the noise he made as you let go him within seconds, finally catching a glimpse of his expression to see he was not wincing out of agony.. but of pleasure?

curiously, your eyes slid down to his lower half to find him squeezing his legs together for dear life. oh.

“c-cloud, are you — ”

“yes-! fuck, i am..” he breathed out, turning his head to hide his shame in the pillow, but you turned him back over without harming him, pursing your lips together.

“y’know,” you began, heaving a sigh. “you could’ve just said you were feeling things- it’s a normal thing.. instead you had me thinking you had a bad dream again or something.” you shook your head, relief washing over you despite your scolding.

the former mercenary kept his gaze elsewhere, grumbling quietly under his breath. “it’s not so easy to say ‘i’m horny, do something about it’. feels awkward, okay.”

you found yourself rolling your eyes before you pushed yourself up, lavender colored sheets sliding off your body as you moved to situate yourself between his legs. “i suppose it’s blunt, but i don’t mind it. we’ve been together for over a year now.. and have known each other for several more.” you reminded him tenderly, leaning down to peck his lips softly. “if you needed ever needed to.. indulge.. i’m more than willing to do so, at your consent.”

cloud found himself shuddering at the words that spilled over his rosy appendages, rouge splashing across his his nose and cheeks at your boldness. while you had been confident, in contrast to how he behaved and presented himself.. this was a side he had yet to see from you — and goodness.

“but- it’s late..” he muttered back, aware that you had to wake up early to help tifa out at seventh heaven by daybreak. it was tedious work and he knew you weren’t one for getting up at first light.. cutting into your sleep felt criminal.

however your expression seemed unchanging, having made up your mind already, from what he concluded.

“and?” you pressed, hovering over his face. “i won’t be that long, and besides — we live in a society where coffee exists.” you reminded him, clicking your tongue before placing a hand on his hip. “i’ll be fine.”

his back nearly arched at the light caress, but he forced himself to be completely still, eyeing you with furrowed brows for a moment longer before exhaling. “are you.. sure about this?”

a quiet laugh tumbled past your lips as a knowing smile crossed your lips. “would i be offering to help if i wasn’t?”

it was a fair point, and although cloud wanted to continue denying himself for the sake of you getting rest.. he found himself succumbing to his intrusive thoughts the more he stared up at you.

“i guess not.” the blond concurred after a brief silence on his end, averting his mako tinted hues. “you’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

the eager shake of your head was enough of an answer as he closed his eyes in defeat. “okay, fine.. just take it easy on me, it’s..” he paused, pursing his lips together.

“your first time?” you finished in a hum before letting out a giggle when he didn’t answer. “it’s okay, i thought so.” you assured him, hooking your thumbs onto the waistband of his boxer briefs. “if it gets too much, you can tell me.”

a nod of confirmation was all that was needed for you to fully tug down his undergarments, a hiss leaving your lover’s lips as the frigid air caressed his most intimate part.

gingerly, you wrapped your hands around his shaft, never missing the gasp he failed to suppress as you pumped him slowly.

cloud’s hand flew to cover his mouth, eyes squeezing tighter as wave of ecstasy washed over him — gradually erasing the previous discomfort he’d felt.

in all his years, other than that massage back at the wall market of sector six, he’d never been touched in a way like this. a manner that sent bolts and sparks of pleasure down his spine, electrifying him in every possible way.

but the spiky haired male was too shy to ask for help on the rare occasions that he’d found himself pent up. all that fighting quelled any need for sexual release.. but now, with little to no battles to partake in these days, those late nights he’d spend away on deliveries were often occupied by his hand.

“f-fuck, y/n..!” he breathed out, feeling his legs tremble from the pleasure you had created.

you continued at an even pace, sliding your attention back over to boyfriend’s features when he called your name out. “does it feel good?” the answer was abundantly clear, though you felt the need to ask, anyway. couldn’t hurt to be safe.

he nodded his head rapidly, flushed skin glimmering under the glow of the moon. “ngh- f-faster, a-aaah~ please..” he whispered back pleadingly, tears gathering at the corners of his lashes.

it was truly a sight to behold — a part of cloud no one else had witnessed but you. and you had been the reason for his expressions, the noises he made — his reactions.. all of it was by your work.

wanting him to reach his high, to see the stars you had hoped he would see on your first time together, you quickened your ministrations, rolling your thumb over his tip. it was a little adventurous, but his moans was all the encouragement you needed to continue.

in an attempt to address your own aching heat, you slipped two fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, dragging them over your aching bundle of nerves before sliding them into your entrance.

a prolonged sigh escaped your lips, feeling your walls loosen around your fingers with each thrust while your partner became undone at the mixture of his own euphoria and the mere sight of you.

it made him strangely jealous, as he wanted to be the one to please you.

with a shaky breath, he reached down into the drawer of his nightstand for a familiar packet, carefully tearing it open when your breathing transitioned into panting.

you hadn’t even noticed that the self proclaimed ex-SOLDIER removed your hand from his cock, nor had you caught sight of him sliding a condom over himself.

no, it wasn’t until he grabbed your hips and brought you forward that you’d removed your hands at the brush of his tip against your clit, grasping ahold of his shoulders as a whine left your lips. “h-haahh~ cloud..” you drawled out in a needy beg, arching your back just slightly.

and that was all he needed to take you at last, sheathing himself slowly into your warmth.

he brought you impossibly closer to him at the squeeze of you against him, a staggered pant spilling past his appendages as he buried his face into your neck. “s-shit — was that too much?”

“n-no!” you refuted a little louder than planned, shaking your head. “j-just, one second.. a-and you can move..”

despite his worry, he took your word for it, exhaling lowly as he felt you shift.

with another sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder, allowing yourself to nod. “o-okay, i’m good..”

cloud took it as a sign to continue as he pulled out slowly before plunging back into your core at an equal pace, steadily falling into an appropriate rhythm.

the stars you had thought of before in regards to cloud’s pleasure entered your vision at last when he nailed that special spot of yours.

“a-aahh~! cloud-!”

your whines and cries of his name was fueling enough to continue hitting that same spot, feeling you crash down on him harder.

“almost.. t-there..” he reassured you quietly, and perhaps even himself as well.

the knot coiling in your stomach was on the verge of snapping, one thrust away from unraveling completely.

in light of that, cloud captured your lips in a climatic kiss, swallowing your cries of elation when you met your end at last.

covered in a sheen of sweat, the blond gave you two more thrusts before removing himself from your dipping heat, allowing you to collapse against him.

his breath was far from even, yours no better than his own as he gazed up at the ceiling, eyes half lidded. “we should.. probably clean up..”

a tired laugh escaped you, having put together several other phrases he could have started with.. but then you reminded yourself that this was cloud strife — your very awkward, but adorable boyfriend.

“don’t w-worry,” you assured, sucking in another dose of air. “we will..”

notes. good grief i haven’t written smut in ages, i hope this was decent.. i feel like i’ve lost my touch😔 but wishing you a great day too, anon! along with anyone else reading this filth🫡

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[ellemarianne555]

Munch

Summary: Aegon is obsessed with fucking you. He’s used to getting what he wants and doesn’t understand that you don’t seem to want him. Fluffy smut as always. Childhood friends to mild enemies to lovers.

Author’s note: Again I got so sidetracked with the plot I don’t know if the smut is any good! This is heavily inspired by that one scene in Heartbreak High where Spider says nah I’m good to Missy after eating her out in the car park. I hope you enjoy and as always please leave comments or feedback! Sorry if it’s cringey but I think we all kind of want a hot prince to make us feel a little bit like home.

Content warnings: eating out, coming untouched, dry-humping, shameless flirting, semi-public sex, Aegon being a dick, Aegon having a dick. You being fed up.

Word Count: 2500

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As a prince, with a certain reputation, Aegon II Targaryen knew a lot about sex. He wasn’t weird like his brother, Aemond, who kept a diary of all his conquests with notes on how to best improve his performance. But he did know how to please a woman.

As one of his sister’s lady-in-waiting, you had always been in the periphery since you had left your home and came to court as a young girl. Though you had become even more beautiful as time passed, as the Tyrell’s were renowned to be, there were so many beautiful women at court. And who was Aegon to ever deny himself?

But you did catch his eye one day. He saw you sitting in the gardens, under a shady tree in the heat of summer, making a daisy chain with your nimble and deft fingers. His mind immediately went to how those hands would feel around his cock.

“Why, hello there.” The prince purred. You looked up at him in confusion, he had just blocked your light and seemed to be talking like a character from one of those scandalous and well-thumbed romance novels you hid under your bed.

Aegon leaned against a tree, purposefully flicking a strand of straw like hair from his eyes and smirking in such a way that made it seem like he was doing his best impersonation of a twat. You giggled. You had rarely interacted with Aegon since your childhood together. You used to be close and constant playmates, but propriety had pushed you apart as you became a respected lady and he seemed to become, well, a whore. You had heard he was a dangerous womaniser now, but was this really the man the maids spoke about in reverent tones? This silly boy leaning against a tree and doing his best to cross his arms so that his doublet barely strained against his soft forearms?

You smiled, teasingly. “Can I help you with anything?”

Aegon paused, unsure of how to respond. Surely it was obvious what he wanted? You must have become a very virtuous maiden, he thought, unused to talking to men.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to have a romp under those bushes over there. I’m quite an excellent lover as I am certain you are aware.”

You froze. Had you just been propositioned by the prince? Who wanted you to have a quick tumble in the mud like a pair of rowdy pigs? You had heard he had become arrogant, but this was pushing it.

You curtsied dramatically, your knees hitting the floor as he looked at you, seemingly bemused.

“I’m SO sorry, your grace. But I fear I am need elsewhere. So that would be a no.”

You smiled sweetly and dropped the daisy chain at his feet.

You didn’t bother to look back, but if you had you would have seen a prince rubbing his forehead in confusion with one hand and thumbing the delicate flowers in the other.

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The second time Aegon attempted to impress you while hopefully communicating his desire to lay with you was a few weeks later. Aegon had been unable to get you out of his mind. As a prince, he was thoroughly unused to rejection and even more unused to having to work for what he wanted. He was training with his brother in the courtyard, or rather losing appallingly, when he saw you standing on the stone balcony overlooking the square.

He hadn’t been able to forget your smile, so sweet even when cutting him down to size. The way your eyes sparked as you dropped into that ridiculous curtsy. You reminded him of a time when he was more carefree, before the overwhelming responsibilities had twisted him into a man he barely knew.

Aemond, forever the opportunist, took this moment to swipe dirtily at him with his rapier. Aegon dodged to avoid the blade, but in doing so he failed to notice the butt of the sword smacking into his chest as he fell, face down in the mud.

When he came to, you were there, standing over him. At first he thought this was just another late-night fantasy. But this time you seemed to be laughing hysterically instead of moaning sweet nothings.

“W-what’s going on?” Aegon said as you pressed your hands into your stomach to stop the pain caused from laughing so hard.

“I’m sorry.” You gasped. “It seems you really did want to roll in the mud.”. Aegon grunted in confusion as she held out a hand to help him up. His pride and backside already bruised enough, he gracelessly accepted.

“So… Do you come watch me train often?” He preened, trying to smooth the dirt off his fine clothes.

“Well…no. I was on my way to the Maester’s to find your sister a new magnifying glass so as to examine her insects. But I saw you getting beaten so embarrassingly, I just had to stop.”

He blushed in shame.

“You deserve that you know. I’m not just some number to add to a tally on your bedroom wall. Did it ever occur to you that not everyone wants to sleep with you?”

“Don’t you?” He couldn’t help but try, grinning sheepishly.

You smiled, but it was more condescending this time and you patted his head. Staring at you again in utter confusion, he watched you walk off. The way your hips swung in that dress, the way your hair glinted in the sun, the way that you made him feel so ashamed. But also strangely aroused.

That night in his bath, Aegon attempted to rub you out of his mind while he rubbed furiously at well, his dick. But his release eluded him as he thought of how you teased him again and again. He was so close to the edge but his hand seemed pathetic compared to the soft pout of your lips. Groaning, he sank back down into the water. Now thoroughly cold and miserable.

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The third time Aegon tried to impress you, it was at a tournament held in the honour of his younger brother‘s nameday. The entire royal household was assembled in a grassy meadow as you watched the men assemble their armour to go kill some great goose or moose or something so as to revel in their masculinity.

Bored, you joined Helaena where she sat cross legged on the earth, tracing the wings of an iridescent beetle in her palm. Aegon caught sight of you and waved. He actually waved.

Helaena squinted into the sunlight as she tried to figure out who was flapping their arms so furiously at you.

“Is that my brother?”

“Unfortunately.” You groaned, covering your face in exasperation as he refused to get the message.

“I know you’ve had an affection for him since we were small, you know. It seems he feels the same way.”. Gaping, you looked at your friend. She was extremely observant when it came to her bugs but often neglected to notice the small gestures between people you took for granted.

“Really.”. She said drily. “You are both quite obvious.”

“I know. But he’s just such a twat! I mean all the women, and the drinking and the preening and the posing! It’s so infuriating how he’s always swishing his hair and smiling!”.

“Yes.” Said Helaena bluntly. “You seem utterly uninterested.”

You groaned again as the man in question strode out to where you sat.

“My lady! I shall catch a fine beast in your honour and together we shall feast!” Aegon said with flourish. Without even giving you time to pick your jaw up the floor, he galloped off merrily.

“Well, whatever happens between the two of you, make him work for it.” Said Helaena as she turned back to her little ones, and you again struggled to find any words.

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It was some time later, when you came across Aegon again. It was late in the evening, the hunting party had returned. But the prince had mysteriously not been with them.

You had been walking back to the tent in which you were sleep that night, “tent” being an understatement for the leather hides mounted on poles to cover you and sumptuous furs spread on the floor.

Aegon was sat on a tree stump. Pouting furiously as he kicked the stones under his feet. You approached him from behind, quietly so as to hear what he was grumbling about.

“Just wanted to catch a damn quail or something to impress her, and I couldn’t even shoot a squirrel!” He cursed to himself.

“You know those things really don’t impress me. Neither does inviting me to suck your cock in the gardens or falling on your face so frequently.”

He jumped out of his skin. “M-my lady! I didn’t hear you coming!”

You sat on the stump next to him, looking out at the sky. It was a cloudless night and the stars seemed to wink at you both, little pin pricks of light against the inky oblivion.

“How can I impress you then?” Aegon spoke quietly. “You don’t seem to act like most woman I know.”

“What because I don’t fall to the floor to suck your cock?”

“Well. Yes!”

“Have you ever tried even talking to me before? Just the two of us? About something other than yourself? We used to talk about everything, when we were younger.”

He sat quietly, contemplating your words. What you had said was true. He had acted like rather a prat to be honest. When you’re used to getting everything you want, the world seems a lot harder to understand as people tend to orbit around, instead of directly interact with you. And here you were, colliding with him.

“I’m sorry. I keep trying to be someone else but I’m not sure I know how.”

“You don’t have to be someone else.” You said softly. “I just want you.”

He looked at you, again throughly confused. “Even though I’m an absolute twat?”

“Especially because you’re a twat. And a pig, and a flirt and in insufferable idiot.” And with that you leant in and kissed him.

His eyes bugged open in confusion at the feeling of your lips against his. But you deepened the kiss as he tried to open his mouth.

“Please.” You smiled. “Don’t talk.”

“Now that I can do.” He grinned and returned the kiss as he grasped your waist and pressed his body against yours.

The kiss continued for what felt like an age, but like it could never be enough. His tongue was soft and questioning at first, while yours was passionate and hard. His hands remained frozen at his side as you broke apart and smiled at him. You placed his baking hands on your breasts as you undid your corset and stays.

“I want you to feel me.” He gulped nervously but seemed to find some resolve and went back to kissing and nipping at your breasts intensely. How was it that he had slept with so many women and had no idea what to do around this one. His cock was hard and aching in his trousers, but his mind could not be less focused on his own release.

He slowly sank to his knees in front of the stump, kissing up your calves as he stopped above your knee and looked at you questioningly. You smiled reassuringly and nodded, before he started licking at your inner thigh and you were unable to do anything but moan uncontrollably.

Aegon slowly kissed around the edge of your underwear, mouthing at your soaking core before tearing off the undergarment and tossing it to the soft earth beneath him.

He ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough of how you tasted. Sucking your clit into his mouth he looked up at you as you shook and writhed. You cracked open an eye and looked at him.

“Why did you stop?” You gasped out as your heart hammered in your chest.

“I just wanted to make sure this is what you wanted.”

“Aegon, you idiot. I’ve loved you ever since we were ten years old and you pulled my braids.”

“If I remember correctly, you then pushed me down onto the dirt and then made me eat a mud pie.”

“Well” You said. “I’d be happy to make it up to you.” You reached to unfasten his trousers but he put his hand out and stopped you. His hand squeezed yours as he looked into your eyes. “Let me. I have all I want right here.”.

You nodded as he immediately went back to licking at your core. You gasped as he nipped your clit slightly and then again when he breached your entrance with a gentle but firm finger. The pressure of three fingers inside of you, stroking your walls, combined with his unrelenting attentions on your clit made you cry out as you felt a strange feeling deep inside you.

It felt like a dam breaking after a flood, like everything between you had been washed away as your release trickled out of you and onto his shirt.

Coming out of your high, you realised he was still fully clothed and surely his back hurt from crouching over for so long. You opened your mouth as if to apologise, when suddenly his lips stopped you.

You tasted your cum in his mouth and the sweet bitten-raw lips that you had bruised earlier. Looking into your eyes, he smiled.

“C-can I?” You said and he looked to the ground sheepishly.

“Ah… I’m good. You suddenly noticed the wet spot on his trousers and remembered how he had rocked himself against your leg like a bitch in heat.

You smiled and pulled him into your lap. Kissing him sweetly, you felt something fall out of his pocket and onto the forest floor. In the moonlight you could see it was a dried daisy chain.

“How did I get this lucky? ” You mused and he placed a finger over your mouth; “I want to spend the rest of my life asking you that question myself. If you’ll let me.” He finished nervously and you knew in that moment that you were home. Not at the Red Keep, not in Highgarden but here with your prince wrapped up in your arms.

A/N: part two is up and down below!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love all the things you write for the bat boys! So it just makes me wonder, how would the bat boys react to their partner doing the thing from tiktok where they’re all like “My boyfriend just told me he doesn’t love me anymore” all bc they told them that they couldn’t shop on Amazon anymore? 😂😂😂

I dunno what this was tbh.

Jason

Raises his brow at you the moment you say this, unamused. ‘Says the one who’s spending unnecessary amounts of money on 50cm plushies.’ He retorts.

You huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘Could’ve fooled me.’ You really wanted that 50cm hello kitty plush but Jason had to pull you away from doing so unfairly.

Jason groaned as he knelt in front of you. ‘Sweetheart, if I could I would give you all the plushies your heart desires, but you’ve got to think we’ve got limited living space and besides you were bound to get annoyed with how much space they take up sooner or later. I’m doing this for us, okay?’ He said as he searched your eyes.

You started at him for a bit before relaxing your arms. ‘Okay.’ You murmured.

Jason smiled, ‘do you take back your statement about me not loving you?’ He asked.

‘I guess.’ You replied, still not looking at him but Jason brought his hand to your chin and gently moved it so that you were stuck staring at him as he smiled at you sweetly. ‘I’ll ask again, do you take back the statement that I don’t love you?’

‘Yes, I take it back.’ You said louder this time. ‘I take back my statement that you don’t love me, I was being dramatic and I’m sorry that’s I’d ever say anything bad about me sweet, handsome man.’ You added when Jason didn’t think you were being honest and decided to butter him up with flattery.

Jason chuckled as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Flatter won’t get you anywhere sweetheart but I appreciate the attempt, I’ll buy you a plushy for being good as long as you don’t spout such nonsense.’ He hums as he pressed a kiss to your nose before one more against your lips.

‘I promise.’ You said as you closed your eyes, knowing well enough that you could never say such things again when he treated you with nothing but love, respect and willingness to compromise. That and you could never stay mad at him for too long, you didn’t have the heart to.

Dick pouts but still stands strong on his stance.

‘I do love you baby but this has become an addiction, I’m only trying to save you the embarrassment from having your card decline for insufficient funds.’ Dick tells you as though he was helping you break a shitty habit, which you guess he was, but it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t help but buy that one plushy! It looked so lonely and you wanted to give it a home!

‘But, but-‘

‘No buts.’ Dick replied sternly. ‘The plushy would’ve found a better home with that kid that came into the store after us,’ he then squeezed your hand reassuringly, ‘besides i don’t think you really want to Hayley to get to them.’

You winced thinking about how the poor plushies would get torn apart within seconds if Hayley found them, which is why you kept all of your plushies elsewhere while getting Hayley her how set of toys, was it a bit much? Yeah but if it was to make your sweet puppy happy then you’d more than willingly go bankrupt for her just to see her little happy paw tippy taps. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You admitted defeatedly.

‘You hurt my heart when you said I didn’t love you anymore.’ Dick feels you and he brought your hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. ‘You know I love you more than anything, so please don’t go hurting my heart for the sole purpose of loving you without fail.’ You couldn’t help but internally coo at his words and know that realistically he was looking out for you, so you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed with how dramatic you are being, especially over something that you could easily get when Dick wasn’t looking.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him after all.

‘I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you.’ You asked as you looked into his pretty eyes.

‘Since you’re offering Preferably some cuddles, kisses and even more kisses from the most beautiful person I know.’ Dick said with a cheeky smile on his face, the little shit had been planning this the entire time, the conniving little fucker and you fell for his trap without much difficulty. And now you were stuck coddling this smug man as he patted himself on the back for getting back at you for being dramatic over some plushy that he may or may not have bought you already.

[eroselless]

───────────────────somebody else // 3

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [3.1k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, insecure reader, unprotected smut (don’t be silly, wrap that willy!)

note: Magui is mentioned in this chapter and will be mentioned going forward and I know there’s lots of conversations on the internet about her. I honestly just used her in this story to avoid having to come with an original character. I don’t like to comment or get into driver’s actual personal lives so please if there’s any comments y’all want to make of her that doesn’t have to do with this story, please take it elsewhere. 

The morning inevitably comes, the early light filtering through the blinds, gently pulling you from your slumber. You blink slowly, discarding sleep from your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you suddenly remember where you are. Lando's arm tightens around your waist, and his face burrows deeper into your back, still deeply asleep. Carefully, you try to slip out from under his arm without disturbing him. His hold loosens reluctantly as you rise, and you begin gathering your things in silence. 

You catch a glance of yourself in the full length mirror he has sitting in the corner of the room. What you see is almost something pulled straight from a dream. Your hair is disheveled but in a way that only shows how deeply you had slept the night before. Lando’s shirt clings to your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. As you stand there, you can see him breathing deeply behind you. His arm is outstretched, reaching over your now empty spot on the bed. He’s almost lost in the clouds that are the blankets of his bed. 

You swell with emotion, the domestically of this moment proving to weigh too much on your chest. You swiftly pull the shirt off, fold it and leave it on a chair before putting on your clothes from last night. Moving towards the door, you feel your foot nudge something hard on the floor. Your eyes flicker down, seeing what you only assume is Lando’s phone resting there, almost dead. Picking it up, instinctively, you plug it into the charger by the bedside table, eyes catching a 12 hour's old message illuminating the screen. 

Your stomach twists when you see the name on the message. Magui. You’d see her linked to him, seeing him around Monaco with her things, driving her around in his cars. You peer over the phone, eyes reading over the words on the phone. 

The knot in your chest tightens as you read the text:

already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)

Every letter seems to twist in your chest like a knife. The implication was clear-–whatever happened last night, before your tryst under the dancefloor lights, was anything but friendly. Your breath hitches, and you set the phone down carefully, it feels too hot in your hand now. It's almost as if it’s trying to mock you with the memory of last night’s events. It was too good to be true, you think, the thrill of last night fading into the cruel light of reality. Maybe you happened to just be in the right place at the right time, a convenient substitute for something he had been craving. 

Your footsteps are light as you make your way out, taking one last glance at Lando’s sleeping form before closing the door behind you.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun is already high in the sky by the time you arrive at the track. The same excited buzz that lingers in the air feels different today, it causes your stomach to turn and every step you take feels heavier the further in you go. Your heart pounds as you step into the paddock, nerves running high as you anticipate Lando’s visit, a pavlovian reaction you’ve developed. But you’re assigned to the Ferrari garage for today, something about the overwhelming influx of guests and reporters.  

You’re grateful for the distractions, being away from the McLaren suite is a welcome relief–-you don’t think you could handle facing Lando just yet. You keep reminding yourself that it was a drunken kiss, a mess of touches that happened in the heat of the moment, a memory Lando might not even remember. The glow of the text message on his phone only reinforces that idea. It might as well be left off as a memory, you think. After all, it seemed to imply that he already had someone to occupy his time. You were just … there. 

You’re pouring a drink when you hear a familiar voice greet you from behind. Turning, you find Carlos leaning casually against a table, an easy smile hanging from his lips as you hand him a bottle of water.

“Looks like you’ve been promoted, working for the red team today,” he teased lightly.

You chuckled, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess they needed someone with my impressive drink-carting skills,” you joked, catching his eye.

Carlos grins, taking a long sip before lowering the bottle. “Well, at least you’re making this garage look better,” he adds, giving you a playful once-over.

You laugh again, this time a little more naturally, but as your eyes meet his, you see something shift in Carlos’s expression—his gaze briefly darting past you.

You turn just in time to see Lando making his way over, his strides purposeful. Carlos straightens, the easygoing look still on his face but a hint of something else lurking beneath it. The tension between the three of you is almost palpable. There’s that twist in your gut, the face you’d been dreading to see again. There was that voice that lingers in the back of your mind, once again reminding you that it told you so. 

“Hey, you,” Lando greets casually, his voice steady but lower than usual. He doesn’t hesitate pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels almost possessive. His lips brush your cheek in a fleeting kiss, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. It’s warm, familiar, but it only makes the tension inside you grow. It makes your head spin. 

“Hi,” you manage to say, feeling breathless as you return the hug. Your voice feels quiet, fragile. Almost like if you spoke too loudly, it would shatter in your voicebox. You try your best to keep up the smile that had been painted on your face just a minute later. You can feel Carlos’s eyes still on you, watching the interaction closely. You can’t place Lando’s expression, unsure of what could be going on in his head. 

As you step back from Lando’s embrace, you give Carlos an apologetic smile before excusing yourself to attend to the guests nearby. With a quick smile, you excuse yourself, leaving Lando standing there, watching as you disappear into the crowd. The moment you’re out of earshot, the air between the two drivers shifts. 

Carlos arches an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

Lando narrows his eyes slightly. “Just making sure everything’s in check.”

Carlos smirks, clearly picking up on the unspoken tension. “Yeah? Everything in check, huh?” He pauses, and then with a more pointed tone, he adds, “Including Magui?”

Lando stiffens slightly, but doesn’t take the bait. “That’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Hasn’t it?” Carlos tilts his head. “You know, mate, maybe it’s time you figure out what you actually want before someone else makes that decision for you.”

Lando frowns, not answering immediately. His gaze flickers to where you’re standing, deep in conversation with a group of guests. There’s a carefree look on your face as you interact with them, a genuine smile he can’t help but adore. Carlos, seeing the hesitation, claps a hand on Lando’s shoulder.

“Look, if you’re serious, don’t just sit around waiting for it to blow over,” Carlos says, his tone shifting from teasing to genuine. “Otherwise, someone else might step in. And who knows,” he adds with a smirk, “maybe I will.”

Lando gives him a look, but Carlos just laughs it off, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, man. You’ve got enough to deal with, but you’re playing with fire.”

Before Lando can respond, a team member calls him away, and with a final look between them, Carlos steps back, watching Lando go with a knowing smile.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The day passes in a haze, the roar of the engines filling the air and drowning the chatter in your head. You do your best to focus on your duties in the Ferrari garage, but the weight of Lando’s gaze bears heavy on you whenever you catch a glimpse of his car zooming past you on the track. It's like a tether—one that pulls tighter and tighter with every passing moment. 

The race finally comes to a close, the sun having fallen through the sky, dipping below the horizon. The energy in the paddock becomes electric as he comes in second, right on Carlos’s tail. The cheers and celebrations blur around you as the drivers finish their interviews, spraying champagne and basking in the excitement. You can feel Lando’s eyes on you, even as he stands among the flashing cameras and jubilant crowds of journalists. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as move around the paddock, eventually returning to the equally bustling McLaren suite. 

As the crowd thins, you don’t get far before you feel a hand wrap around your wrist that tugs you away from the crowd. It weaves you through the paddock, past the media, past the throngs of people, until you find yourselves alone in the privacy of his driver’s room. 

The door clicks behind you, the noise now muffled by the walls around you. The tension between you hangs heavy in the air as you stand nervously at the door, it's thick and suffocating. 

“Lando–”

He doesn’t let you finish. In one swift motion, he pulls you against him, mouth encapsulating yours with a fervor that catches you off guard. It's not unlike how he kissed you at the club but this time you have the reassurance that you’re both stone cold sober.

His kiss is heated, desperate, as if he’s trying to pour every ounce of feeling into that moment. The taste of champagne lingers on his lips, and you feel the raw energy coursing through him, a mixture of adrenaline and something deeper—something possessive.

Your body betrays you as you respond to his kiss, the want, the need of him too strong to resist. His hands roam your body, pulling a whine from your lips as he presses his hips to yours. He anchors you to him but it’s more than just a physical desire now. There’s something else in the way he touches you, as though he’s afraid to let go. 

It's dizzying, the way he holds you, his fingers digging into your skin. You respond just as eagerly, hands tangling in his curls, feeling the way his hair slips through your fingers, unruly and messy after being trapped under his helmet. He deeps the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips. Just like he did in the dimly lit bathroom, he seems to take your breath away, setting a fire in your chest.

You feel his body against yours, solid and warm, heat radiating from him like a furnace. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly as he walks you backward toward the small bed. Your legs hit the edge, and you stumble slightly, but Lando doesn’t break the kiss, his mouth still moving with fervor against yours as he lowers you onto the bed.

He hovers over you, not yet ready to press his full body weight on top of yours. You whimper as his lips trail down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. It makes you arch your back into him, hands taking purchase of the thick muscle of his back. 

“Lando…” you breathe, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He responds with a low, guttural hum, his lips moving lower, his teeth grazing along your collarbone before his hands begin to tug at the hem of your shirt. You help him, lifting your arms as he pulls it over your head in one swift motion, leaving you exposed beneath him.

His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his breathing heavy. There’s something primal in the way he stares, as if he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. His hands find your skin again, exploring, caressing, his touch both gentle and possessive as his fingers trace patterns across your stomach, your sides, your breasts.

You feel your pulse quickening with every sleight of his hand, every kiss he places along your exposed chest. He takes his time moving over the vast plains of your skin, counting every freckle, every mole. He’s savoring you, trying engrave in his mind the way you taste, the way you feel against him, the way your whines echo through the room. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as his lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, sending shivers down your spine.

His hands are everywhere, stroking teasing, setting your skin aflame as he worships every inch of you. His lips trail lower, leaving a hot trail behind them as he moves closer to waistband.

Your lustful trans in interupted as you see his phone light up silently where it's thrown carelessly on the table nearby. He doesn’t notice it as he moves to unbutton your pants. You want to pull away, tell him to stop. Tell him you don’t want this, that you don’t crave this—the closeness, the intensity of his touch. But you don’t. 

It’s the same part that wanted him back in the club, under those neon lights. But now, even with him so close, the doubt lingers in the back of your mind. Magui’s name feels like a ghost between you, hovering in the room, even though you don’t dare utter it aloud.

You reach for him again, the feeling of his lips on the tops of your thighs bringing you back. You pull him up, pressing your lips to his once again. You tug at his fireproofs, pulling it over his head, revealing the toned lines of his body, muscles softly rippling beneath his skin. The rush of the moment stills for a second and now it's your turn to try to memorize what he looks like. 

Your fingers dance delicately over the taut skin, dragging them down his sternum, counting every mole and feeling each valley you come across. Your eyes flicker up briefly, catching a glint in his eyes you hadn’t quite seen before. But before you can mull over it too much, his lips find yours in a kiss that’s just as intense as before. 

His hands slide into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down, leaving you bare beneath him. The cool air hits your skin and you suck in a breath, the coolness being replaced by his warmth. His body is pressed against yours and hard as you might try, you can’t bring yourself to stop the sinking feeling you begin to feel in your chest. 

His kisses grow more frantic, more needy, and you can feel his desire for you in every movement, every touch. You respond in kind, your own need for him matching his as your hands roam his back, his chest, pulling him closer. The world outside the room fades away, and for a brief moment, it’s just you and him, tangled together in a mess of limbs, breathless kisses, and heated skin.

When he finally moves between your legs, you gasp, your body arching into him, craving the contact, the connection. His eyes lock with yours, and there’s a moment of stillness as he hovers over you, the weight of everything unspoken between you pressing down on your chest.

Each touch, each breath shared between you only makes that nagging voice in the back of your mind grow louder. Does he feel this way with her too? Is this just another moment, another temporary high, easily forgotten once the race weekend is over? Will he be quick to forget you as he’s forgetting her—quickly falling into her embrace as he is falling into yours?

The questions fail to reach your lips, dissolving on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. He pushes into you with a groan, his forehead resting against yours, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the sensation overwhelms you.

The rhythm between starts off slow, tender, as if he’s trying to say a million words with every thrust, every kiss, every movement. But it’s not enough. Doubt still lingers in the forefront of your mind and even though your body responds to his ministrations, your heart remains guarded, wary. 

His pace quickens, his breathing ragged as he moves faster, deeper, and you cling to him, your own breath coming in short gasps as the pleasure builds. He cries your name, lips finding yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. It’s overwhelming, the feeling of him inside you, the way his hands grip your hips, the way he looms over you. 

Your body reaches its peak, but as the waves of pleasure crash over you, the doubt remains. You can almost imagine her in this same position, writhing beneath him as he gives himself to you. Her face haunts you, the image of them together, his hands over her, holding her just as tight. 

But you don't bring it up, you don’t ask the questions that repeat over and over in your mind. You're afraid of what the answer will be. Afraid that this moment will merely be a chapter in the novel of time, lost in the frayed pages of a book long hidden away. 

When it's over, he lies on your chest. It's terribly domestic as he draws circles on your exposed belly and chest, lips tracing over the skin tenderly. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. The words are there, waiting to be spoken—questions, doubts, confessions—but neither of you has the courage to break the silence. Maybe it’s easier this way, not confronting whatever this is. Maybe it’s safer to pretend it’s just the high from his victory, that this moment will pass, leaving no lasting trace.

His phone lights up again and you see his eyes flicker to it briefly before you both begin to rise from your temporary bliss. That's when you realize it. You don’t have the heart to keep doing this. The uncertainty, the doubt, that cry in the back of your mind. It’s all too much. You can’t be part of something where the lines are so blurred, where neither of you is willing to admit the truth.

So, you walk away.

tags: @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind

a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! i was honestly so excited and surprisingly had lots of fun while writing this rather emotional chapter. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

[reidmania]

I MISS YOU IM SORRY | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist!!

summary; Spencer calls after being broken up for a month.

warnings ; fem reader, hopeful/happy ending, angst, exes to lovers, mentions of arguments, breakups, miscommunication, avoidant reader, loving spencer, break up bc reader pushed him away bc of self doubt, pretty tame. i love this i think

an ; RAHH fic twoooooo ehehehe. risk is coming soon i just had to pump out the angst really quick ok bare w me!!

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it Please be honest, are we better for it? Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it. You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it I miss fightin' in your old apartment. Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed. I still love you, I promise. Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted And I know you said that we're not talkin' But I miss you, I'm sorry

The call came as a shock. When you were holding onto the doors of your pantry, leaning back slightly as your eyes skimmed over the contents of it — Which was not a lot. You we’re thinking about that fact you needed to go grocery shopping.

How long could you avoid that?

It started right after you and Spencer broke up, where you refused to go because of the chance that you might see Spencer there. It was right between yours and his apartment so the chances weren’t completely low — and normally you and Spencer did the grocery shopping together.

It would normally consist of you dancing around the store picking up random things and Spencer watching you fondly as he pushed the cart. He would mutter something about what was healthiest and you would hum approvingly then grab the opposite of whatever he suggest because it ‘tasted better’ He would chuckle and press his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted to relive that so bad that the idea of being inside the shops without him seemed so wrong. It felt like doing something behind his back. Like watching an episode of the show you two were watching together without him. It just felt wrong.

So you decided you would go to a different shop, an hour drive away. Just to be safe, but who just had time for that?

Which was how your pantry had gotten near empty.

You still had the big bag of his coffee beans that he left here. The ones you weren’t a fan of buy it didn’t matter because Spencer would compromise and just buy both, or just yours. You had use all of yours and started using the ones he left here.

They left a bitter taste on your tongue and a sweet sensation down the back of your throat, they were strong and kept you awake for hours longer than your normal ones did — but weirdly enough; they felt like home.

The bag was brand-less, and you should’ve memorised what it was you were sure you knew. You just couldn’t remember.

How were you suppose to ask? Call him? Message him? Pop by his house and ask. You were sure if he got any soft of contact from you— about anything, you would be blocked in milliseconds. The feeling that thought provided made your stomach tighten more than you’d like to admit.

You almost stumbled over your own feet when you closed the pantry as your phone started to ring, you saw it light up with a contact but your mind paid little attention as you answered, not even actually looking at your phone, your attention elsewhere.

“Hello?” You muttered as you walked towards the coffee machine you and Spencer had decided to get as an anniversary present. To fuel both your coffee addictions. You shoulder held your phone against your ear as you grabbed the bag of coffee beans — Spencers coffee beans.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone, “Hey.” The voice. His voice. Tired and groggy as if he had just woken up but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t. You pulled your phone away from your ear as your mind clouded foggy. Your eyes danced over his contact for a moment. He was calling you — He called you. it sent familiar butterflies to your ribcage.

“Spencer?” You exhaled, despite already knowing it was him. You wondered if maybe this was some prank, if he was just calling because he needed something or maybe to call you and degrade you over every mistake you made in the ending of your relationship — you deserved that.

He had every right to hate you for how things ended, he had every right to hate you, period. You had assumed that was how he felt towards you. Hatred. You knew he loved you throughout your relationship, that wasn’t something you had to question but the idea of that still being the case after everything unfolded the way it did.. It didn’t even seem fathomable.

“Hi” He repeated. His voice was low and quiet, you didn’t know what that meant and it was driving you insane. Your feet pattered around the house suddenly feeling cold in the kitchen. Nothing but memories fogging your mind every corner you looked — that didn’t go away as you moved around the house. It was filled by him and it was consuming you whole. 

You let out a heavy breath. “Do you need something?” It didn’t come out how you wanted it to. It wasn’t harsh or anything but your voice weakened half way through your words making embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.

The other side of the phone was silent for a minute, making anxiety pool in your stomach. Your head tilted as you sat on the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in the blanket on the couch — the one you used more often than you’d like to admit, since some night sleeping in the bed that was suppose to be shared with Spencer felt all too consuming, the way his scent lingered faintly over the sheets and his little nothings covered the window sill, his jacket still hung up in the closet.

“Spence are you okay?” The nickname fell from your lips before you could try to stop it. You heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone making your stomach twist. Slight worry and confusion filled the wrinkles by your eyes as you squinted slightly.

“Ye- Im.. Im okay” He breathed out his voice heavy and filled with something you couldn’t place if you tried. You were sure it was an emotion you had felt since you felt a sick feeling of familiarity in your abdomen. “I just- Can we talk?” He asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your knees pulled to your chest. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” You asked, in your mind there was a point to this conversation, there was something specific he needed to talk to you about or why else would he call. He wouldn’t, you thought.

“No-Not like that, i just- I just want to talk to you, about anything. Whatever you want I just—” There was a pause, his voice got quiet, almost a whisper, “I miss you.” The words that left his lips buried themselves deep inside your chest, building themselves a home there.

Your head span. He said it so quietly you were scared you might’ve missed it if he said it any quieter. But you didn’t, you caught it. A deep breath left your chest as your hand came to your forehead, your mind was so focused on the fact that, he missed you. He called because he missed you. You almost forgot to answer him. You figured if he said the comment so quietly, maybe he didn’t want a reply on it, so you continued on with the conversation as the words interfered with the rhythmic beating of your heart.

“What coffee beans to do you buy?” You settled on. You heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone before passing a comment asking ‘why? You hated them’ It made your heart flutter uncomfortablely. The two of you continued talking about coffee beans for ten minutes before he muttered about how he had to go, you knew it was probably work related. But god he sounded so sad saying it.

“Spencer?” You asked softly, your voice coming out quieter than what you expected. You heard his soft hum on the other side of the phone. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how your entire being craved him every minute of everyday regardless of what you did — nothing in the world could fill the him-shaped- hole that took up the space of your gut.

“I’m sorry” You apologised and you hoped it was clear you were apologising for everything, for the arguments, for the breakup, for pushing him away for no real good reason beside your own self doubt. It was the sorry you were too proud to mutter out a month ago.

There was a moment on the other side of the phone where you were almost convinced he was going to hang up — you worried you brought up what he didn’t want to talk about.

But instead, “I miss you.” He said louder this time, as if he believed you didn’t hear it the first time. The words made your stomach clench tightly and your muscles both tighten and relax at the same time.

You sigh, you should have shut up. He had to go, you know that but the words came out honestly as “I still love you” You said. You wanted to slap yourself in the face, now you really weren’t gonna be surprised if he hung up and blocked you.

There was a heavy breath, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “Well-“ He huffed, “If you still love me, and- I still love you..” He muttered out intentionally, hoping you caught on to what he was insinuating. Your mind however was captivated by the fact that, he still loved you.

“We should probably talk” He finished when you didn’t, “Please?” It was thrown in there both to use manners and to show how badly he wanted this. You weren’t ever gonna say no in the first place.

“We should. Do you need to go grocery shopping?” You asked, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you almost smiled. You could almost imagine his confusion.

“Um— I guess that depends —Do you?” He asked. You huffed out a small laugh, nodding your head absentmindedly as you realised he couldn’t see you. “Do you still go to-“

He cut you off, “No. No i started going to the one across town, about an hour away” He said, honestly. You head tilted slightly as you realised he started going to the one you were going to. The conversation continued as you both ignored — or forgot the fact he needed to go.

“Why?”

“So you didn’t feel uncomfortable if I was there when you were” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made your stomach scrunch up and your chest to bruise your ribcage as the beating of your heart only increased.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, at our shop. Then um— you can come here and I can make you coffee?” You suggested slightly awkwardly, as you worried about the chance of rejection and the embarrassment you would feel.

“It’s a date.” He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.

“Okay.” You exhaled out.

[moonchild9350]

Firsts

Summary: Hyunjin reminisces on all of your 'firsts' together as a couple.

Pairing: nonidol!Hyunjin x fab!reader

Genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: time jumps, kissing, hand job, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), mention of birth control, creampie, Hyunjin is in love lol

Notes: just wanted to write another fic from Hyunjin's pov! this was supposed to be short but here we are lol

If you enjoyed please consider a comment, reblog, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Firsts are scary. At least that is what Hyunjin thought wholeheartedly, that is until he met you. You with your cheery demeanor, your kind heart and lust for life. He loves your beauty, your body, your everything, but he also loves who you are on the inside.

Over the last year you’ve both shared many firsts with each other, each time they occur giving him butterflies deep within as if it’s the first time you’ve met.

— —

Hyunjin was nervous for your first date, the jitters getting the best of him as he checked his hair in the mirror for the millionth time. His heart was pounding within his chest, so hard he thought it was going to burst.

He picked out flowers for you earlier in the day, unsure of what you’d like. Maybe the roses? But also what about the carnations? He spent so long staring at the two options that the clerk came by to make sure he was okay asking if he needed any help.

In the end he chose the roses, sticking to a safe choice. He carefully cared for them home, making sure not to crush the delicate petals, their floral scent traveling to his nose causing him to smile. He kept them in water until it was time to pick you up, the stems dripping all over the floor and ultimately his pants staining them.

Hyunjin felt embarrassed at the stain, convinced you would slam the door in his face, tsking that he was a mess. However, you did the exact opposite, your squeal of delight reaching his ears, which turned a bright red in response. You whisked the flowers from his hands, setting them in a vase of water before following him outside.

He took you to dinner, at a cute little restaurant in town that you had been gushing about. He found it easy to chat with you, the conversation flowing nonstop. He made sure to listen to all of your likes and dislikes, wanting to learn more about you which was easy to do since it was you.

You both enjoyed your meal, staying for the cheesecake and that extra glass of wine, your hearts wildly beating at the prospect of other dates to come.

But all good things must come to an end, the night wrapping up way too soon. Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment in the warm night air, the city slowing down as people hurried home. He’d hope to see you again as he wanted to shower you with affection and treat you the way you deserve.

Hyunjin looked forward to more firsts with you, the concept not as scary as it seemed before

Not long after your first date, he took you to movie , as you had a love for films just like him. It was an older film, repurposed for the modern theater, one you both enjoyed and discussed many times over a late night chat.

The theater in town was old, the building itself a time capsule of when it was built in the early beginnings of the sleepy town.

You both sat in the red chairs, looking at each other as you blushed and giggled, each of you a nervous wreck. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, so he quickly looked away and focused on the screen, watching the ads that were playing.

Soon, the lights dimmed and the film began. He couldn’t stop looking at you from the corner of his eye, trying to catch a glimpse of you as you focused straight ahead. His heart was beating, his thigh bouncing up and down as he tried to pay attention to the film.

If he thought he was nervous then nothing could have prepared him for how nervous he would be watching you creep your hand to rest on the armrest separating you two.

Your hand rested there delicately, your perfectly manicured nails on display. His palms were clammy, as beads of sweat prickled at his forehead. He tried to subtly wipe his hands off on his pants, hoping you wouldn’t see.

Suddenly, you looked his way, his head turning to meet your eyes. You gave him a smile, butterflies fluttering in his chest at your beauty. He looked at your hand, now facing palm up and back to your eyes. You gave him another reassuring smile before wiggling your fingers teasingly.

Before he could overthink his actions, he quickly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before resting his palm on top of yours. You giggled quietly before lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze once settled.

Hyunjin was over the moon, a smile gracing his face as he turned to face the screen again. There was incessant pounding of his heart in his chest, as he held your hand in his, not believing that this was happening.

He found he couldn’t focus on the film, his thoughts on how your tiny hand fit in his perfectly, almost like two puzzle pieces finding their home together. He thought of how he could feel your pulse, the thump thump radiating off his skin. If he could feel your heart beat, could you feel his and how it ached for you?

His mind was a flurry of thoughts as he barely paid attention to the film, not even noticing it was over until the very end when you sweetly said his name, the sound sweet like honey to his ears.

He blushed, feeling embarrassed at his mishap.

“Ready then?” He asked you, squeezing your hand in his.

“Mmhmm I am,” you said, your eyes locked on him.

Hyunjin chatted with you about the film as you both walked down the sidewalk, your chatter warming his heart, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The street lamps set a yellow glow, illuminating the way as you passed others on their way to a destination only they know.

Stopping at a street corner, he takes a deep breath, his eyes gazing at you through his periphery. You stand there with your hands at your side, your gaze straight ahead.

Hyunjin desperately wants to touch you, feel your warm hand in his once more. He wants to feel how your fingers lightly brush against his as they bend and fold to rest upon his.

Would you pull your hand away if he reached out to grab ahold of it?

He thinks and thinks, his teeth biting his bottom lip as he ponders at what he should do. You’ve held hands in the theater, but it was dark inside and not as…as public. He’s not sure why he’s this nervous. It’s you, the love of his life, the sweet girl who bumped into him at the cafe down the street from your house. And of course you just met, but he feels as if he’s known you his whole life.

Taking a breath, he builds the courage to reach down and grab your hand, right as the signal to walk changes from red to white. He looks at you, his eyebrows raised as you stare up at him in shock, your cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of red.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

Hyunjin was cut off by your hand squeezing his.

“Don’t be sorry, I like this Hyun,” you responded, your face spreading into a smile.

Hyunjin nodded his head and smiled back, his dimple popping up on his cheek. He shook his head in resolve and started walking with you by his side. He couldn’t believe something as simple as holding your hand could make him feel this way, as if he had just won the lottery and was the luckiest man alive. He’d make sure to remember this moment for the rest of his life that’s for sure

Your relationship progressed, both of you comfortably falling into each other’s routines, your two paths merging as if it was always meant to be.

You both opted for an at home date, agreeing to cook dinner together. Hyunjin never cooked before he met you, opting to fill his stomach with take out from the local restaurants. When you found out his diet was not the best, you flipped, shrieking how he needed proper nutrients and that you would take care of his meals.

That was the start of you cooking and bringing his meals to his home, making sure he ate properly each day. He blushed as you fussed over the containers, unloading them one by one from your bag. You explained when to eat what and what each item was, as you scurried across his kitchen.

Eventually, he suggested that you come over and show him how to cook basic meals, so that way you didn’t have to make extra portions.

This suggestion led to both of you elbow deep in dough, as you showed him how to make bread, your arms flexing as you carefully kneaded the dough. He watched in awe as you worked, little droplets of sweat dripping down the side of your face.

Hyunjin didn’t realize he was staring until you asked him a question as you used the back of your arm to wipe the sweat off your face.

“Hyun!” You said, giggling as he shook his head to break out of his reverie.

“What did you ask?” Hyunjin replied sheepishly, his hands reaching for anything in his reach.

You chuckled and bumped against his arm, “I asked if you had any questions so far?”

Hyunjin had many questions as he wasn’t paying attention to your instructions, but he didn’t want to dishearten you so he said no and continued to knead the dough that was in front of him.

You both worked in comfortable silence with soft music playing in the background. Hyunjin watched as you reached into the bag of flower, grasping a finger full. You were about to throw it on the counter so the dough wouldn’t stick, but at the last second you flicked your wrist towards him, the flour flying through the air and landing on his face.

Hyunjin let out a shriek, your cackles filling the kitchen as you doubled over clutching your stomach. Hyunjin chuckled, reached into the flour bag and grabbed a handful, launching it you.

An all out flour war began, both of you leaping and dodging each other, flour flying everywhere, the powder floating gently through the air. Your clothes were splattered with the white substance, as you pelted each other. Hyunjin’s deep laughter mixed your tinkling sound, the cacophony resonating throughout the little kitchen.

Hyunjin watched as you grabbed another hand full of flour, but just as you were about to launch it at him, you slipped on the powder littering the floor, your arms flailing forwards. You shrieked and drop towards the floor, your hands reaching out to grab onto anything you could.

He quickly reached out his hands and caught you, cradling you gently within his ams. You both were breathing heavy, your chests rapidly rising and falling, little puffs of air coming from your lips as you both stood there in silence.

Hyunjin helped you stand back up, his hands traveling down your arms. He gazed down at you, his eyes catching yours. You looked beautiful, your cheeks flushed with specks of flour, wisps of your hair falling into your face.

Hyunjin’s breath caught as his gaze drifted to your lips, his mind wandering how they would feel on his. It’s not the first time he’s thought this, the idea floating around his head late at night as he laid in bed, his hand drifting to his cock that seems to always be hard during the night hours as he thinks of you.

Your eyes widen, your pupils dilating as you waited in anticipation for his next move. Time seemed to stand still as Hyunjin took a breath and gently cupped your chin, gently tipping your head up.

Leaning down, he slowly closed the gap between you two until he could feel your breath on him. There was a pause as you both stood together, his hand on your chin, his forehead against yours. Closing the final distance, your lips collided. Your lips were soft on his as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, your torso until they reached your waist.

Hyunjin could hear fireworks going off within his head and he smiled at the cliche thought, as he continued to move his lips against yours. He shivered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he continued to kiss you gently but passionately.

Just when he thought he’d run out of oxygen, you pulled away partially, a string of spit connecting your two lips, as you fought to catch your breath. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours and let out a chuckle as you smiled, your fingers softly carding through his hair.

You both stood there gazing at each other, your lips pressing together again and again in breathy exchange. The night went on, the dough forgotten as you embraced each other, listening to the sound of your hearts beating and the sound of the soft notes of a piano flowing throughout the room.

“Let’s watch a movie baby,” you cooed, snuggling closer to him, your head nuzzling into his chest.

You both were in your bed, spending a lazy day together. Hyunjin loved being in your room, being surrounded by your scent, with the presence of your interests scattered throughout the room. He pulled you closer, chuckling as you squeaked at the sudden movement.

Your legs were wrapped around his, your hand on his belly as he lightly brushed his fingertips down your spine. Hyunjin has dreamed of a moment like this for weeks, wanting you within his arms, the promise of more lingering in the air.

And that’s exactly how the night went. He remembers lowering you on your back, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your big brown eyes staring up at him.

He pressed wet kisses all over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, his cock swelling at the sound of your sweet moans as he worshipped your body. He found himself grinding into you, his cock meeting your core with each pass, strangled moans leaving his lips.

Hyunjin held his breath as you rid yourself of your shirt, tossing it away before settling back onto the pillow. He swallowed as you fondled your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples looking at him with a hooded gaze.

“Touch me,” you breathed, your lips parted as you watched his every move.

He grasped your breasts, cupping the flesh as his fingers brushed and tugged against your nipples. He listened to your moans, his eyes widening as you arched into his touch, your hands reaching out to meet his. Hyunjin reveled in how they felt perfect within the palm of his hand, soft and plushy, his mind reeling at the feel of them.

He groaned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, your back arching into him as he licked and sucked, his other hand massaging your other breast. He felt euphoric, waves of pleasure traveling through his body as he pleasured you.

Releasing your nipple with a pop, he hurriedly rid himself of his boxers, his cock slapping against his belly at the force and pre cum oozing from his tip. He took in your gaze, as you licked your lips at the sight of his member, your hands reaching out to encircle his length.

He whimpered as you slid your hand against his shaft, your palm coming up to circle the head over and over. His mouth was wide open as he shuddered in pleasure, his hips slightly thrusting up into your hand. You stroked him harder, faster, your eyes trained on him, a smirk forming on your face as you watched him fall apart above you.

“Can’t…stop love,” Hyunjin breathed, his hand reaching out to gently remove yours from his cock. “Need to be in you. Will you let me have you?” He asked with hope in your eyes.

He groaned out as you parted your legs more, displaying your wet pussy to him.

“Of course baby,” you cooed as you reached down to part your folds so your leaking entrance was on display.

Hyunjin grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it at your hole. He was about to push in when he stopped, hesitating to proceed.

You looked up at him curiously as you asked, “why’d you stop?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, his eyes roaming up your body until they landed on your brown orbs.

“I um…I don’t have a condom,” he replied, his eyes cast downward at the implications of not being able to have you.

However, he perked up when you responded, a wide smile on your face.

“I’m on birth control, so we don’t need one if you don’t mind.”

He felt his heart flutter, his cock twitching at the thought of not only having you for the first time but also bare. He gripped his cock harder and brushed his tip through your folds, the head catching on your clit before trailing back down to your entrance.

He pushed within you, his eyes trained on your pussy as your warm walls engulfed him like a hug. He faltered slightly, letting out a breath as the pleasure was too overwhelming. You were so wet, the slide easy as he pushed further within you.

He groaned as you whimpered, spreading your legs wider so you could watch where you two were connected. Hyunjin began thrusting his hips into you, his breath stuttering as your pussy clenched around him, holding him in.

He wasn’t going to last long, the feeling of you, the smell of you, even the sound of you being too overwhelming. He quickly attached his lips to yours as he brought his hand to your clit, sloppily circling the bud to get you to your high.

He could feel you shivering beneath him, your hands clawing at his back as he pounded into you. His face was buried in your neck, your lips at his ear whispering the most dirty things, causing him to groan.

You continuously clenched around him, your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him tight, your legs wrapping around his thighs pulling him deeper within you.

You whined his name, whimpering “don’t stop” over and over.

You were driving him insane.

He was moments away from claiming you, his cock swelling at the thought of getting to fill you with his seed. His hips stuttered as his cock twitched within your walls, his mind a mess as he couldn’t think straight.

You lifted his head and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the action tipping him over the edge, reaching that euphoria he has only experienced within the confines of his room or in his dreams.

It was better than he could imagine, causing him to whimper as his cum filled you within. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you gasped as you reached your high, the rhythmic contraction of your walls milking him dry.

Hyunjin swallowed your moans, his body caging yours as he lazily rocked into you, riding out both of your highs.

He let out a shaky breath before pulling back, taking in your sweaty body beneath his, the clear sheen coating every inch of your skin. He withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy, your walls contracting at the emptiness and pushing out the white liquid.

“I love you,” you whispered as you gazed up at him, a soft smile gracing your face.

Hyunjin felt his heart swell at the confession, his love for you expanding by the second.

You loved him.

He mouthed the words before running a hand through his hair.

You loved him.

Looking down at you lovingly, he pushed your hair back from your face, his eyes taking in the afterglow. He licked his lips and kissed you before laying down next to you and pulling you close.

“I love you.” He repeated, meaning every word as it left his mouth.

— —

Yeah firsts are scary. Hyunjin has never liked them. However, he doesn’t mind sharing firsts with you, the love of his life.

He remembers that as you descend the steps, dressed in a beautiful little black dress, your hair carefully fixed and makeup done to perfection.

Here Hyunjin is celebrating yet another first with you, your first anniversary, and he could not be happier and more satisfied.

You are his first but also his last.

Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

[aealzx]

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Prologue | AO3

Previous Next

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“You came all the way out here to ask me to identify a plant?” Pamela was understandably incredulous as she blocked Tim from entering her current residence.

“Weeelll,” Tim drawled, shrugging with one shoulder. “Spoiler and Orphan said you’d be the best to contact. We could go elsewhere, but then I’d have to find somewhere else for these bacon and egg sandwiches,” he explained, revealing the hand that was behind his back to be holding a paper bag for a local food joint. It was a bribe. Or payment for services rendered if one wanted to be posh about it. But he was fine calling it a bribe.

“Aw hell yeah!” Harleen’s voice came from further in the establishment, and Tim caught just the faintest hint of a smile twitching Pamela’s mouth. She tried to resist, but Tim held his ground with a decidedly innocent smile, the bag of egg sandwiches still held in offering.

Eventually Pamela sighed and held out her hand. “Fine. What identifiers do you have for it?” she relented, letting Tim set the bag of food on her palm.

“Not much honestly. The locals call it a blood blossom, but I doubt it’s a haemanthus coccineus. We don’t have a picture, but we’re told it looks like a red rose bud with black leaves,” Tim answered. He’d done his own research already while waiting for the food to be made, and that was part of the reason he didn’t feel bad for following through with the others’ idea to ask Pamela. He had a few guesses already, but it would be nice to get a second opinion.

“A rose with black leaves?” Pamela repeated, her disappointed expression becoming thoughtful. “That’s it? Nothing else?” she asked soon after, frowning deeper if possible.

“Nothing else,” Tim confirmed, both disappointed and pleased that Pamela also didn’t seem able to come up with an answer.

“Sounds made up,” Pamela answered bluntly, shifting to move back into the building. “There aren’t any roses with black leaves unless they’re mutilated. The closest you’ll get is a begonia switzerland if you’re just going by appearance.”

“Oh…. that’s what I thought too,” Tim hummed, raising a curled finger to his chin.

Pamela’s eye twitched. “Then why did you-.... Goodbye,” she stammered, then figured it wasn’t worth her time to deal with Tim further, and closed the door on him.

Tim could only snort in amusement, raising his voice for just a moment. “Thanks for the info! Enjoy the food!” he called, grinning as he turned to grapple himself back to the rooftops.

So the blood blossoms were either an extremely obscure name for some other plant, or they didn’t actually exist. And if they didn’t exist, then what had poisoned Danny? At least Dick and Damian were heading straight to the manor to follow up with Alfred about meals, and bring the tissue sample with the plant based poison to where Bruce could use their tech to better analyze it. And Barbara had already mentioned she’d meet them there, so while they might not have a good start on two of the three questions they should at least be able to figure out who these kids were exactly.

—----------

“They don’t exist,” Barbara’s conclusion about the five Phantom kids they had custody of was short, but did little to answer any questions the others had. After spending a few hours gathering her data she had decided to join the others at the manor, the three who had returned from the rescue mission, Bruce, and her now gathered in the Bat Cave by the computer. Admittedly that hadn’t been something they fully expected to hear, so there were sagging shoulders from both Dick and Tim at the announcement.

“You ran the search in all of the databases, yeah?” Tim asked, immediately trying to figure out what they had missed. Barbara was usually extremely thorough. It was hard to believe she came up with nothing on a group of five people. Especially when two of them had superhuman abilities.

“Yes, Tim,” Barbara responded quickly. “If you’ll let me continue before you try to solve the problem yourself I’ll save you some steps,” she added, getting a mildly teasing smile. When Tim relented with a mild shrug Barbara turned her chair back to the computer, pulling her reports up on the huge monitor.

“The DNA samples came up with no results. Amity Park doesn’t exist on any map. There’s no social media posts about any combination of their names. And the photo Jason sent of Jazz’s ID also has no results. It doesn’t even resemble the official driver’s license format of Illinois or any of the other states, so it’s not hard to see why the bank teller would call it a fake,” she listed, bringing up the reports from her data scouring as she mentioned them. “The only activity I can track from them is here in Gotham, starting 72 days ago. I believe that’s when they first arrived here.”

The date caused Bruce to shift, breaking out of his silence once it seemed Barbara had finished summarizing her findings and drawing a connection to a separate report he’d gotten more than a month ago. “72 days ago is when the Justice League got readings of an anomaly on the outskirts of Gotham. Investigations revealed some remains of unknown technology, but no one was there with it.”

“...What kind of anomaly?” Dick asked, tensing slightly at a thought that crossed his mind. Unknown DNA, unusable bank and ID cards, two of them claiming to be beings that were never heard of before now.

“Please don’t say multiverse breach,” Tim whined, revealing that he’d had the same thoughts as Dick.

Instead of answering them Bruce just opened a different report, having been locating it as his sons had been speaking. When the data appeared on screen both Dick and Tim let out extended groans, their forms sagging even more as Barbara chuckled softly.

“It had to be dimension garbage,” Tim whined more, squinting at the report confirming suspected multiverse breach residue in the affected area.

“That explains all the missing data,” Barbara commented, just glad to have an explanation for why all her research was coming up blank prior to the anomaly. It was because they literally had nothing on this earth before then, and not because they were some sort of geniuses that could manage such an extensive data wipe to make even her systems come up with blanks.

“That also explains why Dr. Isley was unfamiliar with the blood blossoms,” Damian added, seeming unfazed by the revelation.

“And literally everything else that was weird about them,” Tim encompassed, frustration bleeding into his tone. What kind of puzzle didn’t even have answers in this world? He felt like that was cheating.

“Do they seem aware that they are no longer in their dimension? We’re sure this wasn’t a deliberate transport?” Bruce asked, masking his growing concern for the dislocated children by suggesting they might still be hiding something.

“Please, these kids can’t hide anything that well,” Tim huffed, giving a wry smile. “The only reason they’re able to hide anything is because they’re also oblivious. Otherwise it’s way too easy to tell they’re keeping something a secret.”

Bruce only frowned more at the response, and Barbara couldn’t help add her own support of the idea that the Phantoms had no idea they weren’t even close to home. “They seemed to have had enough to deal with, I don’t think they had time to consider it. Almost 80% of their activity ties back to them looking for ectoplasm. The other 20% is just general medical care and necessities of living.”

“Ectoplasm is the stuff they said Danny needed,” Dick added unnecessarily.

“I remember,” Bruce responded, though he could also understand why the kids had such a hard time tracking down a source. Most of Gotham didn’t even believe in ghosts, and the only people he or his family knew that matched the category were Boston and Greta. “Their search led them to a Lazarus water exchange.”

“Yeah. But apparently even though it’s similar enough, the Lazarus water is ‘freaky’ and they don’t want to use it according to Danielle,” Dick confirmed, using air quotes for what the small girl had said.

“All five of them have traces of another substance I’ve never seen before that seems similar to residue from Lazarus water as well,” Barbara spoke up to add, reaching over to the computer once more as she once again had their attention. The DNA analysis reports were enlarged, and she used a screen sketch app to mark the unusual traces. “It’s most prominent in Danielle and Danny, though Danny’s levels read a lot lower. But the other three have small traces as well.”

“The one called Danielle made mention of Danny having expended a significant amount of energy, to the point his accelerated healing ability has been hindered. And that there was a lack of locations with an abundance of said energy for them to absorb,” Damian recalled, ignoring the face Tim pulled as he slowly turned to look at him.

“You made that sound way more complicated than she did,” Tim grimaced.

“Silence Drake,” Damian retorted simply.

Dick could only snicker while keeping his gaze on the reports like Bruce was doing. “This will make it easier to track some of the substance down. I’ll see if I can create a collection device to make it easier for us to get larger amounts, and work on a way to neutralize the residual plant material,” Bruce commented, already making plans for the next course of action.

“After dinner,” Dick enforced, resting his hands on the back of Bruce’s chair.

Bruce seemed to consider it, falling silent and keeping his gaze on the monitor, giving no answer other than a short grunt after a long stretch of quiet.

Dick only leaned on the chair more, pulling it back slightly. “Aaaaafter dinner, Bruce. Thirty minutes isn’t going to be that big of a loss,” he prodded.

“...Alfred put you up to this, didn’t he,” Bruce pointed out instead of responding to the request.

“He did,” Dick confirmed, admitting to being requested to make sure Bruce got at least one hearty meal before getting lost in his work once again.

Bruce considered it longer, and by then the rest of his children were already on their way back upstairs. Did he really want Alfred hassling him again? “... Very well. After dinner,” he relented, getting to his feet with a slight sigh and locking the computer screen.

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Dimension hopping confirmed~ And I just realized I now have 2 fanfics that involve dimension hopping X'D that was unintentional.

Questions for the people following/interested: because I'm not familiar with most of DC or really DP's canon and fanon content and there's so freaking much of it out there, which characters would you like to see involved? No guarantees that they'll be in if I can't figure out how to get them to fit, but I need somewhere to start researching stuff X'DD. Also there's essentially 2 goals, wake Danny up, and get Team Phantom back home. How difficult should these tasks be, and which one would people rather have more focus on?

This fic originated from a prompt I found, so I think it might be fun to kind of keep that going? A different kind of writing exercise than what I'm used to. So that's why the questions instead of me just going heheh have a cliffhanger.

Though I will say I'm still of the opinion of no romance, so please don't suggest pairings |D

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, @fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics, @honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl

[strangererotica]

INTENSITY

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Mean!Dom!Anthony Bridgerton x Reader • smut smut smut • this is my first Bridgerton fic; please be gentle with me (unless you’re Anthony Bridgerton, in which case go hard as fuck on my ass…) Includes: mean Anthony, rough sex, degradation, cum play, prostitution, oral & vaginal sex, spit

The moment you saw Anthony Bridgerton enter the room, your stomach dropped. His handsome features were sharper than usual, eyes colored black with an intensity you’d never seen before. He appeared to be in a state of rage, well past the usual harshness of attitude he normally presented.

Several of the ladies you ‘worked,’ with at the gentleman’s club flocked to Lord Bridgerton, though it was immediately clear that his interest lay elsewhere. Dispersing them with a wave of his hand, he moved through the women easily. His penetrating gaze refused to soften, growing even more severe when his eyes landed on you.

Bowing politely before him, you forced a smile to mask your anxiety. “Lord Bridgerton,” you greeted. “How good to see you a-.”

He abruptly took your arm, leading you towards the stairs. “Silence. You will not speak until I allow it-do you understand?” Lord Bridgerton’s words bit low at your ear. He guided you to the second floor, clutching you at his side. He reached for the handle of the first door you came too, yanking it open only to realize the room was currently being used. He glared at both its occupants, before pulling the door shut and dragging you to the one across from it.

When this second room proved to be unoccupied, Lord Bridgerton ushered you inside. He kicked the door closed with his foot, his hands busy loosening the white cravat around his neck. “Undress,” Lord Bridgerton ordered, speaking so low and quickly that you failed to hear him. “Very well,” he snapped, aggressively discarding his vest to the floor. Your pulse was racing, your heartbeat thrumming against Lord Bridgerton’s fingers as they slipped beneath the front of your bodice. He tugged your body into his, making you gasp. In his impatience, Lord Bridgerton had failed to notice how genuinely unnerved you were by him tonight.

The previous week had been a frustrating blur for Anthony, as he was busy interrogating interviewing women for marriage. He’d felt himself completely at the mercy of what society and his family told him he must do. Although he’d never admit it, the pressure of being Viscount Bridgerton was exhausting. It was even a bit frightening, in some ways, to have so many people depending on him. Tonight, that pressure would be removed from Anthony completely. He could transfer his nerves to someone else for awhile, allowing you to carry that burden for him.

Sinking his hand over your chest, Anthony felt your heartbeat kick rapidly against his palm. He almost pitied you in that moment, realizing what a fearsome creature he must have appeared to be downstairs. Then again, Anthony reminded himself, did the feelings of a whore really matter to him anyway? He would take what he needed from you, as usual, and move on. Just as he always did. This transaction had taken place between you countless times before. The only difference being that tonight, Anthony had come to you in a particularly dark mood.

His fingers began roughly working the laces of your bodice undone. “Since you seem to have forgotten how a whore behaves,” Anthony scolded. “I shall have to instruct you. Open your mouth.” You parted your lips obediently. Anthony’s thumb hooked between them, tugging your bottom lip downward. His eyes were like black pools, void of emotion as he spat inside your mouth. He closed his hand around your chin, prompting you to swallow, then forced your lips apart with his tongue. Anthony tasted like bourbon, the harshness of his kiss blended with the smooth flavor you’d now come to associate with him alone.

He suddenly pulled back from you, hurriedly undoing his trousers. “On your knees,” Anthony ordered. He felt ready to burst at the seams, both figuratively and literally. His cock was already leaking onto his fist as he worked himself out of his trousers. Anthony tapped the head of his cock to your cheek, satisfied with the way his precum was left smeared down the side of your face. “Why do you insist on painting your face with cosmetics, (y/n)?” Lord Bridgerton asked. “When you look so much better painted in this…?” He dragged his swollen tip along your cheek and lips, pausing there to press just slightly between them. With the head of his cock nestled at the front of your mouth, you instinctively began to nurse it lightly; but Anthony removed his cock and continued his strange, degrading little ‘art project,’ by smearing your saliva and his precum all over your face with his cock.

“Hmm,” he hummed condescendingly. “Perhaps my brother isn’t the only artist in the family?” He pressed the tip of his cock between your lips again, collecting more of your spit, and spread it along your other cheek. “Such a pretty canvas,” Lord Bridgerton observed. “I’ll certainly take great pleasure in ruining it.” He released his cock, letting his shaft rest thick and weighty against your chin. You gazed up at the gorgeous, intimidating visage of Anthony Bridgerton, grateful to see that while his words remained barbed as ever, his countenance had softened considerably. Whatever stress he’d entered the gentleman’s club with that evening, he’d apparently managed to release some of it between then and now.

You decided to test your theory by playfully inquiring “In what ways do you wish to ruin me, my lord?”

Anthony’s confident smirk returned. He lifted you onto the bed and settled between your legs, shoving your dress around your waist. Pivoting his hips over yours, Anthony rubbed his erection against your thigh. A slippery trail of precum wet your leg, the veins along his cock throbbing as he lowered himself over you. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he replied, settling his teeth over your shoulder just hard enough to sting. You winced, drawing in a sharp breath. Without giving you time to recover from the shock of his biting you, Anthony plunged his cock inside you. The air left your lungs at once, your eyes fixing on Anthony’s and the debauched look of ‘victory,’ on his face.

Regardless of how many times the viscount had made use of your ‘services,’ the impact of him entering you always felt like being split in half. Anthony was well endowed, particularly in terms of girth. You’d seen longer cocks before (not that Anthony was lacking in length) but his thickness was on another level entirely. Fitting him down your throat was almost impossible, and your ass?? That would have been unthinkable, had Anthony not spent a considerable amount of time (weeks, in fact) teasing you open with his fingers, working your tolerance up to the point you’d be able to take his cock.

Feeling his climax approaching, Anthony quickly pulled out of you and moved up your body till he was straddling your shoulders. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his cheeks flushed, black eyes wide and craving. Anthony fucked himself over you, his damp chest rising and falling with harsh breaths as the head of his cock bloomed white. Semen pulsed thick and warm onto your lips and cheeks as Anthony frantically tugged his cock over your face. Breathy, vulnerable groans escaped his lips as his orgasm consumed him. The former, fearsome lion of a man he’d behaved as earlier was now diminished to little more than a timid lamb.

Anthony collapsed backward onto the bed beside you, tilting his head to inspect his design all over your face. Semen coated your lips in a milky gloss, streaked in globs across your cheeks, pearly drops beaded on your lashes. Anthony used part of the bedsheet to dry your eyes. He then scooped his cum from your cheeks with his forefinger and fed it to you, guiding it onto your tongue. Planting a satisfied kiss on your breast, Anthony looked up at you with a humble, happy grin. You couldn’t help but chuckle, at this complete change in his character in so short a time.

“Was I that frightening?” he asked, and you nodded: “Very.”

Anthony tutted softly in self reproach, before swiping his tongue across your breast. “Then I should like to make amends for my incorrigible behavior, by apologizing,” he grinned up at you, kissing his way down your belly. “And although most apologies are spoken-.” Anthony lingered between your thighs, his breath dusting your clit, making you shiver. “-I prefer to use my tongue in more creative ways…”

[bunnyinvanilla]

bar owner price getting hit on by some woman who’s not reader pleaaaaase 🙏 (fluffy or smutty idk)(both perchance)

thank you for requesting this flower blossom!! I hope to live up to the expectations, its longer than I planned it to be, but enjoy your freshly baked pie!🍰

warnings: sugar daddy price, sugar baby fem!reader, slight sliiiight public play, jealousy, laaarge age gap! price is in his 40s and reader is 21, ringed hand! oopsie!

you were sweet and kind, yes, but oh weren’t you the jealous type.

dammed be that time you’d asked price if you could still ‘help around the bar’ when it got too busy, when you could’ve simply been sitting on his lap, read a book and be his little sugar baby in peace. you rubbed a tablecloth against the already crystal shining bottle of whatever rich liquor bottle were holding, mind and eyes completely elsewhere — the night had started pretty good, John had been busy discussing with his teammates about the next upcoming mission, and you had been dusting off the countertop, all ribboned and dolled up.

but, just as little bunnies could catch the tiniest shift in the environment and put their senses in alert, ears twitching upward, stilling in their tracks, as the night went on, you could feel something, no, someone that didn’t please your inner senses.

you carefully placed the half filled glass on the tray, eyes shifting to where John was sitting. His ringed, left hand held up his usual poison, scotch with no ice, but Simon wasn’t sitting in front of him, nor was Gaz, or Johnny.

no, an older, clearly attractive woman was — everything about her poured an uneasy feeling down your spine, the way she was practically eye-eating john up, not even trying to hide her obvious smirk, shamelessly undressing him with her eyes.

you blinked, dumbfounded, towards her. She was everything you were not, generously gifted curves wise, confident, and conventionally attractive. If you were a bunny, she was a whole panther.

she leaned herself closer, practically squeezing her chest up to him, her lips mouthing something you couldn’t quite catch from here, but John wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were focused down on his glass, the tip of his finger distractingly tracing the circular edge of the glass.

he literally owned the bar, he could simply make her leave and do you a huge favor, right?

you let out a shaky breath, feeling the familiar sensation of warm, burning roots of jealousy creep up your chest and paint your cheeks red. Your throat stung, welcoming in the feeling that almost made you want to stomp your foot on the ground like bunnies did when they were upset and offended.

you angrily picked up the tray, walking down towards the costumer who’d been waiting for his order. He was sitting a few seats away from them, and despite your crippling frustration, you smiled at him softly, placing his drink down.

“could show you a great time, big bear”

you stilled at that luring, seductive voice, your smile faltering when you heard her words. You hated the way it sounded, the way she dared to use a nickname on him. Only you could.

she winked at him, and stood up, her clothes revealing enough to leave little to the imagination. Great, you’d have to ask Johnny to get you some ice cream so could eat it while crying over yourself. You heard her heels clink distantly, towards the back of the bar, down to the bathrooms, and you straightened your back, a flustered, annoyed expression on your usual soft, smiling face.

taking the empty tray back with you, you walked past John, ready to hide yourself behind the counter and brood all night long about what had just happened — your own heels sounded louder than usual, each step trying to ease up some pent up sparks of anger,

“doll” the gruff, deep voice called from behind you, low and heavy. You stopped, still not facing him, halfway past him. You frowned, waiting a few seconds before turning towards him and start walking again,

one, two, three, four steps until you were in front of him. He was looking up at you, eyes always so impossibly intense, you could never tell what he was thinking, always so impassible, self assured and keeping his composure.

that’s when your juvenile immaturity came out. You crossed your arms together, shifting your position imperceptibly, yet little enough that he could see the light tilt of your hip. Now it was his time to stare, his eyes warm like the golden liquid he’d been drinking, taking greedily in every inch of your feminine, short uniform.

“what, sir? do you need an ashtray?” you questioned, your sweet voice tinted with an uncharacteristic sarcasm as you blinked down at him.

oh, he loved seeing you like this. A part of him got off at seeing you all pent up and flustered. His brow perked, the side of his mustache twitching up amusedly — your eyes fell onto his lap when he shifted, parting his legs and shifting his hips upwards, spreading his thighs wide. He brought his free hand down and patted his lap twice, gesturing for you to sit down.

the sight made you flush, your cheeks grew red and your belly twisted with a warm knot, you could feel your panties already growing wet, but you remained resilient for an instant. “I can’t, I’m working”

“you can if I say so” he didn’t leave any room up for questioning, muttering the words out like an order, knowing well enough you always did whatever he told you to — you were his good girl, after all.

you bit the inside of your cheek, and sighed. You were annoyed, jealous, you didn’t care how immature it seemed. You turned around, sitting yourself down into his lap.

his arms quickly crossed around your waist, pushing you closer against him. He drank quietly from his glass, eyes studying your crossed arms, your red cheeks, and pout.

that’s what made bunnies all worked up then…

“easy, pet” John chuckled, warning you so gently with a tone that made you shiver on his lap, his warm breath fanning over your neck, “eyes on you, love,” he murmured, his hand sliding from your waist all the way down your short, tight skirt, resting uninvitedly between your thighs “always.”

he was wolfishly trying to soothe you, trying to mold your mind into reassurance.

”but she doesn’t know it,” you replied, and John almost grinned at how adorably you looked and sounded, always so polite, quiet and sweet, he’d never seen you quite this annoyed.

that woman chose that exact moment to come back from the bathroom, and price could feel your body tense up against his, tense and nervous. She slowed her tracks upon seeing you all curled up on his lap, a glint of realization crossing past her and a frown decorating her face.

“shh, sweetheart,” John murmured gravelly against your ear, but you were a bundle of nerves. He sipped from his glass — eyes narrowing at the woman across the room. He slid his hand further down, slipping right underneath the hem of your skirt, brushing up and down your thigh without going up too high in the public setting.

you held your breath, your cheeks burning a bright red, and turned your head to look down at him. He set his drink down, and with an unexpected movement, he gripped your thigh and pulled you harshly closer to him. “wait, sir-“

“look at me, doll”

you did.

“who gets to have me every day, anytime she wants?” he rasped quietly, his gravel voice making you clench your thighs against his hand. His tone had been clear, he wanted you to answer him. “answer me, sweetheart.”

“i-i do” you blubbered out, arms no longer crossed, but on both sides of his legs.

“who do i take home with me, to my bed, to the back of this bar, every night?” his hand travelled higher, brushing against the hem of your panties, the cold metal of his rings against your clothed clit. You could feel a hardness underneath your lower back, and you blushed at the feeling of his erection pressed against you, almost fighting the urge to grind against it.

“me, sir…” you breathed out, your pent up frustration and jealously slowly being replaced with other feelings.

“who gets daddy like this?” he accentuated his words with a subtle buck of his hips against you, making you swallow back a whine at the feeling of his hardened, clothed length underneath the fabrics of his trousers.

“m-me, sir…”

“good girl, she wants what she cannot have,” he twisted two fingers, pressing the hard material of his rings against your panties, making you trap and bite down on your bottom lip. The thin hem of your skirt covered that act to the outsiders, hiding it from peering eyes. “can stare all she wants, daddy’s all yours, bunny”

with a swift motion, he put his hand underneath your chin, and tilted your head up towards his. “behave f’me, love, ‘aight? no need to be jealous”

you’re still pouting, a shy, annoyed bunny that was just clingy and needy, could you blame her? You nodded and he leaned back on the sofa chair, veiny, hairy hand distractingly caressing your thigh, not venturing too far.

you hadn’t even realized that the woman had left the bar, mind too focused on John’s hands and words, but before you could say something, he tapped your thigh twice. “now, get up and go to my office, need to help daddy fix what you’ve caused”