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glitch-but-ya · 3 months ago

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HIRAETH.

PAIRING: Yandere!Caleb x Blind!Reader TAGS: Disability and blindness, possessive Caleb, yandere tendencies, violence and blood, overprotective Caleb, taking advantage of a disability, SFW but contains mature themes, use of the nickname 'pip-squeak'. SUMMARY: You wore a pair of gorgeous eyes that could not aid you throughout your life. Luckily for you, your childhood companion would be the vessel of sight you always needed. And at the end of it all, you would have his warm embrace to return to. WORD COUNT: 2,775 words.

You had never known what a home was like. Not because you suffered from the lack of one, no. You had a home—a large, two-storey house with white walls and an isolated attic, or so you had been told. Your home had been inhabited by three people. You knew that, of course. As a child, you would lie on top of Grandma, press your ear against her heart, and listen to her rhythmic heartbeat. You had learned that the steady thump... thump... thump... of a person's heart was proof of their presence. Each day, you heard two sets of heartbeats in your home, belonging to the people you cherished the most.

You had been raised with piles of books engraved with odd textures, an endless supply of home tutors, and a heavy stick to aid you for the rest of your life. You remembered tracing your fingers down your first white cane, feeling the cold aluminium against your fingertips. "It will accompany you through your entire life," Grandma had said. But it hadn't. Your cane had broken two years later. It had snapped in half after you dared Caleb to play baseball with it. It had been entirely your fault, of course. You still cringed at the argument that had led to the inevitable. It had started when Caleb caught you referring to your cane as your best friend. In the end, the cane didn’t last. Neither had the bond you shared with it. When it broke, he'd promised to get you a new one. But it always took weeks. Your 'best friend' hadn't rushed to your aid during those weeks. But Caleb did.

"Can you carry me down the stairs, Caleb?" As you had grown, you had found people to be more reliable than poles or sticks. You had believed you were truly fortunate to have such a loving, accepting friend whose shoulders were always free for you to lean on. He had carried you through the roughest terrains, through the darkest of forests, without ever bearing a single crack. All the white canes you had after your first break had eventually been rendered unsuitable for bearing your weight. But Caleb had never complained. He had never asked a crumb of you when you had to rely on him to drive you to places. Never had he turned a blind eye to the constant bullying you had faced at the hands of the neighbourhood kids. Although you couldn't see, you could feel. And you had felt that you were right at home. Home had been where Caleb was. Only with him had you felt at home. With him, you had been seen, loved, and cherished.

"Where'd you get that bruise, pip-squeak?" A natural consequence of being born with a disability was having to face constant bullying. You recall the first day you'd received the white cane. That afternoon, you'd insisted on walking alone without the assistance of Grandma or Caleb. The warm sun kissed your skin as you inched along the gravel. Birds chirped with renewed fervour as if the world had applauded your confidence. Today is a great day, you thought. Not only had you received your first walking cane, but you'd also achieved a feat most normal kids could not-- you'd snuck out of your window all by yourself. Moments like these made you believe you were just a normal girl living life with a small hindrance. For the first time, you felt invincible. What you overlooked, however, was how their presence was not merely a means to protect you from tripping over your feet or getting lost in the streets. They'd also shielded you from what you couldn't see-- the ill gazes of people who wished to utilise your blindness.

It hurt a lot: the bruises. Many a time, they would flog you with your own cane, smacking it over your head and shoving you with its tip all while they guffawed and cackled as they would with an odd-looking dog. They would rub dirt into your eyes and mock you-- "What? They're useless anyway! Who cares if they hurt?" Their actions left large red stripes across your skin that would deepen into a dark purple as you limped home. Not that you could see them, of course. The cold of the evening settled in around you, causing a shiver to travel up your spine. You'd assumed it'd be dark by now. Not that it mattered in your world. But you were often told that the darkness bore nothing but cruelty. If that were true, was your world merely one of savagery and ill intent? Was it even darkness that you saw? Or do you simply see nothing? You couldn't tell. You could see neither darkness nor nothing. Were they even different?

You were blind. You couldn't see. But you could feel. You felt his anger radiating from him, causing a lump to form in your throat. All because you'd replied, "I just got bullied a little." A pregnant pause followed your confession. You were blind. You couldn't distinguish between an uncomfortable silence and a pleasant one. You couldn't decipher it from the looks on their faces, neither could you tell by the behaviour they exhibited. But you could feel the clench of his jaw, the grit of his teeth through which he forced his voice. His tone shifted-- farther from concern, farther from warmth, and he uttered a singular unsophisticated word that confirmed your doubts-- "Who?" You could hear his movements. The irk in his steps, the angry shuffle of his jacket, the creak of floorboards under his weight, and the abrupt slam of the door that left you speechless and bitter. You nudged Grandma's sleeve after analysing the silence the two of you shared. Your fingers curled around the hem of her maxi. You looked up to where you assumed she would be, and a single tear slipped down your swollen eyes. "Grandma," your fingers trembled, "Is Caleb mad at me?"

By the time you began to chase after him, it had started to rain. The downpour sliced through your skin, hampering your sense of sound. You'd ditched your white cane back at home and scurried after him as fast as you could, placing your trust in the enraged and hurried thumps of his boots against the concrete to guide you. Only for the rain to hail in and throw you off course by completely overwhelming the sound of his footsteps. Great. You'd gone too far to be able to find your way back home as well. But you'd called this upon yourself, hadn't you? They were merely the consequences of your foolish actions—the aftermath of being naïve and weak. You were not invincible. You were not a normal girl. You were blind. And you'd dared to overstep your authority. It was only natural that you paid for your actions. Your shirt clung to your chest uncomfortably, creating odd creases across your body. Your damp hair occasionally slipped into your eye. You swiped it away and tucked it behind your ear as you ran across the empty streets. If you were to find yourself under the wheels of a truck, nobody would be there to come to your aid. But that didn't matter. Because this was what you deserved. You were simply experiencing karma.

Hot tears mixed with the cold beads of rain. The mixture slid down your cheek. Some entered your mouth, leaving it saltier than it already was. Some fell to the ground, rendering it indistinguishable from the thousands of droplets that fell each second. You didn't know where you were headed. You'd followed the sound of the pavement to keep yourself off the road, but you had no idea where you were. Had you run to another city? Or had you circled back home? Earlier, you'd slithered out of Grandma's grip before she could lock you away in your room and go searching for him herself. But with you on the loose alongside Caleb, she was sure to come chasing after you as well. Had you run so fast she'd lost track of you? Perhaps. Because she wasn't coming. Judging by the absence of sound, she was nowhere near you. After half an hour of running, your knees buckled. You came to rest beside a railing. Your hands gripped onto it, subtly tracing the intricate design as you panted against it. You inched forward with its support. Your feet throbbed as you walked, and you were sure the soles of your sneakers were torn as well. Oh, well. All you'd hoped for was that Grandma would find you, miserable and soaked in the rain, and take you back home with her as she stuffed your ears with various reprimands. But you were okay with that. As long as you returned to the warmth of the fireplace by the living room window, you were content. You doubted whether you deserved that as well. Eventually, your fingers met the cold, wet metal surface of an indented sign. You traced the words—"Willow Whimsy Park." Your breath hitched in your throat, and your hands flew around in search of the place where the fence ended. You rushed in through the opening, your breaths escaping in ragged spasms. He must've been here. He must've!

"Pip-squeak?" The world stilled. The patter of raindrops against your head became insignificant when your ears caught Caleb's voice. You'd expected him to be angry, to lash out and yell for you to go away. You'd expected him to hate you. To call you weak and pathetic, as you deserved. Yet how he called out your name was none of that. It was soft. Surprisingly gentle. You treaded closer, and you broke down once you were near enough to feel his breath on your face. Tears streamed down your face, painting a sleek path down your chin. Your chest heaved as you wailed ceaselessly. Foul, ugly cries escaped from deep within your throat. You sobbed and sobbed, leaving no place for Caleb to squeeze a word in. With a burdened sigh, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your face was pressed against his chest. Despite your futile squirms, he held on tightly, his grip unrelenting. His fingers curled around your forearm a notch tighter, as if conveying his refusal to let you go in time of need. At last, you gave in. You nuzzled your face against his torso and cried your heart out. You sobbed until your throat screeched in protest. But Caleb did not move. Not a single word left his chapped lips. He simply stood there, willing to linger as long as you'd take to vent your sorrows. Even as you pounded your fists on his chest weakly, he did not complain. He simply stood, his arm coiling around you a little tighter with each sniffle. He treated you with unrelenting patience, and his gaze bore a devotion that gnawed at your skin and begged for a pathway into your soul. It was comforting. It was warm. He felt like home. When your sobs had died down, Caleb released his grip. You raised your chin. Your sleeve rubbed against your face as you wiped the remnants of your tears away. But the drenched fabric aided only in wetting your face further. You looked up at Caleb and swallowed the sobs that threatened to erupt from your throat. With a shaky voice, you cried, "Why did you leave me?!" You didn't know how, but you felt his eyes soften. The intensity of his gaze dissipated, leaving him with a gentle smile on his face. "What do you mean?"

"You were mad at me, weren't you? So you stormed off." You fumbled around before grasping his palm. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't ever sneak out ever again! I'll do all the dishes, and I'll—" Caleb cradled your face with his right hand. His thumb brushed over your cheek tenderly. You could swear, however, that his hand was far more calloused than usual. They also carried a scent that was unfamiliar to you, a scent you'd later go on to realise. But back then, that touch erased your worries, allowing you to sink into a whirlpool of warmth. It was as if he reached into your frozen conscience and brought upon it the warmest summer you encountered. "I wasn't mad." He said, his voice akin to a spring breeze. "Not at you. I stormed out to find the people that..." he spaced out, tracing a bruise under your eye. "That did this to you." You blinked, your sharp senses picking up on the harsh undertone of his voice. The emphasis left you baffled. Was the sun truly capable of such cruelty? You nuzzled into his palm to feel his marred skin graze against your cheek. Had he always hidden his anger behind the veil of your eyes? "They got away, though." His tone shifted, although unnervingly so. "I'll get them tomorrow. Let's go home, now, pip-squeak. Grandma must be worried." A smile graced your lips. Caleb returned your joy with a tap on the corner of your lip—a gesture that belonged to the two of you. He let out a hum, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. The downpour raged on. Thunder began to drum against your ears. "How did you find me without your cane? I guess we're meant to be." You giggled. Although you would've never known he truly believed what he said. Your mouth opened, "Achoo!" In a slow, deliberate movement, he interlocked your fingers with his and brought it to his side. "Let's go home. Or else, you'll catch a fever." He guided you through the entrance, looking back occasionally to ensure you didn't trip over your feet. At the entrance gate, Caleb paused, glancing over his shoulder to take one last look at the scene before him. He was relieved you couldn't see. He was relieved the boys had obeyed. If they'd as much as made a peep, his lie would be caught. What then? How could he have regained your trust? What reason did he have for the boys who were sprawled out in the mud, their faces littered with bruises he did not know he was capable of inflicting? What excuse would he propose in retaliation against your accusation—why had he frightened and 'persuaded' them into not uttering a single whimper or cry, despite their mangled states? And the worst of all was how he did not regret any of the choices he made under the shower of rain. He hadn't thought of taking back the punches that were delivered, nor did he ponder whether the consequences of his actions were too dire to endure. With each shove, with each kick, and with each crack, the lesser he began to feel. After all, he did vow to you.

"What's wrong, Caleb?" Caleb turned on his heels to face you. He leaned in, tucking a soaked strand behind your ear. "Nothing. I just wanted to let you know..." After all, he did vow to you: "I will always protect you, pip-squeak. I've made it my life mission." Caleb was grateful to the veil before your eyes. If you could see, you would have seen the sheer cruelty of this world. This world was far too pernicious for you. Blind or not, in every life, in every body, he would have covered your eyes. The darkness you'd have to endure was temporary, insignificant to the fruits of his labour. You didn't deserve a glance at the suffering that plagues your world. The storms you encounter in this world should not exist. You tilted your head. "You don't have to make up for leaving me behind. It was completely my fault!" He wrapped his hand around the back of your head. "I'm not. Well, anyway, let's find Grandma." Before he could lead the way, you leapt onto him from behind, fastening your arms around his neck. "Thank you, Caleb." He chuckled. "What for?" "For giving me a home." He ruffled your hair. His fingers latched onto your wrist, bringing them closer to his chest, right where his heart was. "As long as you hear these thumps, you will always have a home to return to."

That evening, you left the park with Caleb arm-in-arm. Perhaps, not having the ability to see wasn't that bad after all. At the very least, you did not have to cast your gaze upon the atrocities that occur past the foliage of nothingness. At the very least, you could be ignorant in bliss.

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dark-l-angel · 16 days ago

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Could you do yandere damian wayne who is now running wayne enterprises, y/n was his personal assistant but he started drugging her morning coffee to make her ill so that he can take care of her

A/N: guys something inside my chest is reacting weird to this version of damian, I think i need help or you'll probably start hearing more ramblings about him on 4am 🫠✨

Yandere CEO!Damian Wayne x Reader

You were his assistant. Now? You're something else entirely.

Your morning routine is clockwork. Open the blinds. Feed the cat. Get to Wayne Tower before 8:00. And of course, your usual: a large caramel latte waiting at your desk, piping hot, the post-it note always signed in Damian’s precise handwriting..

For you. Don’t be late.

D.W.

But lately… something’s wrong.

Your stomach’s been turning. Dizzy spells. Nausea. Cold sweats in board meetings. And every time it happens.. he’s there.

Damian Wayne, young, cold-blooded CEO of Wayne Enterprises, sharp as a knife and just as dangerous. He's infuriatingly composed, but when you're sick?

He becomes... softer. Attentive. Gentle in a way no one else ever sees.

"You’re pale again" he says, voice like silk laced with iron. "Come. I’ll drive you home."

"Damian, you don’t have t-"

"I want to."

And there’s no arguing with Damian Wayne.

You think you're overworking yourself. He insists on you taking time off. Brings you soup. Replaces your pillows with imported silk. Keeps the room cool because your skin’s been so hot lately. He even combs your hair once, fingers brushing your temple like it’s intimate.

"You don’t need to go back to work yet" he murmurs, crouched by your bedside. "The company’s running fine without you."

That should’ve been your first red flag.

You never realized he was watching your medicine cabinet. That the pills you’ve been taking were swapped. That your "illness" has been carefully curated.. a slow drip of toxins hidden in your morning latte, regulated just enough to keep you weak... and dependent.

And when you finally catch on.. when you piece together the pattern.. he doesn’t lie. He doesn’t panic.

He sits on the edge of your bed in that black-on-black tailored suit, gaze steady, voice calm:

"You kept trying to leave. You were burning yourself out. But you rest when you’re sick."

"So I made sure you'd stay."

You try to get up, but your knees fail.

And Damian catches you, as always.

"Hush, habibti. I’ll take care of everything. Just let me."

You shake your head, tears threatening.

"You poisoned me…"

"No. I saved you."

His hand curls behind your neck. Not rough. Not forceful. Just possessive.

"You’re mine. I won’t let this world eat you alive. So rest. Obey. Stay in my arms where you belong."

And as your vision dims again.. warm arms wrapping around you, breath on your temple.. you realize something chilling..

You never had a choice. Especially after everything went blank and dark..

You wake up in a silk-draped bed, hazy and weak, your head pounding like you’ve been run over by your entire to-do list. You try to sit up, but your limbs betray you.. you were in a bad position all soft and trembling.

Damian’s sitting beside the bed, dressed in his earlier tailored black suit that fits him like sin.. collar slightly undone, sleeves rolled up like he’s been busy doing something more hands-on than paperwork. His eyes, that unsettling green, scan your face with surgical precision. Your eyes scanned the room you're in... It's not your bedroom.. but his.. did you pass out that long? What he might have done with your body? How did you end up in here-...

"You’re awake" he murmurs, brushing a cool hand across your forehead. "I was starting to worry. Not that you'd ever admit you were running on fumes." He broke your thoughts.

He smiles, the kind of smile that should send chills down your spine. The kind that says he thinks he knows better than you do.

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, your voice barely a rasp. He catch on and he sat on the edge of the bed, held your body against his chest then helped you to hydrate your weak body.

He put down the bottle on the nightstand, you asked why... Why would he do such thing?

"I love you." His voice is like velvet over a knife. "You work yourself to death, darling. And I can’t stand watching you collapse. So I made sure you couldn't."

He leans in closer, brushing his lips over your temple. "You’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine."

Around you, the room is quiet. Fragrant with sandal wood and something like a manly cologne. There's no phone, no laptop. No escape. Just Damian, the billionaire obsessed with your every breath, now playing nurse and jailor in equal parts.

He spoons warm soup into your mouth later that evening, his expression soft, affectionate.. even proud. "You’ll feel better soon. Then we’ll talk about reducing your workload permanently. Maybe even working from home... here. With me."

Damian watches you, perched at the edge of the bed like a king admiring his most prized possession. His green eyes gleam under the dim golden lights of the room, every inch of him reeking of power and patience.. dangerously blended.

He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, a devil’s whisper meant only for you.

"You know..." he says, his voice low and silk-smooth, "I realized something while you were sleeping..."

"You probably would’ve never come back to work if you left again.." he murmurs, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You would have run yourself into the ground, chasing deadlines, drowning in obligations... forgetting that you were supposed to be worshipped."

He trails his fingertips down your arm, featherlight, making goosebumps rise in the wake.

"So here’s the new plan, beloved.." he purrs, like he’s offering you the keys to heaven when really he’s locking every door behind you. "You’re going to live here now. In my mansion. You're going to spend my money on your everything. Clothes, jewelry, lazy afternoons... whatever your heart desires."

He smiles, but it’s not sweet. It’s possessive. Obsessive. Dangerous.

"You'll never lift a finger again unless it's to reach for me."

You try to protest, but he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to meet his gaze.. commanding, magnetic, inescapable.

"You belong here.." he says, each word branded into your soul, slow and deliberate. "With me. Under my care. Under my control."

His hand slides to your throat, not squeezing... just resting there, a reminder. A promise.

"You just have to let me take care of you... and I’ll make sure you never have to think again."

The way he says it... it’s not a request. It’s a sentence.

And deep down, some part of you, broken and starved for tenderness, for obsession, almost wants to surrender.

Almost.. just almost.

Yet he notices the way you tense under his touch, the way your gaze flickers between fear and disbelief. In the past, the old Damian.. the boy forged in blood and sharpened in shadows... might’ve snapped at you, demanded obedience, forced your submission with the cold blade of authority.

He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, so softly it nearly undoes you. His voice lowers, warm like melted chocolate.

But THIS Damian? The man he grew into? He learned somethings far more dangerous than violence.

Patience. Tenderness. Affection.

"I know you're scared, habibti..." he says, and God, hearing him call you that in that low, reverent tone almost breaks you in half. "But you don't have to fight anymore. Not with me."

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there, breathing you in like you’re the first and last thing that ever mattered.

"You’re not a soldier.. " he murmurs against your skin. "You’re not a machine. You're mine. My woman. My heart."

The kisses start piling up.. your temple, your eyelids, your nose.. each one gentler than the last, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter under the weight of his devotion.

"You don’t have to earn anything with me" he whispers. "You just have to be."

He tucks you closer into his chest, wrapping you in his arms like a fortress of silk and steel. His heart beats steady and slow against your ear, grounding you. Safe. Impossibly loved.

And then.. his words, a velvet knife:

"I want you to live a soft life, beloved. I want your biggest worry to be whether you want pearls or diamonds that day."

A kiss to your hairline.

"I want to be the one you come home to, not the life you run away from."

He learned, over the years, that real power wasn’t in forcing loyalty. It was winning it. Making someone choose you, over and over, without a blade pressed to their throat.

And that, miss wayne, is how Damian Wayne truly became unstoppable.

Not by breaking people.. no..

But by acting so sweetly, so devastatingly, he not only win their trust And souls, but their attention as well... Just like that Arabian moral says :

"ما لم يسقط بالسيف، يسقط بالهمسة."

(What the sword could not bring down, a whisper did).

Another one so you take your Arabic dose for damian 🙂

"كلمة حلوة تفتح باباً يغلقه ألف مفتاح."

(One sweet word opens a door a thousand keys cannot).

I’d rather die than leave him. Would you?

A/N: took a little long but it was worth it but in conclusion we learned that I love damian 💕.

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jacaerysgf · 11 months ago

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Fighting words

summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds

c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread

he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁

masterlist - requests are open!!

tags: @hxtd

“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.

“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.

“theyre arrows bracken.”

“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”

He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,

“she said no.”

The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”

“she said no. Back off.”

youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.

You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.

You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.

The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”

Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.

And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.

you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.

“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.

Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.

He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.

The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.

Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.

One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.

Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.

Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.

“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.

“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”

You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.

His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.

One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.

“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.

“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.

#benjicot blackwood #bloody ben #ben blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #ben blackwood

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windixie · 2 months ago

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nerdjo x reader ⟢ real man

"... did you know that a quasar emits more energy in a second than our sun will in its entire lifetime?"

"uh... sure?"

༄.° pairing . nerd! gojo x popular! reader (f)

⤷ summary . a low grade lands you a tutor session with the nerdiest boy at your university with the help of the best wingman, your professor, who knows that gojo is your only way of improving that 59.6% in your physics class. your annoyance soon turns into admiration and maybe something else as you find yourself enjoying the late night study sessions. but what happens when the physic sessions turn into sex education?

warning ⓘ tags . (18+), porn with plot me thinks, smut, gojo will give you second hand embarrassment bless his soul, protected sex that will lead to unprotected, masturbation, praise kink, oral, p in v, cream pie. sub gojo heh. jealous gojo. perv gojo. obsessive gojo.

⤷ wc . 4k (not proofread)

a/n . this is my first actual attempt to writing good smut. never got the hang of it so hopefully this turns out good. the 59.6% is specific because that is MY current grade and I might just kms if nerdjo doesn't help me out.

a/n . 2 I enjoyed writing the friendship buildup more than the actual smut :p

waking up to an email sent by your physics professor was not the best way to start off the day.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, with your morning voice attempting to read the title of the email as your blurry eyes adjusted to the bright screen of your phone. you weren't surprised when the subject was that you are being assigned a tutor. you were aware of your current grade, but you swore you would be able to raise it up. right after partying.

your roommate, and long term friend, peaks over your shoulder as she buttoned up her pants. "yikes, I'm surprised he hasn't admitted you to a tutor earlier, haven't you had the same grade for a while now?"

you sighed knowing she was right. your grade hasn't gone up even a percentage for the past two weeks.

'meet me in class before it begins today, perhaps 10 minutes before, ill be introducing you to your tutor and we'll discuss how things will work.'

and that's how you found yourself standing in front of your teachers desk awkwardly. "he'll be here soon, he's very punctual."

you nodded in acknowledgment. you wanted to play it safe and come a few minutes earlier than the given time written on the email. '10 minutes before class'. the said class begins at 9:40. it is currently 9:28.

he was punctual alright. the moment it struck the half hour, the door swung open to reveal a tall boy- no, a really tall boy. he had white hair and blinding blue eyes behind dorky glasses. despite his nerdy look, the boy had a few facial piercings. one on his eyebrow and his lip.

that's hot.

"satoru! come in, come" your professor gestured the boy to be next to you. satoru offered a small, shy wave, which you responded with a warm smile.

"so as we all know, y/n isn't doing so well in this class." you cringed feeling your face heat up. being exposed in front of someone as smart as satoru was the ultimate humiliation.

"here's what's going to happen. there is an upcoming review test before the final. you pass that and im 99.9 percent sure that you will pass the final with enough studying. I'll leave satoru to decide how the tutoring will work, but I expect you both to meet up at least four times a week."

four times a week? four times? a week. great.

session 1.

you dragged your body into the library with your tote bag full of textbooks and practice worksheets. the library was fairly crowded with students studying for upcoming exams. you being one of them.

making your way deeper into the study area, your eyes landed on gojo who was setting up the table with his headphones plugged in. you approached him but he didn't notice you.

"satoru..?"

no answer. he was in a completely different world with the way he was humming a tune which only brought you to your last resort.

you poked his shoulder lightly which caused him to jump a little, looking over his shoulder to meet eyes with you.

"oh! hi uhm im sorry..! I didn't notice you I was just uh setting up the table. is this place okay with you? we can always pick somewhere else if your uncomfortable with being way too-"

"no no its fine with me." you interrupted his babbling which you found endearing.

"right." he chuckled before sitting down which you followed.

"alright so what exactly are you struggling with?" he asked.

what are you struggling with? "everything" you answered honestly looking at the organized textbooks- all related to physics and.. digimon?

"so.. we can start off with the basics of fundamentals of motion. such as speed and distance and maybe add in some kinematic equations. you are familiar with newtons law, right?"

you nodded as you recalled to the only thing you remembered from this god awful class.

"okay so we can skip that.. but ill still explain a little bit of it towards the end, just to make sure."

that's how you spent your first session with the boy. he's amazing at explaining, learning more from him than any past lectures. the way he is so into it you can't help but space out at the way his lips move.

"for the equations, there are a few of them, ill give you three examples then write one of each so you can practice."

your eyes fixated at the way he neatly wrote down the letters.

"so uhm.. do I multiply or-"

"you subtract this from both sides."

"got it."

this was definitely going to take a while if you couldn't even handle the basics. you handed him back the sheet where you attempted the problems.

"seems like you have a bit of difficulty deriving the equations."

you sighed. how long has it been? forty minutes? and hour?

checking your phone you were surprised to see that only 15 minutes have passed?

'just kill me at this point' you thought.

"hey hey, no phones. can't have you getting distracted, hand it over"

"I was just checking the time! don't take it away pleaseee" you begged.

"you'll be tempted to check the time every five seconds, just hand it over." you reluctantly placed it in his hand. his fingers brushed against yours and you were surprised to see how soft his were.

"lets try again. this time ill watch you solve them so I can see where you start to go wrong."

2 hours have gone by and you finally grasped how to solve the equations involving motion and acceleration.

"good job!" the praise boosted up your confidence. "only took ya thirty practice problems but you got there." he teased as he adjusted his glasses. "thanks satoru." you rolled your eyes at him.

the way you said his name went straight into his head. both of them actually.

"we should wrap it up for today"

he reached into his bag pulling out a few sheets before sliding them to you. "try and finish these by wednesday, which will be our next session. oh-" the pale boy reached for his examples. "use these for reference if you forget again."

accepting the papers, you placed them in your folder before tucking it back into your bag. "thank you, I know i'm not the easiest to teach."

"non sense. you're the first person i've tutored to actually have motivation to learn."

"you've tutored others?" you tilted your head.

"course I have. anyways, study what we've gone over today. here's my phone number-"

"youre going to have to give me back my phone in order for that" you chuckled. it felt like satorus world paused for a second as he saw your smile.

"uh right.. sorry"

it felt great to have your beautiful cellular device in the comfort of your hands.

"I usually ignore my messages.. can I give you my instagram instead?" you asked.

satoru was a bit disappointed to not be able to have your phone number, but your insta was just as good. that way he'd be able to see pictures of you.

you both exchanged users, you with your whopping 2.3k followers and him with his 40. 41 including you.

he noticed that out of the 2.3k people that follow you, you only follow around 90. he felt honored that he would be one of the lucky ones to be blessed with your follow.

"great!" satoru couldn't help the dorky grin that crept up on his face. "text me if you have any issues with the work, mkay?"

multiple sessions have passed.

you felt yourself warm up with the boy, learning more about him and his nerdy interests and the upcoming 'name as many digimon characters as you can' contest that he's pumped for explained the character book you'd see every time you met up at the library.

which you both eventually ditched after accidentally catching a couple doing... activities one shouldn't be doing in a quiet environment.

satoru couldn't help but wish that was you and him.

you both settled for a nearby cafe where he always paid for your drinks and sugary treat which he's memorized by now.

"we should go over the vocabulary today" his fingers skimmed through several papers before pulling one out that had the key to all the words you had to remember.

you were progressing and you felt confident for the review and final which were both in three months.

"here write down the words on a separate sheet and try to answer them to see which you know and which you don't."

outside of your tutor sessions, you began saying hi to each other in the hallways, exchanging small smiles in class, and late night texts.

satoru [ 10: 37 PM]

-you complete the worksheets?

you [ 10: 40 PM]

-hi! I just need to finish up the last one then im all done

satoru [ 10: 41 PM]

-thats good, mind sending me what you've done?

you [ 10 : 45 PM]

[image attached]

-im actually at a party right now..

that led to a scolding from him the next day. he couldn't care less actually no matter how many times he said to restrain yourself from partying for now because of your studies. in reality, he just didn't want any boy to see you wearing whatever revealing outfit you decided to put on.

satoru would be lying that he wouldn't feel the way his inexperienced cock would harden whenever he would see the way your skirt would ride up your thighs as you sat so prettily in front of him.

you were completely unaware of how much you affected the poor boy.

"so how'd the contest go?"

"I won obviously. named all 1400 of em." he put his hands up in victory.

you laughed at how cute you found it. him being proud over beating a bunch of kids?

"what was the price?"

"a limited edition card. super rare by the way, you have like one in a thousand chance of getting it. here! I have it on me actually."

he pulled out a card that resembled Pokemon cards which he would get annoyed when you got the two of them mixed up.

"this is the ghost bt1 diamond. you can pick one out of any Digimon of your opponent or you can delete all the Digimon if they share a name with it."

his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his interests. and you loved that about him.

"sounds cool, how much is it worth?"

"hmm I think like 300 at most."

"yeah well I remember my brother has a Pokemon card that's worth 78 grand."

"do your damn work."

as you prepared to leave, he stopped you.

"here."

he handed you the digimon card making your eyes widen.

"you're giving it to me?"

"mhm, just remembered I already have a similar card that does the exact same as this one. no need for me to have it. besides I think it would look great on your phone case."

now, whenever he takes away your phone for your study time, he can't help but smile when he looked at the card neatly placed inside the clear case with a few stickers around it.

he’d find himself late at night in the comfort of his own dorm, with his hand hesitantly palming his growing bulge at the sight of your story. the picture was of you smiling cutely at the cafe you both went at. a picture he took.

you looked gorgeous. you are gorgeous.

he doesn't remember the last time he's jerked off. maybe once in high school when his favorite cosplayer dressed up as a beloved female character of his?

pulling out his needy length, he imagined it was you. a finger grazed upon his tip smearing the pre-cum a bit as he let out a few whimpers. would you hate him if you saw him like this? all horny and pent up because of your post? or would you help him?

no matter how much he stroked himself, he just couldn't finish. he needed you.

his eyes skimmed through various websites to help his situation out.

‘how to have the best orgasm in your life’

‘best stroking methods’

‘how the female anatomy works and how to pleasure it’

‘man finishes threehu-‘

wait what was that? he scrolls back up a bit clicking on the female anatomy one. he was met with several images. diagrams showing where the most pleasurable part was for a woman.

gojo hasn’t done this much studying since his calculus exam back in elementary. who the hell let’s a seven year old solve that shit?!

by the end of the day, his brain is now stuffed with knowledge on how to pleasure you. still zero clue on how he’s ever going to bust.

2 days.

2 days until you review test and you were.. stressed to say the least. thankfully you have gone over everything from the semester and gojo made sure that you were well prepared even offering to make you a cheat sheet, allowed by the professor, to help you out during the test just in case.

"toru."

fuck. when did you begin calling him that nickname? it made gojo feel lightheaded to the point where he had to grip the end of his chair as you approached him.

"hey I was wondering if we could study at my place tonight?" you asked sweetly.

“your place..? like, where you live?”

“I hope so?” you giggled.

“y-yeah i guess but why?”

you took a seat next to him placing your bag next to your feet on the floor.

“walked past the cafe and saw that it was closed due to some renovations”

“god i hope it’s the bathroom sink. that thing sprayed me”

you both laugh at the memory of him coming out the bathroom with his hair sticking to his forehead and clothes dampened. that was the first time you’ve seen him without his glasses.

you preferred him with them on.

but you couldn’t deny that either way he still looked so handsome especially when he rolled up his now wet sleeves of his black sweater revealing veins that adorned his arms.

“I hope so. anyways I’ll text you the address later.. or actually, we can walk together if you’d like?” you offered and who was he to decline?

“sure sweetheart.”

gojo recently picked up the habit of calling you sweet names which never failed in making your stomach leap in happiness. where’s he get the sudden habit?

‘how to fluster a girl.com’

god knows where.

your house wasn’t far from the campus since you’ve been planning on attending this university ever since you were a kid due to living 20 minutes away at a walking distance.

“my parents are away at a trip so we’ll have the house to ourselves”

fuck yeah.

“they doing a business trip or..?”

“it’s their anniversary. they flew out to france and didn’t even bother inviting me” you rolled your eyes playfully making the pierced boy laugh. he recently switched out his lip piercing after his last one fell off while drinking his coffee.

he took in your house as you arrived. looking at the memories plastered on the walls. this is where you grew up..

“want anything eat?”

you.

he shook his head. “I’m alright, I ate something not long ago.” you hummed while walking upstairs, him trailing behind just to get a glimpse up your skirt seeing the pink laced panties that made him let out a low groan. his pants were uncomfortable by the time you reached your room. it was a warm environment, posters on the walls, stuffed animals on the bed. the bed he would love to fuck you in.

“s’cute” he complimented placing his bag down before he stretched out his lanky body on your bed.

his sweater slipped up a bit revealing his v line as well as his white happy trail. your breath hitched as your eyes trailed down the patch of hair before landing on the raging boner that he had. no way.

was he hard?

despite having past experience yourself, no one has ever made you finish.

gojo propped himself on both his arms. “let’s just review what I taught you at the beginning first to freshen up your memory.” you barely took in anything he said as you approached the bed as well sitting down next to him before you felt bold. you shifted sitting down on his lap instead.

satoru let out a gasp before moaning. his hands found your hips immediately. “fuck.. what are you-“ he was cut off by your subtle grinding.

“we shouldn’t..” your heart sank a bit. “you don’t want this..? I’m just trying to help you toru.”

“I know baby but I haven’t.. well I’m.. I’ve never done t-this before, god..” he mumbled embarrassed. oh so that’s what this is. he’s a virgin. “I don’t mind.. let me help you”

“please-“

“shh..” you tugged at his jeans bringing down to his knees. “You’ve never done this before?” you asked letting your acrylics tease him through his digimon boxers.

“no.. no please fuck..”

his cute whimpers went straight to your heat as you finally tugged down his boxers only to be met with the biggest cock you’ve seen. it slapped his stomach the second it was released. he was thick. the pretty pink tip was slowly turning an angry red color as he panted.

you wrapped your hand around him stroking up and down his base watching him twitch. while keeping eye contact, you let some spit fall down his cock making him moan as you used your drool as lube. his hips bucked up as he felt the warmth of your mouth around him.

“t-that’s it..”

for the first time, your lips met in a sweet and needy kiss, your hand still working wonders on him. he placed a shaking hand on your ass cupping it making sure not to break the heated kiss.

“can.. can you ride me?” the way he asked shyly made you want to ruin him even more. you nodded watching him pull off his sweater. now by all means you had zero clue that this man was built as if god made him with his own hands. you did the same, quickly undressing before he stopped you.

“please.. please keep the panties on”

“you like em?”

“fucking love them.”

after carefully placing a condom you found in your drawer on him, you guided his tip to grind just right against you. “lift up your hips a bit toru.. just move them.. back.. and forth.. good job love”

the praise didn’t help Gojos situation at all. “keep praising me..” at this point his glasses were all fogged up. your finger hooked into your panties slipping them to the side so you could slip his cock in.

“so big..” you cood

“oh god, you’re right.. fuckkk baby wait.. wait wait” he moaned filling up the room with lewd noises. the plap, plap, plap echoed. large hands found your waist helping you ride him at a quick pace.

“shit.. you’re better than I imagined.” he groaned out biting your neck sweetly. “you’ve imagined.. this? ngh!” you were surprised to see him pick up the pace. “all the time.”

gojo thought back to the website he visited frequently. his finger found your clit circling it before rubbing it repeatedly. you head fell on his shoulder as you began to shake from overstimulation. “Toru..!”

“this is where you’re weak, right? most girls have an orgasm immediately after teasing the clit”

“ngh.. nerd..!”

“so sensitive”

the raspiness in his voice was enough to make you finish. for the first time ever. gojos hips stuttered as he pulled out watching your juices spill out. he brought his fingers to his mouth tasting you. “you taste good babe”

panting, you removed the condom from his still hard length before slipping him back in.

he wasn’t even half way in before ropes of cum went inside you making gojo close his eyes letting tears of being overstimulated fall down his pretty flushed cheeks.

“be my girl..”

four things happened that day.

you came for the first time

you took away gojos virginity

you were both now dating

you didn’t study at all

but the cheat sheet did help you out a bit. after finishing up the last question, gojo walked over to the teachers desk placing it on top of it. he was the first one out of everyone to finish, like always. he looked up to where you were seated.

there you were, more focused than ever biting your nail as you answered the equations as if it was muscle memory. he was proud, smiling to himself before leaving the classroom.

toru ! [ 7: 45 AM ]

-results are in today 👀

you [ 7:46 AM]

-im nervous… i think i failed it bro im so scared toru

toru ! [ 7: 48 AM]

-I doubt that sweetheart

and he was right because the second you received back your paper with a beautiful 92% written on top of it you felt like you were in heaven. you ran towards gojo wrapping your arms around him excitedly.

“I did it! look!” you showed him your paper.

“told you. good job am proud of ya” he grinned as he once again felt his cock throb at the way you were squeezing him. “what’d you get?”

“100%”

“show off.”

he barked out a laugh before placing his hands on your hips. “we should celebrate.” he suggested. “with cake?” he hummed tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before letting his thumb rub on your cheek affectionately. “sure pretty.”

770 notes · View notes

jjackdawed · 9 months ago

Text

The Dragonets of Destiny

I Originally did this for Smaugust day 1 “from a book” except it took way too long so i’ve decided i am not doing Smaugust lol

ive always wanted to draw the dragonets and iron out my designs for them and im super happy with how this turned out. maybe ill do a pt 2 and 3 with the povs from the other arcs…?

you are welcome to use my designs as long as you credit me :)

design notes:

Coming from a blood-red egg, Clay is immune to damage from fire. Instead of becoming scarred he develops faint swirl-markings across his scales as marks of his ability to withstand intense heat. He has hazel eyes that appear more green in contrast to his warm coloring.

Tsunami is covered in scars from the many battles she’s been through, including ripped fins, burnt gills, and slashes all over her body. She offsets her worn intimidating appearance with ropes of pearls around her horns; gifts from her mom in the kingdom of the sea. After Clay she is the largest of the dragonets.

Glory is noticeably duller than most RainWings, and tends to keep her coloring in the green-blue spectrum. She too is covered in scars, but unlike the other dragonets these are not marks from battle but rather evidence of Kestrel’s hatred. Being a very humble queen, she prefers to keep her attire simple: a crown of flowers and silver hoop earrings.

Starflight wears glasses, and instead of being fully blinded by lava in the volcano he was partially blinded by the intense light which permanently damaged his eyes. He can only pick up light, dark, and the shapes of objects and other dragons. He is covered in scars along his side from the volcano, but was lucky enough to have Clay shield his head from any of the damage.

Sunny is the smallest of the five, and her bright coloring is noticeably very different from the usual pale sandy grey of most SandWing’s. Her eyes are a very very dark green, and she wears an amber teardrop earring; a gift from her mother in the kingdom of the sand as a reminder of her home. Her adopted brother Qibli has one very similar. She is noticeably the least scarred of the dragonets, as she was able to use her small size to wiggle out of battles.

#the dragonets of destiny #wofdod #wings of fire art 1 #wings of fire art #wof art #wof canon art #clay wof #tsunami wof #glory wof #starflight wof #sunny wof #the dod #mudwing #seawing #rainwing #nightwing #sandwing #wof #wings of fire

1K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 11 months ago

Text

tracked

words: 1.5k

warnings: stalker!rafe but hes so cute and sweet about it hehe, fluffy, brief drinking, slut shaming (not by rafe), protective!rafe

rafe whips out his phone the second it beeps, the familiar chime that has kelce and topper rolling their eyes.

“dude, come on. if it's some dumb mobile game, we won't judge you.” topper says, wanting to know what draws rafe to his phone every so often, interrupting whatever it is they're doing to check it, staring intensely and hiding it away from their view.

“yeah man, i once spent $40 on candy crush, no judgement.” kelce says, and even rafe looks up to give him an incredulous look.

“it's nothing.” rafe hums, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“well, it's your stroke then man.” topper gestures down at the golf ball at rafes feet.

“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods, mind still elsewhere.

“funny seeing you here, y/n.” rafe says with a grin, his arm swinging around your shoulder and tugging you into his side.

“oh my god, how do we keep ending up at the same places?” you laugh, stepping away from your friends that all look at you with a mix of jealousy and confusion, unsure why you can't see that rafe is so obviously into you.

“well, i was craving something sweet.” rafe places a hand on his chest as he looks at you. “and i guess i found it.”

“so whatcha gonna order?” you ask, aware that the line is moving fast.

“chocolate cone, and you?” rafe already knows he's going to insist on paying for whatever it is you want from the ice cream shop.

“um…” you tap your finger against your lips, rafes eyes staying on your mouth as you reply. “sprinkles flurry.”

“just sprinkles?” rafe raises his eyebrows.

“yup.” you nod, popping the p.

“damn, i really have found something sweet.”

“shit, shit, shit!” you squeal, looking at the deflated tire that you certainly can't drive on.

you groan as you pull your phone out of your pocket, not sure if you should call a tow truck at this hour of night or just a friend to pick you up.

before you can decide, your phone rings, your heart fluttering with relief when you see it's rafe.

“hey.” you answer quickly.

“hey.” you can hear the smile on rafes face. “just had a feeling i should check on you. everything okay?”

“actually my car just got a flat out on old stoney road. is there any way you can come pick me up?”

you can instantly hear rafe shift and the jingle of keys. “im on my way, stay in your car.”

you do as rafe says, staying on the phone with him until he arrives, allowing him to pull you into a hug.

“ill call a tow in the morning, okay?” rafes hand gently moves up and down your back as he leads you towards his truck.

“mkay.” you say thankfully, climbing into the passenger side. you look at rafe as he rounds the truck and gets into the driver's seat. “how do you always know when i need you?”

“i guess you could say sixth sense.” rafe says with a soft smile.

rafe watches the blue dot move on his phone, watching it turn down streets and get closer and closer to his house.

rafe closes the app and shoves his phone in his pocket once he's sure.

he quickly tidies up his room, just in case he manages to get you into his bed.

rafe manages to hurry downstairs and open the door before you even knock, your eyebrows raising in surprise.

“hi rafe!” you say quickly.

“what's up darling?” he questions, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“well-” you clear your throat. “you always check on me, and i figured i should do the same for you.” you shrug.

“oh, how sweet.” rafe steps back so you can walk into tanneyhill, shutting the door behind you and making sure to lock it now that he has precious you inside.

rafes eyes are unashamedly on your ass as you walk further into the house. one day he'll make his move, but he's too into the chase.

“so how do you know tina?” you ask, taking a sip of your strawberry margarita. you thought you would hate a blind date, but the man sitting across from you actually isn't too bad so far.

“im friends with her brother.” joshua explains, leaning back in his chair and taking an aggressive gulp of his beer.

“ahh, leroy.” you frown slightly at this. you've never been a fan of tinas family, considering her the only true good one out of the bunch.

you try not to let it affect you for the rest of the date, even though the thought is at the back of your mind during every awkward silence.

“well i had a really good time.” you tell him, heading towards your car, purposely only having one drink along with your food so you could drive yourself home from the restaurant.

“i did too, darling.” the word coming from joshuas mouth makes your nose crinkle up, realizing how you only like it when rafe says it to you.

“ill text you.” you take a step away, but joshua follows.

“don't you wanna keep the good time going?”

“oh, um…” you shake your head no. “it's not that i don't like you, but i don't do that on a first date.”

“really?” joshua hums. “i figured you'd be a slut like tina.”

“excuse-” you can't even finish your sentence before you feel his chest pressing into your back. his scent envelops you and you don't even have to turn around to know who has come to your rescue yet again.

“you can go now.” rafe simply says before placing his hands on your shoulders, guiding you towards his truck.

“shit.” you take a deep breath as you climb into his passenger side. “thank god you're always here to save me.”

“mhm.” rafe starts up his truck, it's not even a discussion on whether or not he's taking you home.

“how do you always know?” you question.

“don't worry about it.” rafe says, reaching over to pat your thigh.

“rafe.” you hum out, stepping into the shade and leaving your friends behind to tan on the front of the large boat.

“what's up?” he sits up quickly, having been watching you the entire time, loving your new bikini that shows off even more skin.

“i found this weird app on my phone.” you open up the device and hand it to him. “you're good with this stuff so.” you shrug, explaining why you're coming to him.

last time you had an issue with your screen brightness randomly turning up and down, and rafe fixed it for you.

“hm, just leave it.” rafe says, trying to keep his voice casual despite his nerves skyrocketing.

“are you sure?” you question. “it looks a little suspicious…”

“it's not, babe.” rafe throws your phone down, needing to find something to immediately distract you, knowing how your mind could spiral.

he whips his shirt off so he's in just his swim trunks. “wanna swim?”

location services are no longer transmitting. please redownload application. now showing last location.

“shit!” rafe groans. he honestly can't think of a worse notification to wake up to as he rushes out of bed, getting ready as quickly as he possibly can to jump into his truck.

rafe knocks on tinas door. he swears if her brother or joshua opens it he's going to freak out, his heart already pounding thinking about what you could be doing in there.

“rafe?” you question, surprised when he quickly tugs you into a tight hug.

“god, im glad you're alright.” rafe sighs deeply, eyes flickering up to see tina watching the two of you in the doorway.

“what happened?” you question, pulling away to look at rafe, placing your hand on his cheek to bring his eyes back down to you.

“i-” rafe begins to explain himself when tina interrupts.

“i told you that app was sending your location. now we know who was on the other end.”

you take a step back from rafe, your mind slowly putting the pieces together.

“baby, i can explain-” rafe looks like he's ready to drop to his knees and beg, but you instantly know that's not necessary.

“you could have just asked.” you say with a small chuckle as rafe looks at you in confusion.

“you could have just asked.” you say again. “for my location. i would have given it to you without you having to be all sneaky.”

“im so sorry, i never should have done it without your permission.” rafe says as tina quietly slips away, realizing this isn't something she needs to be watching.

“i forgive you for all the times you saved me.”

“so um… we're good?” rafe asks.

“not quite.” rafe is ready to apologize a million times over when you place your hands on his shoulders and push up to your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

it takes rafe a second to realize what is happening, and then his arms are around you, depending the kiss as he holds you tight to your body.

“now we're good.” you giggle as you pull away.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry

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zenless-zideblog-zero · 5 months ago

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There's something about the fact that Section 6, the Canonically strongest Faction in game, has a ton of problems and difficulties.

Asaba has a Terminal Illness with no cure that Specifically and actively hinders his ability to do his specific Job. He will straight up turn into an ethereal at some point, if he doesn't succumb to cardiac arrest or asphyxiate first because of it.

Yanagi has Oni blood in her Veins, and if she uses too much of the power available to her she's liable to become incredibly injured or just outright die because it's Hysterical Strength x1000. It also, seemingly has caused her eyes to become messed up, and can make her go blind at random.

Soukaku's older Sister died due to Illness or War (Likely a combination of both.) Her mental trauma causes her to always almost always feel the need to eat, to fill the parts of her heart that feel empty. (Also my Headcanon is that Oni Develop slower than humans - Soukaku, despite being "Older than Yanagi" is at a much lower level of Maturity in terms of lifespan and physical/mental development. So she's basically a child soldier.)

Miyabi Straight up fights demons. In her sword. And With her sword. She killed her own mother to save her from becoming an ethereal. She doesn't always understand what's socially acceptable to say in a given situation (Neurodivergent), when it's appropriate to correct someone (Neurodivergent), can't stand meetings and paperwork (That's Everyone, but Neurodivergent), Believes she only exists to do one thing, that she's only truly capable of doing one thing, or has to add the modifier of "Training" to do certain things (Very Neurodivergent) and will just disassociate in public when she begins focusing on her thoughts too much (INCREDIBLY Neurodivergent).

And we've seen people act 'Normal' and not suffer from diseases in ZZZ! Nicole is incredibly Socially and (Somewhat) Financially adept, Lycaon might struggle somewhat in casual social circumstances, but he's very much capable LITERALLY anywhere else, Anton's a bit of a meathead but he's incredibly kind and well meaning, Corin has Anxiety and Confidence issues but other than that she seems to be a fairly normal (Mentally) Sixteen year old. Ellen is straight up just a Highschooler! I could go to my local high school and find someone who acts pretty much exactly like her!

Yeah, every character has their quirks and opinions, some have traumas and issues, but Section Six is the only group you can point at anyone of them and say "That Person has something wrong with them" and no one can provide a strong counter argument (Because there's a difference between living one's best life, and living the best life they can.)

#I've been professionally diagnosed with ADHD. I claim Miyabi as one of us.#zenless zone zero #zzz #zzzero #section 6 #hoshimi miyabi #asaba harumasa #tsukishiro yanagi #zzz yanagi #zzz harumasa #zzz miyabi #soukaku #soukaku zzz

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bananayuyu · 9 months ago

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Cabin Fever [part 1]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.8k

Summary: A trip to the woods with your friends is always the highlight of your year. But sometimes, your body gets in the way of you being able to enjoy anything. Thankfully someone is there to comfort you, in just the way you need.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, reader is on her period while said fingering is occurring, reader has really severe period cramps

A/n: My period this last week was the worst one I've had in a while, and I kept thinking the whole time I wished Yunho was there to comfort me. This is for my fellow chronically ill besties <3 I hope everyone is taking good care. Also I'm thinking of making a part two, if not turning this into a whole series as I have so many ideas of where to take things. Let me know your thoughts!

Series Masterlist | Next Part -> | Read it on ao3

Every year you and your high school friends visited your favorite cabin in the woods. It was cozy and old and probably too small for the seven of you; it was perfect for a summer get away. Each year you all saved up, and when the weather became too hot to bear in the city, you booked a week in the forest. The natural hot spring tub out back, the easy trails on the mountain behind, and the trees that occasionally graced you with their delicious fruit, made it your favorite place. Each and every summer you anticipated it with a giddiness that nothing else could make you feel.

***

You lived with two of your friends from high school, in a small two bedroom house not far from the neighborhood you grew up in. You and Seonghwa each had a bedroom, and Yunho's bedroom was the basement. You wouldn't have thought living with two men would lead to the clean and orderly house you resided in, but thankfully Seonghwa was as much of a clean freak as you. You lived meticulously, due to having many health issues that had been with you your whole life.

It started when you were little, with allergies developing what felt like every week. You had to be careful with what you ate, what you drank, what medication you took. Then there were the fainting spells, which started in high school. Eventually it was understood that your blood pressure was to blame, and your weak heart. And then there were your periods. Always horrible, no matter what you did. You had been put on every type of hormonal birth control at one point or another, and nothing worked. Finally you decided it wasn't worth it anymore, the hoards of drugs and doctor's appointments, and you decided to live a simple life instead, to take things easy, to not ever push too hard. To stop trying to force your body to be normal. You didn't really have a choice in the matter; your body broke down whenever it needed to, and school and work and your social life had to be pushed aside. It made these yearly trips to the woods all the more exciting. Sometimes it was the only time you got to see the group together all year.

This year as you, Seonghwa and Yunho prepared for your trip you realized one achingly frustrating thing. Your period was due to arrive on the fourth day of the trip, if it came on time. You sighed heavily when you realized this, dragging yourself up to grab pads, tampons for the hot spring, your massive bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad, and placing them in your suitcase. You just hoped it wouldn't be too bad, if it did come during the trip. Sometimes they could be late or early, and you hoped that maybe this time your body could make things easy on you, and delay it just a bit.

That night you fell asleep on the couch, accidentally staying up reading too late. As the morning light broke through the blinds you stirred, eyes squinting at the brightness. You groggily made your way towards the bathroom, barely seeing where you were going. You almost ran right into Yunho as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, and he grabbed your shoulders to prevent you from crashing into each other.

"Good morning," he said, laughing at the state of you.

"I fell asleep on the couch," you groaned.

"Yeah I know, I saw. The book was that good?" he teased. You rolled your eyes. He didn't totally understand your obsession with reading.

"So good it almost felt like I was playing a video game, or something," you teased back.

This was the nature of your relationship with him. He was one of your closest friends by far, but you two were just so different. You worked part-time as the assistant of an accountant, and in your free time read books. He was a choreographer with a crazy schedule, and loved nothing more than gaming whenever he could. He was full of energy; you were prone to exhaustion and fainting. He needed his busy schedule, his stimulating life. You could barely handle leaving the house most of the time. But regardless of these differences your friendship blossomed. With Seonghwa it was sweeter; he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. He was usually the one who took care of you when you'd had a bad allergic reaction, or helped clean up your room when you were far too exhausted to. But Yunho had been there every time you'd had a bad fainting spell, carrying you to the hospital, staying with you overnight. He was always there for you, and made you laugh when you felt like shit. He was an invaluable part of your life, even if he didn't totally understand you.

"Ari texted the group chat late last night, did you see?" he asked you. Ari was the only other girl in the friend group, and you usually shared a room with her on your trips.

"No, what did she say?"

"She's bringing San," he said.

"Ooh, we finally get to meet him for real," you reply, lifting your eyebrows in excitement at finally meeting her new boyfriend. You'd seen pictures and talked to her about him for hours, and you couldn't wait to finally meet him in person.

"And Wooyoung is gonna bring his cousins, I think?"

"Yeah he said he's bringing Yeosang and Jongho with him this year," you reply, having just heard the news the day before while packing. "There's going to be so many of us this year, I'm not sure how we'll all sleep and everything."

"We'll figure it out when we get there," Yunho says reassuringly. Then he looks at you and chuckles. You narrow your eyes, knowing he's laughing at you. "Just go look at yourself in the mirror," he says.

You playfully shove him out of the way and make your way into the bathroom, seeing your ridiculously messy hair he was laughing at. You quickly get yourself ready for the day, knowing you all have to leave soon to pick up Ari and meet up with everyone else. When you make your way to the kitchen you see that Yunho has made you a cup of chamomile, your favorite tea. As you sip it you taste the honey he added and smile, smile at the way he seemed to read your mind. You were craving chamomile with honey today.

Seonghwa exits his room looking extremely put together in a black turtle neck and fitted black pants, his suitcase fully packed and his hair perfectly coiffed. You look down at your tank top and comfy jean shorts, and back up to him.

"You always make me look so underdressed," you say with a small pout.

"Well, you're so beautiful so you don't even have to try," he says, pulling you into a hug. A crazy thing for him to say to you, given that he's literally employed as a model. And quite successfully, at that. "Some of us have things to compensate for, clearly." He spins around, showing you his outfit and laughing at himself.

"It looks so good, but you are going to burn up in the car, Hwa," you reply.

"I'll be fine, I'll be fine," he laughs.

"He's got someone to impress, y/n, remember," Yunho interjects, handing Seonghwa the cup of coffee he made for him. Hongjoong is who he means. You giggle of the memory of them hooking up at the last summer trip, thinking they were being so sneaky when everyone knew exactly what was happening.

"How are you simultaneously so annoying and so nice," Seonghwa says to Yunho, making you all laugh.

"That's the perfect description of him," you say, shooting Yunho a smirk.

"How dare you both," Yunho replies as he makes his way down to the basement to grab his bag. He also stops by your room and grabs your suitcase, taking both down to the car and placing them in the trunk. You and Seonghwa follow after him, your tea in one hand and book in the other. You couldn't wait for a little time spent reading in the cabin.

"It's so funny how he always carries my stuff for me, like I'm some weak little thing," you say to Seonghwa.

"Well you kind of are, honey," Seonghwa says, looking at you softly. Your health issues had been flaring up again recently, and it broke his heart to see his close friend suffering so much.

"I know. It's annoying," you reply, looking away from him as you exit your house. "I just hope nothing happens while we're on the trip."

"We'll all take care of you if anything does," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you.

"Thank you," you reply as you climbed into the back seat. You make eye contact with Yunho through the rear view mirror, his look attentive and curious.

"Ready?" he asks you, and you nod, holding his gaze. Since living with him, and really even since high school, he had driven you basically everywhere. You couldn't help but love it.

***

After meeting up with everyone at Ari's apartment you split into your two cars. You, Yunho, Seonghwa, Ari and her boyfriend San would be in Yunho's car. And Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho would be in Wooyoung's. You weren't sure how having ten people in the cabin would go, but you decided not to worry. This time of year was not for dread or anxiety; it was for joy and laughter.

After spending time on the drive talking to Ari and San, you realized he was just as handsome and kind as she told you. You squeezed her arm in excitement, elated that your friend had such a wonderful new boyfriend. Yunho and Seonghwa had expressed concern when they first started dating, given that Ari's last relationship wasn't healthy. But even they seemed swayed by just a few hours with San, with his sweet smile and warm conversation. You all arrived in the highest spirits, you and Ari ditching the car to let the boys carry your things while you excitedly ran to the backyard to dip your toes in the hot spring.

"God, I'm so excited we're back," she said, grabbing your hand. "And I'm excited you're meeting San. What do you think, so far?"

"He seems wonderful. Are you happy, is he always this kind?" You look at her fondly, wanting nothing more than for her to finally experience a healthy love.

"I'm so happy dude. It's just been so smooth, so calm. It's built the way I think these things are supposed to, you know? No rushing, no fighting and making up and fighting again. None of that awful shit that I used to look for. I feel like I'm finally an adult. I guess 25 is my 18," she laughs.

"Girl I'm 25 and barely even independent from my parents. You don't need to feel bad about what's come before." You squeeze her hand, a silent message of love passing between you. "I'm so, so happy for you."

As you make your way inside Yunho calls you over to him.

"Hey, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements. We were thinking Ari and San can have the room with the actual queen bed, and the rest of us boys can sleep in the living room on the couches. There's that little bed nook in the library, would you be okay sleeping there? I know you and Ari usually shared the real bed but I figure her and San would want to sleep in the same room together," he says.

"Oh, of course. But, are all of you going to fit out here with Yeosang and Jongho along?" you ask.

"Well, I'm not sure. We'll see."

"Isn't there a pull out couch in the library?" you ask. It's no surprise you know the small room better than him.

"There is?" he asks.

"Come, let's go see." He follows you through the cabin to your favorite room, seeing the small blue couch in the corner.

"I swear this thing extends or something," you say, crouching down to try to find where to push. Eventually it gives and starts moving, surprising Yunho. When it's finally extended it takes up a lot of the room, and looks almost goofy. But it's reasonably long, definitely somewhere someone else could sleep. You look up at Yunho, assessing how tall he is and how long the bed is. "Think you could fit?" you ask.

Yunho lays himself down, his legs hanging only slightly off the end of the new bed. You go and grab a pillow from your bed nook, tucking it underneath his head.

"Well it can fit one person, for sure. I doubt any more though, unless any of the boys want to be cuddled up that close," he says.

"Seonghwa and Hongjoong?" you offer. Yunho laughs.

"You want them in here doing stuff at night right next to you?" he asks. You cringe at his suggestion.

"They wouldn't do that to me," you say, shaking you head at him.

"You never know," he says, starting to make his way out of the room. "If you really just want the room to yourself, that's okay."

"No it's totally fine. You can sleep in here, if you want to. Or Seonghwa. I'd be okay with either of you. Just let me know."

Yunho nods as you both exit, heading back to the kitchen where everyone is getting ready to make dinner. Wooyoung has nine assistants today, far more than he really needs. But it's fun, bustling around the kitchen with everyone as you prepare a big feast to celebrate the start of the vacation. Soon you see Yunho carrying your bag to the library and soon after, his own bag. And you feel something in you become warm, something low in your gut.

"What are you thinking about?" Ari asks you, seeing the distant look in your eyes.

"Huh?" you say as you turn to her, genuinely surprised.

"You looked like you were daydreaming or something."

"Oh no, just spacing out, sorry," you chuckle, not sure what had just come over you.

"Well look what I got you," she says, holding up a giant bag of your favorite cheesy crackers.

"So I guess you can read my mind or something?" you joke, grabbing the bag and her in a big hug. "Wait, wait right here. I have something for you too."

You run over to the library to grab the bracelet you made Ari last month. You still hadn't had a chance to give it to her and you couldn't wait. As you enter you see Yunho slowly unpacking his bag, setting his phone and charger on the small end table by the blue couch. You rifle through your own bag to find the small box you had packed for Ari, yourself unpacking a few things in the process. In the silence of the moment you begin to feel warm again; you look over at Yunho and soak in his messy hair, his loose clothing that makes him look so soft and comfy. You stare unabashedly, unsure of what's come over you. Usually you hate starting, hate eye contact.

"What?" is all he says, but you feel like there might be something more he wants to ask.

"So you're staying in here?"

"Yeah, Hwa wants to stay with Hongjoong out there. I figured you would rather it just be one person in here with you, more comfortable for you."

You smile and reach your arms out to him, still sat on the floor. He gives you a quizzical look, unsure what your gesture means.

"Come, give me a hug," you say. "You've been so thoughtful today."

In the short moments of your hug a silence hangs around the two of you. Yunho had never been one for serious sincerity. He definitely never knew what to say when you said things like this. When he stayed with you in the hospital and you cried in his arms, thanking him endlessly for being there with you. When your allergic reactions left you weak and groggy and you wouldn't stop telling him how much you loved him, and how much you worried he'd abandon you for being so needy and sick. You said the same to Seonghwa too, but Yunho could understand that better. It made more sense to him. When you said it to him it made his brain stop in a way that he still hadn't figured out.

***

The evening was off to a perfect start. Ari loved her bracelet, the project you had been promising to make her for months now, and everyone else loved it too. Everyone showered you with compliments and showered Wooyoung with them too, after tasting the delicious meal he had whipped up. You all gathered in the living room to eat, spreading out over the large L-shaped couches and the floor. A favorite cheesy movie was watched, a bottle of wine opened. Everyone laughed and relaxed, helping to clean up in the kitchen after the movie was over. And then to the hot spring you all went, as was tradition. You always started and ended the holiday with a group soak; attendance was mandatory.

In the heat and steam of the tub everyone opened up, even the most quiet among you. There was something about the nature of the tub that made everyone vulnerable, and for you it had always been one of the best parts of these trips. Everyone was cuddled up together given the size of the tub, and the proximity seemed to fuel the spilling of secrets. This year especially, with all ten of you, everyone was shoulder to shoulder. Ari sat on San's lap to try to save on space, and as everyone began piling in you ended up squeezed between Seonghwa and Yunho. The crowdedness felt like too much for you, and before he could make an objection, you decided to sit on Yunho's lap.

"There's not enough room in here," you said quietly to him when you felt his surprise.

"Yeah I know," he replied, letting you wrap his arms around you. You sensed some tension and hesitation in him, though.

"Should I move?" you asked, turning around to face him.

"No, no, you're fine. How else will we fit everyone?" he replied.

You turned around satisfied but then caught a smile on Mingi's face, one that seemed to be in reaction to you and Yunho. You shot him a confused look and he glanced away, clearly feeling caught in his reaction. And then you turned and saw Wooyoung eyeing you, too.

"What?" you said to him, turning your head and looking at him sideways.

"Nothing, nothing." But then his characteristic smirk formed on his lips; he had lost the fight in trying to delay it. You knew exactly what this meant.

"Oh god, don't tell me you have some huge piece of gossip to share with all of us," you said, sighing. It was always Wooyoung who started out with something, anything dramatic to share. He always broke the ice, and really, you appreciated it. Even if you made fun of him for being so obsessed with gossiping.

"Well, no, not really," he replied, looking almost shy. It didn't seem very characteristic of him. He took a deep breath and swallowed, and you all held your breath as you awaited his story.

"He has a crush," Mingi broke in, clearly not wanting to wait any longer. "It's this woman who choreographed for that music video we worked on a couple of weeks ago." Mingi and Wooyoung were backup dancers, and often worked on projects together.

"It's not just a crush, we're like kind of dating now," Wooyoung added, clearly shocking Mingi with this new information.

"Are you serious?" Mingi replied, and Wooyoung nodded his head. "Guys she's gorgeous. And so intense and smart. And isn't she like 40?"

"She's 37 Mingi, god," Woo replied, giggling and looking very pleased with himself. It had been a long time since he'd even been interested in dating, and everyone in the tub was looking surprised and amused. "We actually.... we hooked up on set one day."

"Wooyoung! Bad idea!" you replied, shocked he would even share this information. But then again, you were in the hot spring tub. And plenty of wine had been consumed.

"How did you even manage that?" Mingi laughed.

"In a trailer, you know.." Wooyoung trailed off, clearly embarrassed and nervous to tell the story. But just as always it had achieved the affect it needed to, and soon everyone was spilling their secrets, updating everyone on every funny thing that had happened in the past year. You continued to sip your wine, drinking slowly given how much of a lightweight you were. You hadn't finished your first glass still, even through the movie and dinner. Yunho kept making you drink water too, nervous that you'd become dehydrated and get sick. As the night wore on you relaxed more into his lap, more into his arms. You held his hands on your lower stomach, over that place that felt so warm earlier when you looked at him. Finally, when everyone decided to call it a night, he wrapped a towel around you both and led you through the dark path back to the house. In your tipsy state you kept repeating "shower, shower" so he led you there, running to grab your phone when you demanded it. As you stripped out of your swimsuit and took a look at yourself in the mirror you saw that happy girl you always saw here, surrounded by her favorite people and completely content. The shower was quick but felt delicious, and as you exited you felt blissful and relaxed. Until you realized you'd forgotten to bring a towel with you.

There were only two bathrooms in the cabin, one connected to the actual master bedroom with the actual queen bed, and one for everyone else to share. You couldn't walk through the house naked and dripping with so many people here, especially Wooyoung's cousins who you didn't know well. Thankfully your phone was still there on the counter where Yunho had left it, so you called him.

"Can you bring me a towel?" you asked when he answered. And then quickly, "and some clothes too, please."

"Anything else, your highness?" Yunho teased you.

"Shut up, I'm cold," you whined.

"What clothes do you want?" he asked.

"Just, those black shorts and one of my t-shirts, I don't care which. Just something comfy for sleeping in."

"No underwear?" he asked.

"Yes no underwear, I'm about to go to bed. I usually sleep naked but I have to wear clothes when we're here." You swore his breath hitched a bit.

"Be there in a moment," he replied before ending the call. In a moment he was there, knocking on the door. You opened it slowly, and saw him holding his arm out to you while dramatically facing his head the other way.

"You don't have to be so damn weird, I know you've seen plenty of naked humans in your life," you said, laughing at him.

"You make me sound like a slut," he replied.

"Maybe you are, how am I to know."

"I can't believe you of all people are calling me a slut."

"What the hell does that mean?" you ask, eyes wide.

"I know those little romance books you read are full of smut," he challenges you.

"I'm literally reading a book about history right now, thank you very much," you respond.

"Yeah the history of changing attitudes about sex. Even your non-fiction reads are horny."

You stand still for a moment, mouth agape. You didn't realize Yunho payed that much attention to the books you were reading. To know what he just said about your current book, he would have had to at least read the synopsis on the inside cover, if not a bit of the introductory chapter. You feel a little weird that he'd sneakily been perusing your book when you hadn't been looking, probably this morning while you were asleep on the couch, you guessed. But something about it felt really nice too. Like he cared to know you, cared to know about the things you liked. Even if they were so different from what he usually was into.

"Are you two good?" Seonghwa asked as he meandered down the hall, hearing the slight intensity in your tone during your conversation with Yunho. At the sound of his voice you both snapped out of it, and at seeing you naked he turned around with a quick, 'oh, sorry,' before heading back to the living room.

You dried off and dressed quickly, realizing you spent several moments naked in front of Yunho while you argued. It wasn't really an argument, more a discussion maybe? Or a confession? He admitted to knowing what kind of books you liked to read, and you hadn't denied it. None of it had to mean anything, you implored yourself. As you had said, he'd seen plenty of other people naked before. Well, at least several. It's just the trip, the glass of wine consuming your brain and making you fuzzy. But it felt like things had shifted that day.

***

As you and Yunho settled into bed you began chatting, and before you knew it, it was the early hours of the morning, the time you rarely stayed up to, the time when the world felt like a completely different place to you.

"I've missed you," you said, sighing into the comfort of the blankets and pillows beneath you.

"Me too," Yunho replied, quickly. Like the response was almost involuntary. You opened your eyes to look at him, as his words weren't what you were expecting.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy. I miss hanging out with you, just the two of us," he continued. "You're one of my favorite people on planet earth, you know that right?" It was completely out of character for him. Like the years of sincerity he'd kept inside had been begging to be let free and he finally obliged. You sat up and walked to the couch he laid on, mere steps from your bed. You leaned down next to him and hugged him, too tired to give a verbal response. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his shoulder, relaxing on top of him completely.

"Are you still tipsy?" he asked.

"No, why?" you asked. You were too tired to move your head.

"You're only this touchy when you're drunk usually."

"I don't really ever get drunk though."

"I know, I mean, this is how you used to get when you would get drunk. Like in high school, when we'd drink."

"Oh. Sorry?" you asked. You didn't really understand why he was telling you this.

"No, I like it. I was just, trying to joke around," he sighed. "Wasn't the right moment probably. Wasn't funny."

You fell into a silence again, briefly.

"So it's fine, right? I can hug you?" you asked.

"Yes, of course." To prove his point he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. "You seem happy right now, today."

"I am, these trips always make me happy," you reply.

"Your happiness means a lot to me." He seemed almost nervous to say it, like he had to work himself up to it.

"Why are you being so sappy today?" you laugh, nuzzling farther into him. He glanced at the clock on the wall, looking for an excuse.

"It's 2am, I don't know."

"Shit, it's that late? I should really get some sleep." You knew the plan for tomorrow was hiking up to the water fall, and though the hike was neither long nor strenuous, you still wanted to be well rested. "Goodnight," you said as you dragged yourself up, planting a quick peck on his cheek before crawling into your bed. Sleep enveloped you quickly, given the relaxing nature of the day and the late hour. Yunho turned himself over, trying to get comfortable on the small pull out couch. You didn't see the bright pink of his cheeks, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You had no idea you had any affect on him. A life of sickness had left you mostly uninterested in pursuing romantic affections, and you'd truly never dreamed of a long term romantic partnership with anyone. Yunho knew this, well. But he couldn't stop his feelings, no matter how hard he tried to.

***

In the morning you were woken by a bright, hot stream of sun that shined through the window, that late morning sunshine that is surprisingly warm on clear-skied days like today. With a groan you cracked open your eyes to see that Yunho had already awoken and left, the room silent. Your head felt groggy and your stomach ached a bit, and you instantly scolded yourself for drinking your first night and staying up so late. Sure, it had been fun in the moment, but you couldn't afford to make yourself feel poorly on such a special trip. You hoisted yourself up, taking a swig from your nearly empty water bottle that Yunho must have put on the side of your bed. You certainly didn't remember putting it there.

When you finally pushed yourself up to stand you felt something wet on your bed. You turned around expecting to find some spilt water, but were instead greeted with a disappointing and frustrating sight. A small streak of blood ran across the beautiful, light blue sheets. As you felt around your shorts you found a spot there too, wet and cold against your fingers. You let out a frustrated sigh, running yourself to the bathroom with a new change of underwear and shorts and a pad in hand. You desperately rinsed your shorts in the sink, your mind beginning to spin and spin. What were you going to do about the bedsheets?

As you came back into your small room you didn't notice Yunho, your focus entirely on where you could hang your shorts to dry. When he spoke you jumped back in complete shock, nearly falling over.

"You okay?" he asked, lurching forward to try to prevent you from falling. You thankfully caught yourself in time, but then your eyes wandered to your bed and you knew he'd seen.

"I don't know what I'm gonna fucking do," you started, tears forming your eyes from the embarrassment. It wasn't getting your period that made you feel so weird, it was the fact that you'd stained the nice bedsheets at the nice cabin you and your friends were renting, and it was only the second day.

"Well, what do you need? I'm sure we can get that stain out of the sheets," Yunho offered, hoping it would make you feel better.

"We? They have my blood on them," you responding, trembling. Why were you so worked up, what the hell had gotten into you? Your own anxiety at the situation shocked you and Yunho both.

"It's just blood, y/n. And it's like barely anything." Yunho grabbed your upper arms to steady you, worried your trembling would land you in a heap on the floor. And then suddenly, a horrible cramp stabbed its way through your abdomen. You immediately groaned and grabbed your side, leaning against one of the bookshelves to support yourself.

"Fuck, I need my Tylenol," you breathed out, trying to calm yourself. It felt like your entire body was collapsing on you in an instant. And your period had only just started early this morning, maybe only a few hours ago from the looks of it.

Yunho grabbed two Tylenol and and opened your water bottle, offering you both one after the other. He had seen Seonghwa do this many times and he hoped he was doing it right. You quickly swallowed the pills and took a deep breath, worried you wouldn't be able to join everyone for the hike that day. A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, wanting to push down your feelings of discomfort.

"I just need to wait until this kicks in and I'll be okay," you said, hoping it sounded convincing. Hoping it was true.

"Let me clean your sheet, then," Yunho said, leading you down to lay on the pull out couch.

"Do you even know how to clean out blood?" you asked, shoving your face into his pillow. It smelled so good and suddenly you felt warm again, this time through your whole body.

"I was gonna ask Ari about it," he said. "If it's okay for me to tell her."

"Ask Hwa for help too, he knows," you replied. With a sigh you wrapped yourself tightly in his blanket, hiding your face. Everything that had happened this morning was so frustrating, and you couldn't stop feeling angry at your body for always ruining your plans.

Remarkably, twenty minutes later you did feel a lot better. No more severe jabs of pain had come, and once you got some food in you and washed your face, you felt ready for the day. Everyone packed their bathing suits for the falls and put on their good shoes for hiking, and with snacks and waters in hand you made your way up to the edge of the forest to find the start of the trail.

You walked arm in arm with Ari, picking flowers off the side of the path to put in each other's hair. The blossoms in this area were beautiful during this time of year, and the trees made the trail quiet and calm and cool. When you ran out of space in Ari's hair you started putting the flowers in Seonghwa and Hongjoong's too, the only other two who walked the trail as slowly as you and Ari did. Even with the slow pace you began to feel queasy about half way up, and when you sat down, unable to take it anymore, Seonghwa called out to Yunho. He came and crouched down in front of you, telling you to climb onto his back, and carried you the rest of the way, the gentle breeze blowing his hair into your face and tickling your nose. It was a bit longer now than it had been in a while, looking almost like a shaggy mullet. As it brushed across your face you realized you thought it looked really good on him, how it complimented his long neck and round cheeks. You shook your head trying to stir yourself out of your daydream. You had always recognized he was attractive, but you didn't like him like that, never had. Why did you care how well his hairstyle complimented his face?

At the falls you sat on a long log at the edge of the small lake, not feeling up to swimming and playing with everyone else. Seonghwa could sense it easily, and after Yunho asked for his help that morning cleaning your sheets he knew why. He sat with you, not bothering to put on his suit either. He had wanted to talk to you anyway, wanted to spend a moment alone. These trips were always fun but it was hard to get one on one time with anyone.

"You okay?" he asked as you watched the others playing in the water, Yunho and Mingi wrestling each other for an inflatable ball. It seemed like they were all playing some sort of water polo from the looks of things.

"Yeah, yeah. Just my period. How are you?" you asked turning to him, seeing the conflict behind his eyes.

"I'm... I'm fucking spiraling, girl." He shook his head and dropped it onto your shoulder, letting out a massive sigh.

"Why, cause of that guy?" you asked, looking in the direction of Hongjoong. Seonghwa just nodded. In the brilliance of the mid day sun Hongjoong looked like he was shining, his tattoos standing out starkly against his pale skin. The ball was in his hand and San lunged for him, and he threw it up just in time as they crashed into each other, a laughing mess. As the two came up for air San was repeatedly apologizing, the both of them being yelled at by the other players to get back in the game. After some more moments of play Hongjoong grabbed onto a rock on the side of the small lake underneath the waterfall, pulling himself up to grab a bottle of water a few feet away. As he pulled himself up you saw the ripple of his chest and abdomen.

"Damn, he's like really ripped," you said, smiling down at Seonghwa.

"Don't say shit like that to me," he groaned into your shoulder. "You're just making this worse."

"What's wrong? Why are you spiraling?" you asked him.

"Dude, I like him a lot. Like a lot a lot." Seonghwa's hand came up to his face, a small whimper escaping his lips. You knew he was on the verge of crying.

"Come here," you said, turning towards him to give him a proper hug. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Not if he doesn't like me back," Seonghwa replied.

"He obviously likes you back, what do you mean?"

"I'm just, I just- I don't know what's going to happen. When we all go back to the city. When we're here we're all over each other but then real life comes and I barely see him. I thought I was over it. But clearly not." Soft tears fall from his eyes, down his cheeks and onto the dirt of the forest floor.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry," you replied, rubbing your hand up and down his back to comfort him. "You've got to talk to him about it."

"I know, I know, I just." He sighed. "I know I need to, and it's gonna be awkward as hell but I just need to."

"You can do it, I know you can," you said, squeezing him tightly. "Crushes are the fucking worst, aren't they?"

Seonghwa laughed as you separated, wiping the final tears from his cheeks and sighing more freely. He knew you'd always be there for him, no matter what happened. You didn't need to say it now. And you'd already discussed how it might be awkward for the group if they dated and then broke up. Last year, after your last cabin trip, it was discussed. Even with Yunho. You all agreed that Hwa should do what he wanted, and not worry about everyone else in the group. You were all adults now, and he didn't need to torture himself just to save everyone else's feelings. But it seemed he had tortured himself this last year, anyway. You had thought he maybe was over Hongjoong, that it was just a little fling at the cabin that year. But now you saw that wasn't true.

***

Back at the cabin Wooyoung made another delicious meal, and everyone gathered around the table in the living room for some charades. You took more Tylenol with dinner, your cramps having returned in full force once you made it back to your home base. All through dinner and games you tried to put on a smile, tried to get distracted in the fun. But it wasn't working. As soon as you finished your food you excused yourself, cleaned your dishes and then made your way to your room. You changed your pad for what felt like the fourth time that hour, then plugged your heating pad into the wall as you readied your bed. It was maybe only seven or eight in the evening, but you couldn't take it any longer. And your trusty Tylenol didn't seem to be working well tonight.

After some time resting in bed you heard the door open. Turning your head you saw Yunho walking in with a steaming cup of tea, gingerly handing it over to you to grab.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. The gentle light from the lamp in the corner made his eyes look soft and shiny. He looked down at you with concern, his eyes locked on yours.

"I'm okay," you managed, trying hard not to wince obviously at the pain that had just seared through you.

"I thought, some tea might help. I don't know," he said, his cheeks and ears going every so slightly crimson.

"It does, it's very soothing. Thank you, Yuyu," you said, his favorite nickname rolling off your tongue. Another streak of pain runs through you and you can't stop your face from scrunching up in pain, making Yunho's heart sink.

"What can we do, what makes it better?" he asked.

"There's not much, really, other than what I've done. I took my Tylenol, I've been drinking water, my heating pad, this tea..." You trailed off, smiling for a second at the only other method you know to help alleviate the cramps a bit.

"What, is there something else?" Yunho asked.

"No, well, not really. Basically, at home sometimes if my cramps are really bad it actually helps to like, you know, masturbate. Like it doesn't even necessarily feel super sexual, it just seems to help the muscles down there like relax, when they're all tight and like spasming and stuff." You quickly took a sip of your tea, suddenly noticing your heart rate had sky rocketed. "Obviously I can't do that here, so like it's not an option right now but, yeah, that just, uh, came to my mind."

"You can do that here, if it would help," Yunho replied, fascinated by your rambling. You really didn't get that way often, and he thought it was funny that this was the topic that made you this way.

"No, stop. Plus, I don't even have my tools or anything," you blurted out, suddenly wishing you hadn't.

"Tools?" he asked.

"You know, like, vibrator, dildo, et cetera," you replied, looking at him mildly mortified.

"Ah, I see," he replied with a simple nod of his head. "You don't have to be so nervous talking to me about this. I literally saw you naked last night. Plus, I swear I've heard you and Hwa talking about this kind of stuff a lot?"

Your body fluttered at his admission that he looked at your naked body, and suddenly you felt flushed and flustered. "It's different with him," you said, not meaning to sound so pissed.

"Why, cause he's gay and I'm not?" Yunho asked. He really was genuinely curious.

"Yeah, I guess, I don't know. Yunho, I can't do this right now. I feel like shit." Tears welled in your eyes at all of the conflicting feelings you were having, and you just wanted everything to stop.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he replied, his tone softer. He came over to stroke his hand through your hair, hoping it would distract you from your pain. "I just want to make you feel better."

"There's not really much to do, I just have to bear it. First day is always the worst. Go, have fun with everyone. I don't want this to ruin your evening along with mine."

With a final stroke of your hair Yunho stood, and repeating your action from the night before, leaned down and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Feel better," he said. This time he saw the color come to your cheeks, and your shy smile as your turned your head away from him.

***

When he reentered your room it was dark, only the light from the moon illuminating the floor. Your heating pad was on the floor, and as he walked towards you it looked like you were asleep; your eyes were closed, breaths were steady and you were curled up on your side with your blanket tucked high into your neck.

He settled down himself, trying his best to be silent. The pull out couch wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, if he was honest. But he really liked sleeping with you in here, and he was thankful you had let him. He had wanted to ask you straight away, when you showed him the pull out couch. But he treaded lightly, not wanting to push anything.

After a few moments spent responding to texts he finally settled into bed, curling up himself. He heard you shifting around slightly but figured you were just dreaming. Same with the changes in breath he swore he heard. He pleaded with himself to stop worrying and just let you be. But then, he heard a sniffle. Then another. And finally a small whimper, unmistakeable.

"Y/n, you're awake aren't you?" he asked, his voice low. All you could do was let out a groan in response. On instinct Yunho's body shot up, and within a second he was at the side of your bed peering down at you. "Hey, look at me."

You turned over slowly, the pain of your abdomen making it hard for you to move. You looked up at him and he caught a glimpse of your tear stained cheek, your blood shoot eyes and your puffy face. You had been crying, silently, for a while.

"Why did you turn off your heating pad?" he asked you.

"I need to sleep," you squeaked out, sniffling.

"But you're in pain," he said, resting his hand on your cheek. "Can I turn it back on for you?" You nod your head, feeling exasperated and desperate for relief.

"Are you sure there's nothing else that would help? What if I rubbed your back?" Yunho asked, as desperate for your pain to end as you were.

"That might help," you manage, closing your eyes and trying to take in the relief of your heating pad being back on.

Yunho crawls behind you on the bed, and slowly starts massaging you back, focusing his movements on your low back and side that you always seemed to grab onto. His hands feel searingly hot on your body, even with your thin shirt in between, and you begin to tremble uncontrollably.

"Sorry, I'm so cold," you tell him. "And I didn't bring anything warm to wear cause I'm stupid and assumed it would be hot out here."

"Hey, hey, stop that. You are not stupid," he replies. You feel him pull away for a second. "Here, sit up," he says as he reaches his arms out to help you. Before you know it you're being enveloped in the feeling of his hoodie that he just took off; it's warm and smells sweet. He settles back behind you, hands under the hoodie but still over your shirt as he continues to massage you gently. He can feel how tight the muscles in your back and side are, and he can't imagine how awful everything feels inside.

With his hoodie on and his hands on your back you feel like you're surrounded by him, and you aren't ready for the way it makes you feel. You're still groggy but you feel more grounded, and your body feels tingly and alive. It makes the pain almost more present, but it also makes everything else so clear, like the way his strong hands move along your side and the way the hoodie smells better than anything. Your body aches, even your legs, but it's your throbbing pussy that catches you off guard, the way his smell makes you want to open up and be taken.

All at once you realize the dilemma you are in. Being horny on your period wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, but now you were in a bed, horny on your period with a beautiful man, one who clearly loves you and wants nothing more than to make you feel better. You sigh, putting a hand on his to stop his movements, and you roll over to face him. His perfect face is inches from yours and you can't bear it, instead moving yourself down to bury your face in his chest. Your legs intertwine as you grab onto him, the two of you cuddling closer than you have in a very long time. He reaches his arm around you to keep rubbing your back, nuzzling his face into your hair. He's never told you, but he loves the smell of your hair so much. You use an unscented shampoo, due to your sensitivities. So he knows it's just your smell. And fuck it makes him feel creepy, but he's thankful every time you hug him and he gets a moment to take in that smell. Now, as always, he's fighting with himself to not get hard.

Your sighs become deeper as he continues to rub, and he reaches his hand under your shirt, testing the waters. You sigh blissfully at the skin to skin contact, his hand making your skin feel alive. As he keeps rubbing your head falls back, your body going nearly slack at how good it feels. You don't even realize for a moment but you've started moving your hips, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh that sits in between your legs. Your breath deepens and Yunho can't believe what he's seeing, his head swimming with desire as he watches your face, hears your soft sounds. A surge of pride washes through him at seeing how good you are feeling. "Baby," the word slips out of his mouth and you open your eyes, met with his large pupils and full pink lips.

"Kiss me," you whisper, opening your lips to let him in. He doesn't hesitate a moment, and suddenly your met with plush softness and his warm tongue as it brushes ever so slightly across yours. The feeling is intoxicating, igniting something in you that you hadn't felt in a long time. Your buck your hips against his leg harder, almost painfully, but it feels necessary. Your pussy is throbbing harder now, harder than you thought was really possible for you. You deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider and sliding your tongue over his, moaning at the way it makes your clit feel. You need more, need something inside you soothing the aching muscles of your cunt, but you don't want to break the perfection of the kiss. You break away for a second, whimpering and throwing your head back in pained bliss. When your lips make contact again your hands are under his shirt and grabbing onto him, desperation dictating your every move.

"Please, can I touch you? Can I make you feel better?" he's asking, and his voice feels so good in your ear it's almost like you're on another planet.

"I'm bloody," you cry softly, the reality of the situation still not entirely escaping you.

"You really think I care about that?" he asks you, his hand coming up to brush along your cheek. You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to let him take care of you. Another wave of pain strikes through you and you whimper, grabbing your side again. Yunho brushes over it, kissing you gently on the cheek. More tears form in your eyes, the pain not subsiding this time. You begin to cry, your body shaking as you do. You don't know what else to do.

"Please help me," you plead out, still shaking.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks, moving his hand down, now rubbing over your hip and upper thigh. The closer his hand gets to your core the more needy you feel, and you whine and buck your hips into him instead of responding.

"Baby please use your words, I don't want to hurt you," Yunho begs you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Inside, please. But be gentle, the muscles are so tight," you say with a pout, making Yunho's head spin.

"Wait a sec," he says, moving off your bed to grab a towel from his bag. He places it down next to you and then begins removing your shorts and panties, one at a time. He's slow and steady in his movements, which makes it feel all the more intimate. Once they are off he gently moves you onto the towel and then slowly spreads your legs, massaging your thighs as the muscles there are tight as well. Your short frame dwarfed in his hoodie is maybe the cutest thing he's ever seen, and the look of desperation on your face is maybe the hottest.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and his hands oh so close to where you need them. You nod, spreading your legs even more in an invitation. Slowly he makes his way up, gently brushing his hand over your exposed lips, hoping not to shock you with the contact. Once you've settled into his touch he finally starts circling your entrance, making you mewl in anticipation. He sinks one finger in and immediately you groan in relief, already feeling so full. He can't believe how tight you are, can't believe that only one finger can fit. He begins moving slowly, as gently as he can, stroking up and down and finding that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your body immediately starts feeling better, the muscles in your core finally having something to squeeze onto. Your pussy feels warm and perfect and he desperately wants to see you come undone, on his fingers, on his cock. As you relax into his touch he feels your walls finally open up a bit, and slowly he pulls back, this time pushing two fingers in.

The wave of pleasure is instant, filling your low belly with sparkly warmth. You begin to rock yourself onto his fingers too, desperate for a bit more. He starts moving with a bit more force, still holding back and scared to hurt you. It's just the right amount of speed and pressure and you find your mind drifting, everything around you feeling warm and tingly and soft. You don't pay attention to your sounds; you don't care. Finally after your terrible day of pain he's taking care of you, and you just relax and let your body take control. Your high is building, oh so slowly. You can feel it in your legs all the way to your toes, the sparklers dancing down your body. Yunho's own breathing deepens as you start to moan, his body reacting to your sounds of pleasure. He needs desperately to make you come, to make you feel good. But he can feel your body resisting, ever so slightly.

"Baby, relax, relax if you can," he coos down at you, stroking his free hand over your thigh muscles that still feel tight. "Just focus on what feels good."

Your mind goes to his long fingers, to how deep they are inside you, how perfect they feel. The pressure in the perfect spots, making your entire body loose and happy. Suddenly he moves his free hand up, his thumb stroking gently over your clit. You moan loudly, all of your muscles finally releasing, and suddenly the feeling builds out of nowhere, from your fingertips and your toes and the top of your head, surging towards your center. You come, gently at first and then harder as Yunho continued to stroke you, intense pleasure rolling over you. It takes a long time for you to fully ride it out, your whole body processing what just happened. Finally your head feels clear and settled, your body no longer achey.

In the moonlight Yunho cleans you up, kissing you and whispering, 'I'll be right back.' After cleaning his hand and helping you back into your panties and shorts, he wraps himself around you, kissing your cheek and your exposed neck and relishing the relaxed state of your body. You are out before you know it, his warmth sedating.

***

A light storm rolled over the mountain in the night, covering the sky in gentle clouds. Without the brightness of the sun to wake you, you and Yunho both slept in, your bodies wanting nothing other than rest and each other's company. In the later hours of the morning Seonghwa became concerned, worried that you weren't doing well. When you left dinner early the night before he worried too, but when Yunho checked on you and returned assuring him that you were fine, he had let it go. He never wanted you to feel bothered, like he was keeping too close of an eye on you. You were your own person and capable of asking for what you needed. He knew that.

But when the time reached 11am he couldn't stop himself. It was just weird, given how early you had gone to bed, and the fact that you were normally an early riser. Gently he opened the door to the library, feeling mildly awkward. He wasn't sure what he would be greeted with, thought he did have a few ideas. He shook his head trying to brush his suspicions away. He knew if they were really true, you both would have told him.

"Y/n," he called from the open door, not seeing Yunho on the couch. Your body was hidden by the nook in the wall you slept in, forcing him to walk more into the room. You groaned at the sound, coming up from such a deep state of sleep. You didn't realize where you were, didn't realize Yunho was still cuddling you. As you went to stretch you accidentally hit him, waking him up with a jolt.

"Fuck, sorry," you said in a groggy voice, laughing. He instantly wrapped around you tightly, his mind not totally awake. As he squeezed you tight you let out a squeak, not expecting it. Neither of you realized Seonghwa was right there.

"So I'm guessing you're both okay?" Seonghwa said, and your brain finally registered it. You looked up at him in shock, feeling suddenly exposed. You nodded, trying not to be awkward. What did it matter really, that Yunho was sleeping in the same bed as you?

"I'm feeling better," you replied. "Got a lot of sleep."

"Sure," Seonghwa chuckled, looking between the two of you.

"Hwa! Go away!" you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Yunho remained uncharacteristically quiet behind you, but his arms didn't leave you for a second.

"Okay I will. Just glad you're alive," he chuckled again, making his way out of the room.

You shoved your face in your pillow, pushing yourself back further into Yunho's embrace.

You definitely had some explaining to do.

***

Next Part ->

#ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez smut

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enidette · 8 months ago

Text

HEAVEN BESIDE YOU

warnings :: both are 18+, no real d/s dynamics, kinda fluffy first time smut stuff, riding, unprotected sex (ill advised in an apocalypse but yolo)

carl grimes x fem!reader

carl remembers the first time he spoke to you. you lived in alexandria before he did, but had a similar backstory. you lived out there with walkers for years before you were welcomed into these walls. you caught his interest immediately, but the fact you stuck to yourself so much made it difficult for him to even learn your name.

that only piqued his interest more.

he would look for you, especially on watch shifts. he’d follow even, never getting caught. or so he’d thought. until one day he followed you out to the woods, hiding behind trees as you walked. you took a different path this time, leading him to a clearing. a large piece of land with an old, broke down car in the middle.

he watches you go further and further from his hiding spot, eventually deciding to go home when you turn around with a confused expression. your gaze finds his and he stands up straight, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights

“you’re not coming?” your voice had genuine curiosity, making him quirk a brow at you. he emerges from the trees but doesn’t try getting closer.

“what?”

you let out a short laugh, digging in your bag before tossing him a comic you’d find on one of your runs. he watches you turn back around and head towards the car, following you quickly this time.

“you think i haven’t noticed you, cowboy?” he grimaces at the nickname, looking at the comic in his hands instead of you. “i’ve noticed you like reading those.” you grab the car door that’s merely leaning on the car, moving it enough for the both of you to get in.

carl huffs, sliding into the backseat with you and moving the door back in place. “i’m surprised you noticed anything about me. you keep to yourself so much.” you nod at him, head turned facing the dusty windshield.

“i know a bit about everyone,” you turn to him a nudge him with your shoulder. “i could learn more about you if you’d let me.”

ever since, that car had become you and carl’s “spot”. somewhere you both would meet up to just be teenagers again, not ones stuck in the apocalypse. you had both grown so close so quickly, it was hard for carl to not see you in a different light.

it didn’t help that you seemed to treat him differently than everyone else. that you always wanted to know more about him. you remembered the things he liked and he’s not blind either, you’re very attractive.

he found himself testing the waters more and more. doing his best to use the little flirting he’s picked up over the years on you. it usually backfires, until one day the two of you are in the backseat of your abandoned car. you’re on one side and he’s on the other.

his comic is in front of his face but his eyes are peaking over it at you. you look focused as you read, popping candies you had both found in your mouth every once and a while. he sees how your skin is slightly glistening with sweat from the virginian summer heat.

he swallows thickly, trying to turn his focus back to his comic when he hears your laughter.

“you’re not exactly smooth, grimes,” you look up at him through your lashes with a small teasing smile. his mouth falls open a bit before turning into a flustered grin. he shakes his head and throws his comic down.

his breathing picks up a bit as he thinks about what to say next. “seemed i was every other time.” you quirk a brow at him, laying your comic down and sitting properly in front of him.

“oh no, grimes. i’ve caught you checking me out,” his face goes hot at your bold statement, embarrassed at how obvious he had been. not like he had much experience in these situations to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just adjusts himself in the seat so he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. his eyes avoiding yours that began shamelessly raking up and down his body. your hand goes to his thigh and he tenses up at the sudden contact, unaware of what to do next.

you pause at his reaction, “do you wanna just.. pretend this didn’t happen?” your hand starts to retract when he grabs it, just holding it in his. he looks down at your interlocked hands and just shakes his head. his eye flickers up to yours before going to your lips. he instinctively leans in a bit but stops halfway. the only sound in your ears were the nervous breaths the both of you let out.

you lean your head towards him, the tips of your noses touching. carl tenses at the unfamiliar contact, but doesn’t pull away. “do you wanna kiss me?” your question has him nodding, he didn’t even trust his voice in a situation like this.

you tilt your head up a little, leaning in all the way. your eyes flutter shut when your lips meet and it’s obvious you’re both inexperienced. you awkwardly bring a hand to the back of his head, playing with his hair as you attempt to deepen the kiss.

his hands find your waist, but the odd position has you hesitantly straddling his lap. “is this alright?” you mutter under your breath. the sudden closeness due to how pressed against him you were because of the small carapace hit him like a truck.

his eye raked over your body, mouth a little agape as he nods. you lean back in and the kiss is a little needier, messier. teeth clashing and heavy breaths mixing. an involuntary whimper slips out of his mouth when you grind against him, causing you to pull away and lean towards his ear.

“you make pretty noises, pretty boy.” he shuts his eye at the name, sucking in breaths harsher and harsher the more friction you provided. he had imagined this more times than he’d like to admit.

but it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks in the rusted-window sunlight.

he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and reattaches your lips. the rocking of your hips becomes quicker and needier and his hands are digging into your hips. you pull away again, placing your hands on his chest before letting them wander. they trace down his abdomen before landing at the waistband of his jeans.

you look up at him quizzically, the two of you too embarrassed to speak. he nods and you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he huffs a laugh at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.

you whimper at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. you can’t help but stare at him, his hair framing the art that is his face, his complex scar he’s so ashamed of hidden from your view.

all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eye raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly.

your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.

carl leans back, opening his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a strangled moan. you can tell he’s close by how his hips messily snap up into yours. you stop your movements, causing carl to whine at the loss of pleasure. you lock your lips with his and bring your hand up to wrap around his cock.

you lead his hand down and his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.

your heavy breaths are the only sound that fill the car until your giggles erupt. “we should head back to alexandria and shower?” carl sighs and shakes his head, tugging your body back down into his,

“later, stay with me.”

taglist :: @carlslvr @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 3 months ago

Note

mc messing with sebastian when they are Professor Black, I need it, please. I image mc going Mr. Sallow I've heard you and our new fifth year are sneaking out together. I hope nothing improper is happening. I wouldn’t wish to have to oversee a wedding during my time as headmaster.

Polyjuice Potion | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Part One

Read Part Two →

BAHAHAHAH I STARTED WORKING ON THIS IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE THIS IS HILARIOUS, THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

Words: ~2,100

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Humor

The Polyjuice Potion had worked—perhaps a little too well.

You examined your reflection in the polished surface of a nearby suit of armor, recognizing yourself as Phineas Nigellus Black, the ever-ill-tempered, egotistical headmaster of Hogwarts. The pinched expression, the stiff posture, the perpetual air of disdain—it was all there. Even the scent of expensive cologne and the faintest trace of ink clung to the borrowed robes.

A smirk curled at your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

With an exaggerated gait befitting your new persona, you made your way through the halls, relishing the way students shrank back at your approach. Their hushed whispers and wary glances only fed your growing amusement.

The plan had been simple: borrow the headmaster’s form, strut around the castle unchecked, and slip into the Restricted Section of the library to retrieve a book you and Sebastian needed for your latest round of mischief. But when you happened to spot him lounging against a pillar in the Transfiguration Courtyard, casually chatting with a nervous-looking first-year, an even better idea formed in your mind.

You and Sebastian were newly courting, a fact that thrilled and terrified you in equal measure. There had always been something between you—something charged, something exhilarating—but now? Now your nightly post-curfew meetings had tipped over into the territory of... inappropriate. From late-night rendezvous in the Undercroft to the hours spent whispering in hushed tones behind stacks of books and the absolutely improper things he had said to you just last night beneath the Forbidden Forest’s canopy, it was a miracle you hadn’t already been caught.

And seeing him now, with your identity hidden, provided the perfect opportunity to push his buttons—and perhaps, make him think you had been caught in the act, after all.

With deliberate, booming steps, you approached, clearing your throat with all the authority you could muster.

“Mr. Sallow.”

Sebastian stiffened immediately, snapping to attention. The first-year beside him went rigid, then bolted without a word, leaving Sebastian standing alone, blinking up at you—well, at Professor Black—with rapidly dawning concern.

“Professor,” he greeted, schooling his features into careful neutrality.

You clasped your hands behind your back, surveying him with the kind of imperious air you imagined the real headmaster would use. “I have been informed of certain… late-night escapades involving you and our new fifth-year student.”

Sebastian’s expression flickered—so fast that most wouldn’t have caught it. A tightening of his jaw. A twitch of his fingers.

But you did.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” he said smoothly, ever the picture of a model student.

“Oh, don’t be coy, Mr. Sallow.” You tilted your chin, enjoying the way his confidence wavered. “I am well aware of the frequent, shall we say, disappearances you and your companion have orchestrated.”

Sebastian blinked. Then, to your delight, his composure cracked just a fraction more. “Disappearances?”

“Yes.” You let the word drag, savoring it. “Discreet meetings. Secluded alcoves. Library corners far removed from prying eyes.” You paused for effect. “Surely, you don’t think the faculty are so blind?”

Sebastian was staring at you now, eyes darting around as if trying to determine just how much you knew—or rather, how much ‘Black’ knew. The corners of his ears were already turning pink.

You pressed on. “One might begin to wonder if these outings are of an… inappropriate nature.”

Sebastian choked.

Actually choked.

His composure—so carefully maintained, so effortlessly wielded in the face of authority—shattered like glass. He coughed violently, eyes widening in what could only be described as pure, undiluted horror.

“Inappropriate?” he managed, voice an octave higher than usual. “Sir, I—”

You held up a hand, cutting him off. “Now, now, Mr. Sallow, let us not be hasty in our denials.” You paced in a slow circle around him, watching the way his shoulders squared, the way his fingers twitched at his sides. “If, hypothetically, a situation were to arise—say, one resulting in an unexpected addition to the Hogwarts population—well, naturally, a marriage would be required.”

Sebastian’s mouth fell open.

“You mean a— a baby?!” he sputtered, looking positively scandalized. “What—no! That’s not—Sir, you have completely misunderstood—”

“I do hope so, for your sake.” You exhaled, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “It would be rather tedious, wouldn’t it? Organizing a ceremony, ensuring the Ministry is properly notified… And of course, the matter of parental consent.” You tutted. “Although, given your companion's… unfortunate lack of proper guardianship, I suppose we’d have to settle the matter internally. A pity, really.”

Sebastian’s ears were no longer pink; they were burning red.

“Sir,” he tried, his voice betraying the barest hint of a waver, “with all due respect, I—”

“Oh, but I must admit, the match does seem fitting.” You clasped your hands, peering down at him as if contemplating it seriously. “Our new fifth-year has certainly reined in that reckless streak of yours. A strong-willed partner to temper your unfortunate disregard for authority.” You sighed dramatically. “Perhaps it is not such a poor idea after all.”

Sebastian looked about two seconds from passing out. His mouth opened and closed, searching for a response but clearly coming up short. He was no doubt replaying every single one of your late-night meetings in his mind, tallying up just how scandalous they must seem from an outsider’s perspective.

You had never seen him so utterly speechless.

“Sir, I assure you, we are not—”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Not yet, perhaps.” Then, as if just coming to a realization, you gasped. “Or is it that you wish it were so?”

Sebastian made an awful noise—somewhere between a strangled yelp and a groan of agony. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides, like he was caught between gesturing wildly in protest and gripping his own hair in frustration.

“Sir—”

"What is it, Sallow? Spit it out, will you."

Sebastian swallowed hard, his usual bravado entirely abandoned. "Sir, I—this is—it's not what you think!"

You raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. "Oh? Enlighten me, then. What exactly do you think I think?"

Sebastian floundered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. "We—we were just studying!"

You exhaled heavily, as though exhausted by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. "Studying?" you echoed, dryly. "In the dead of night? In hidden corners of the castle? With your hands where, exactly?"

Sebastian made another strangled noise, looking truly panicked now. You almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. He had no idea. Absolutely no clue. And it was delicious.

"Sir," he finally managed, voice cracking just a little. "I swear on Merlin’s grave, I have never—my hands have never—!"

Liar.

"Mmm." You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to consider his words. "So you deny any inappropriate conduct with our new student? Any late-night whispers? Any—"

A voice rang out from behind you.

"Professor Black?"

You turned sharply on your heel, schooling your features into the most severe, disapproving expression you could muster. Ominis Gaunt stood a few paces away, his wand held aloft, his pale eyes blinking as he gauged the situation. His usual neutrality was in place, but you knew him well enough to detect the faint exasperation lingering beneath the surface.

As if he were already wondering what the hell Sebastian had done this time.

"Ah, Mr. Gaunt," you greeted, letting the headmaster’s usual tone of clipped condescension seep into your voice. "Excellent timing. I was just having a most illuminating discussion with your dear friend."

Ominis tilted his head ever so slightly, expression betraying a flicker of curiosity. "Sir?"

Sebastian, still reeling from your interrogation, turned to Ominis with wide, pleading eyes. The look clearly screamed: Help me.

You clasped your hands behind your back and resumed your slow, authoritative pacing. "Tell me, Mr. Gaunt, are you aware of your friend’s nightly disappearances with our newest fifth-year?"

Ominis frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Headmaster."

You hummed, turning to regard him with a sharp, scrutinizing gaze. "Is that so? And yet, I have been informed that Mr. Sallow has been... rather indiscreet in his late-night activities with her."

Sebastian choked again, making another strangled sound of distress. Ominis, for his part, merely exhaled through his nose, looking deeply unimpressed. "Sir, I can assure you, whatever you've heard has been exaggerated."

"Oh?" You arched a brow. "So you deny that Mr. Sallow has been sneaking about the castle at all hours, engaging in clandestine meetings?"

Ominis remained impassive. "Sebastian has always been prone to wandering, sir. It’s hardly a new development."

Sebastian latched onto that defense like a lifeline. "Exactly! I just—wander. Aimlessly. Like a—like a ghost!"

Ominis sighed. "Not helping, Sebastian."

You clasped your chin in mock contemplation, as if seriously weighing their words. "I see. And if I were to question our new fifth-year about these wandering excursions, would they give me the same answer?"

Sebastian blanched. Ominis, however, remained eerily calm.

"Undoubtedly," Ominis said smoothly. "And, if I may be so bold, sir, surely the Headmaster has far more pressing matters to concern himself with than the idle movements of two students?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. Clever. Too clever. Ominis knew how to handle authority far too well.

But you weren’t done yet.

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. "Mr. Gaunt, as Headmaster it is my duty to ensure the propriety of all student conduct—especially when it comes to matters of… courtship.”

Sebastian, who had been clinging to Ominis' defense like a drowning man to driftwood, practically flinched at the word.

“Sir, we’re—there’s no—” he croaked.

You cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, shifting your gaze back to Ominis, whose composed expression now held the barest trace of tension. “Surely, Mr. Gaunt, you, of all people, can appreciate the need for… structure, when it comes to matters of the heart. A proper match. A respectable arrangement.” You sighed, feigning concern. “But alas, young love is so often reckless. Thoughtless. Irresponsible.” You clasped your hands behind your back and shook your head gravely. “Which is why I fear Mr. Sallow is on course to... how shall I say it? Ruin his own future prospects.”

Sebastian, who had already been pale, seemed to turn an even more ghostly shade. “Sir, I—I don’t understand.”

“Oh, but it is quite simple, Mr. Sallow,” you continued smoothly. “Should a scandal arise—an unfortunate circumstance, let’s say—there would be consequences. A proper course of action would have to be taken.”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered wildly between you and Ominis, looking more and more like a cornered animal.

Ominis, who had been handling this entire exchange with relative poise, finally faltered. “Sir, surely—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” you interrupted, waving a hand in exasperation. “You’ll both insist that nothing untoward has occurred. But I must consider appearances, Mr. Gaunt. And if Hogwarts were to find itself at the center of an improper affair, well, we would have no choice but to ensure all parties involved were secured in a respectable manner.”

Sebastian made a sound so strangled it barely qualified as human.

Ominis, for the first time, looked genuinely speechless. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again as though he had completely lost the ability to formulate words.

You clasped your hands behind your back, nodding in a manner you hoped conveyed utmost seriousness. “Yes, yes. A proper arrangement. Ensuring the integrity of all involved parties.” You let the silence stretch, watching as Sebastian struggled to form a coherent response.

“Sir, that is—” Sebastian finally managed, his voice cracking. “That’s completely unnecessary! I assure you, we have done nothing inappropriate!”

“Oh?” You arched a brow, unimpressed. “So you deny any late-night rendezvous? Any secluded meetings?”

Sebastian groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I—yes, I mean, no! I mean—we weren’t—oh, for Merlin’s sake!”

Ominis, ever the composed one, finally seemed to regain his ability to speak. “Sir, if I may, I truly do not believe this warrants such drastic measures.”

You hummed, considering. “Perhaps. But one cannot be too careful. The reputation of this institution, and our new fifth year, is at stake.” You turned a sharp gaze to Sebastian. “You do care about your companion’s reputation, don’t you, Mr. Sallow?”

Sebastian looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “Of course I do!”

“Then it is settled,” you said with finality. “Should any… unfortunate rumors arise, we will be prepared to handle the situation appropriately.”

Sebastian groaned again, looking pleadingly at Ominis, who, for once, had no retort prepared. He merely rubbed his temple, looking as though he too wished to vanish from existence.

With that, you turned on your heel, sweeping away with the same imperious air Phineas Nigellus Black was known for, leaving behind a thoroughly scandalized Sebastian Sallow and an utterly exasperated Ominis Gaunt.

And the second you were out of sight, you bolted, biting down hard on your knuckles to keep from cackling out loud.

Oh, that had been worth every single second.

Read Part Two →

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lucilles-witchery · 10 months ago

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cuddle sesh w bakugo pls 🙈🙈🙈

hope this is what you wanted anon! I'm still getting used to this stuff

Cuddling with Katsuki Bakugo was never easy, especially on days like today, ones where training had kept you apart from each other. It wasn't very well known because he didn't let many people other than you see it, but the boy was very clingy.

So now you found yourself lying amongst the covers with him, both of you bare down to your underwear gripping each other under the soft white sheets of his bed.

Bakugo had his face buried in your chest and his hands gripping the backs of your thighs tightly, groaning in his sleepy state and trying to get as close to you as possible. While you were slowly tracing your right hand up and down his toned back soothingly and running your left through his blonde hair, peppering affectionate kisses on his forehead.

The fading light streams in past his blinds makes you groan in annoyance and Bakugo peeks up past his hair.

"I need to meet Mina in the library Kats" you tell him cautiously

He snarls against your skin and pulls you tighter "cancel"

"You know i cant do that Suki" you pull out of his grasp and throw the covers off of you, hissing as the cold hits you.

He turns over so his back is facing you "cant believe your ditchin' me for a date with that extra" he grumbles

Rolling your eyes, you laugh and lean down to press a kiss to his shoulderblade "ill see you in an hour Katsuki, and its not a date"

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reidmarieprentiss · 6 months ago

Text

Oops: Wrong Person

Summary: Spencer and you share a steamy night together, but when you go to spill the details to Emily, you accidentally send the text to the person of interest... will Spencer see it before you can fix things?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: NSFW (18+) additional warnings under the cut, alcohol consumption, talks of hangover, mention of a gun, sending text to wrong person, happy ending

Word count: 7.2k

a/n: shout out to @imagining-in-the-margins for pulling me out of my writers slump with their wrong recipient challenge !!! not proofread :/

prompts used: Character sends their friend a detailed review of their recent sexual encounter… and accidentally sends it to the person they’re reviewing

Character enlists Penelope’s help in hacking into someone’s device to delete an unintended message

main masterlist

Additional warnings: allusions to sex, oral (fem receiving)

The evening began innocently enough—just another night out with the team, exchanging stories and letting Penelope’s latest matchmaking attempts provide ample fodder for laughter. You and Spencer had been particularly unlucky in love lately, both of you enduring one disastrous date after another. Penelope had insisted she had "the perfect person" for each of you, but after a string of ill-suited setups, neither of you were optimistic. It was that shared frustration that had the two of you lingering over drinks a little longer than usual, swapping stories of cringe-worthy encounters and commiserating over your shared loneliness.

The conversation flowed more easily as the alcohol loosened your tongues, and you found yourselves laughing more, teasing less, and unearthing unexpected commonalities. Spencer wasn’t just the brilliant, socially awkward genius you’d always known—there was warmth, wit, and a surprising sense of humor that made you start to see him in a different light. For his part, Spencer found himself captivated by the way your eyes lit up as you recounted your tales, his usual nervousness fading as he grew more comfortable in your presence.

When the team decided to call it a night, Spencer insisted on walking you home. "You shouldn’t be out alone this late," he said, his tone firm but his gaze soft. The cool night air sobered you both slightly, but the buzz of the evening lingered as you strolled side by side. When you reached your front door, you turned to thank him, but Spencer hesitated. There was a moment—a pause filled with unspoken words—before he asked, almost shyly, "Can I kiss you?"

The question caught you off guard, but the answer came easily. “Yes,” you whispered, and the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, tentative at first but quickly deepening with urgency. The kiss ignited something you hadn’t expected, and before long, the two of you were tangled in your sheets, surrendering to the pull of the moment.

But now, as the morning light crept through the blinds, unwelcome and far too bright for how your head pounded and your stomach churned. The first thing you registered was warmth—Spencer’s arm draped over your waist, his face tucked into the pillow mere inches from yours. His soft breaths were the only sound in the room, aside from the dull hum of the city outside.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as the reality of the night before came crashing down like an avalanche. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing, hoping, that somehow, this was a vivid dream. But the ache in your muscles and the tangling of limbs beneath the sheets told you otherwise.

How had it come to this? You’d both sworn off dating for a while after Penelope’s well-meaning but disastrous matchmaking attempts, bonding over how exhausting it was to keep picking yourselves up after failure. You’d laughed, drank more than you should have, and for the first time, Spencer wasn’t just your quirky, brilliant colleague—he was just a man. A man with soft brown eyes, a boyish smile, and the kind of awkward charm that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, someone understood.

And then he’d walked you home. You had both hesitated on your doorstep, the air thick with unspoken words and the lingering spark of a night full of confessions. Spencer had looked at you, his cheeks flushed and his voice almost trembling as he asked if he could kiss you.

God, you’d wanted to say no. You should have said no. But the way he looked at you, with a vulnerability so raw and genuine, made it impossible. And when his lips met yours, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away. At least until now.

A quiet groan escaped your lips as you gingerly shifted away from his arm, careful not to wake him. You needed space—space to think, space to breathe. Tugging on a shirt discarded on the floor, you padded to the kitchen, leaning heavily against the counter as you stared blankly at the coffee maker.

This wasn’t just a mistake; it was a colossal, earth-shattering disaster. Spencer wasn’t just some random guy at a bar; he was your coworker, your teammate. You weren’t supposed to cross those lines, especially not in a way that could make things awkward for the entire team.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, willing away the threatening sting of tears. "What the hell were we thinking?" you muttered to yourself, though you already knew the answer. You were thinking about loneliness, about longing, about the fleeting comfort of being wanted. You were thinking about Spencer's warm smile and the way he looked at you like you were the most fascinating person in the world.

The sound of movement behind you snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You turned to find Spencer standing in the doorway, his hair disheveled and his shirt haphazardly buttoned. He looked at you with a mixture of shyness and concern, clearly unsure of what to say.

"Good morning," he said softly, his voice cracking slightly.

You swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile. "Morning."

An awkward silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Spencer shifted on his feet, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing in that familiar, thoughtful way.

"Yeah," you lied quickly, your voice pitching just a little too high to be convincing.

Spencer’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head, scrutinizing you in that way only Spencer could—like he was dissecting every layer of your soul. “You’re lying,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, devoid of judgment. “Do you regret last night?”

His words hit you harder than you expected. The vulnerability in his gaze—those soft, questioning hazel eyes—made your heart ache. You could feel the truth rising in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You couldn’t bear to hurt him, not after everything.

“I only regret drinking so much,” you said instead, forcing a weak smile and hoping it was enough. “I’m horribly hungover.”

For a moment, Spencer stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, to your immense relief, his lips quirked into a small, understanding smile, and he even chuckled softly. “Yeah, we might have overdone it a bit,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you making coffee?”

You nodded, grateful for the shift in focus. As the coffee brewed, the familiar aroma filling your small kitchen, the tension eased. You poured two mugs and handed one to Spencer, who took it with a quiet “thanks” and a smile. The two of you sat at your tiny dining table, sipping the hot brew and talking about the most recent case. It was like slipping back into the roles you knew, the professional partnership that felt safe and predictable.

When Spencer finally stood to leave, he hesitated by the door. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said softly, lingering for just a moment before stepping out into the morning sun.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence in your apartment felt deafening. You slumped into your chair, staring at the coffee cup he’d left behind. You’d managed to keep the lie intact, but it didn’t make the knot in your stomach feel any less tight. If anything, it made it worse.

Later that evening, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself, you grabbed your phone and fired off a text to Emily. She was your go-to for all the juicy details and unsolicited advice, and you desperately needed her take on the situation.

Em, you’ll never believe it… I slept with Spencer! And before you even ask, no, it was not good. He was so sweet and, honestly, really attractive, but it was like he was just there to smash and dash, I swear! There was no build-up, no foreplay, it was so boring. I swear the only reason I was even wet enough was how good he looked. Em, what do I do?

You stared at the message for a moment before pressing send, your heart pounding as you anticipated her reply. You knew Emily wouldn’t hold back, but that was exactly what you needed—someone to be brutally honest with you.

Setting your phone aside, you waited for the familiar buzz of her reply. But as the minutes ticked by, your attention started to drift. The weight of the day and the lingering tension from your morning with Spencer caught up with you, and before you knew it, you had dozed off on the couch.

When you woke early the next morning, the faint glow of your phone screen illuminated the room, the only light breaking through the predawn darkness. You groaned, rubbing one eye as you sat up, feeling the stiffness in your back from spending the night on the couch. Reaching for your phone, you squinted at the screen, ready to check if Emily had replied to your late-night text.

But when you opened your conversation with her, the message you so vividly remembered typing was nowhere to be found. Confused, you stared at the blank thread for a moment.

"That's weird," you muttered to yourself. "Maybe I just dreamed I sent it."

Shrugging it off, you stretched, wincing as the ache from your uncomfortable sleeping position made itself known. After a quick shower and a cup of coffee, you pushed the odd moment out of your mind, determined to start the day fresh.

Later that morning, as you walked into the bullpen at work, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The usual hum of activity filled the air—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, voices murmuring about cases. Spencer was already at his desk, his face buried in a file, and he didn’t look up as you passed by. If he was feeling awkward about that night, he didn’t show it.

You dropped your bag onto your desk and booted up your computer, feeling a flicker of relief that everything seemed normal. The morning carried on uneventfully—until Emily strolled over, her face unreadable, and perched casually on the edge of your desk.

"Hey," she said, her tone casual as ever. "Do anything interesting this weekend?"

The question made your stomach flip. For a brief, horrifying moment, you wondered if you had sent that text after all.

Your heart pounded as you leaned in closer to Emily, lowering your voice to a whisper so that Spencer, sitting just a few feet away, wouldn’t overhear. “Did you see my text? I could have sworn I sent one last night,” you asked, keeping your tone as casual as possible despite the rising panic in your chest.

Emily frowned slightly, pulling out her phone and scrolling through your thread. “No? What was it about?” she asked, holding her screen up as proof of her empty inbox.

The confusion on your face deepened as you promised to catch her up on your weekend later. “Never mind, it’s nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. But as she walked away, a gnawing sense of dread began to form in the pit of your stomach. Something felt off—terribly off.

Grabbing your phone, you scrolled through your messages, hoping, praying you’d simply forgotten to hit send or, at worst, sent it to someone like your parents or even Hotch. But when you finally found the message, your blood ran cold. There it was, the detailed, unfiltered account of your night with Spencer, sent—and the recipient was none other than Spencer Reid himself.

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt, and you couldn’t breathe. Your hands trembled as you stared at the screen, rereading the incriminating text over and over. You couldn’t even bring yourself to glance in Spencer’s direction, terrified he’d somehow know you’d realized your mistake.

Not knowing what else to do, you bolted from your desk and ran straight to Penelope’s office. You slammed the door shut behind you, startling her so badly that she let out a loud shriek.

“Y/N! What the heck, you scared me, girl!” she exclaimed, spinning around in her chair with wide eyes. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”

You barely managed to catch your breath as you blurted out the words. “Can you hack into Spencer’s phone?”

“What? Why?” she asked, her confusion giving way to intrigue.

“I sent him something he was never meant to see,” you said, your voice trembling.

Penelope’s expression lit up with gleeful curiosity, her hands clasping together in delight. “Oh my god! Drama!” she squealed. “Was it something saucy?” Her grin turned wicked, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“No, Pen, nothing like that…” you lied, though your face betrayed the truth. “Just—can you do it?”

“Only if you tell me why,” she sing-songed, leaning forward as if this were the best thing to happen to her all week.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “It’s about Spencer, okay? I sent him a message I was venting to Emily about… and it’s—oh my god, Penelope, it’s bad.”

“How bad?” she pressed, practically vibrating in her seat.

You hesitated, your mind racing. “Like… it’s about bedroom activities, bad.”

Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “You and Boy Wonder?” she gasped, her voice rising in pitch. “No way! Tell me everything right now, and then I’ll consider saving your butt.”

So, you spilled it all, every mortifying detail of your ill-advised text and the lackluster night with Spencer. Penelope listened with wide eyes, her hand dramatically clutching her chest as though she were living through the mortification alongside you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she interrupted at one point, holding up a finger. “Are you saying there was no foreplay? None at all? Oh, honey, that’s—oh no.” Her sympathy was so theatrical it almost made you laugh, but the weight of your predicament kept your stomach in knots.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I know, I know. It was just… disappointing. He was sweet, don’t get me wrong, but it felt so rushed, and then I panicked afterward, and now this. I just hope he hasn’t seen the text. I mean, he doesn’t check his phone often, right? Unless it’s a call or something urgent?”

Penelope tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping a glittery nail against her lips. “You’ve got a point there. Spencer isn’t exactly glued to his phone like the rest of us mere mortals. But if he has seen it…” She winced, letting the implication hang in the air.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Penelope, please. I’ll never live this down. Can you help me? Just… I don’t know, tell him it was a new protocol or something if you have to.”

Penelope’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, sweetie, you know I love a good cover story. I’ll just tell him we’re testing a new security system or a phone update procedure, and I need to check his device. It’ll buy us some time, at least.”

Relief flooded you, though it was tinged with lingering dread. “You’re a lifesaver, Pen. I owe you big time.”

“Oh, you’ll owe me,” she quipped, already pulling up the tools she needed on her computer. “Now go sit tight while Mama Bear fixes your mess.”

You gave her a weak smile and stepped out of her office, nerves still on edge as you tried to focus on anything but the potential fallout. All you could do now was hope Penelope worked her magic before Spencer’s curiosity—or worse, his notifications—got the better of him.

—

It had been a few weeks since that mortifying ordeal, and life at the BAU had returned to its usual rhythm. You and Spencer were working together like nothing had happened, the two of you exchanging case theories and research notes with the same easy professionalism as always. If he had seen the text, he certainly wasn’t acting like it.

You clung to that thought, reassuring yourself every time you caught him flipping through files or muttering stats under his breath. Spencer wasn’t one to hold back if something was bothering him—if he had read the text, you were sure he would’ve said something by now. Right?

Penelope had assured you she’d taken care of it, spinning some elaborate story about a security test or protocol update to gain access to his phone. “Smooth as butter,” she’d told you with a wink. You had to trust her; if anyone could cover their tracks, it was Penelope Garcia.

Still, there were moments when a flicker of doubt would creep in, especially when you caught Spencer looking at you for a beat too long or when his smile seemed softer than usual. You wondered if he was just being his sweet, considerate self, or if there was some small part of him that knew.

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. He was standing next to your desk, holding out a file. “I thought you might want to take a look at this. It’s related to the unsub’s timeline.”

“Oh, thanks,” you said quickly, accepting the file and forcing a smile. Your hands brushed briefly, and though the touch was fleeting, it sent a small jolt through you. You cleared your throat, trying to push the memory of that night further down into the recesses of your mind.

As he walked back to his desk, you let out a slow breath of relief. He was acting normal—maybe even too normal—but you decided to take it as a win. If he hadn’t mentioned anything by now, it probably meant Penelope had pulled off her mission flawlessly.

You could finally move forward, pretending nothing had ever happened. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

—

The team had gathered at the bar once again, and the night was well underway. Laughter filled the air as Penelope and Emily, true to their roles as the team’s biggest shit-stirrers, steered the conversation toward bad hookup stories. One by one, everyone chimed in with their own tales—some embarrassing, others outright hilarious. Even Hotch and Rossi surprised everyone by sharing anecdotes, their typically reserved facades melting away under the influence of camaraderie and alcohol.

You, however, stayed silent, staring intently at your soda and purposefully avoiding Spencer’s gaze. The thought of contributing to the topic sent waves of panic through you. Spencer, sipping his lemonade, seemed just as disinterested in alcohol as you were—although, unlike you, he appeared perfectly calm.

Emily, catching your silence and sensing an opportunity, smirked over the rim of her whiskey glass. “Y/N…” she began, dragging out your name in a voice that instantly made your stomach drop. “What about you? Any bad hookups recently?”

Your eyes widened, and the sip of soda you’d just taken went down the wrong way. You coughed violently, waving a hand to reassure everyone you were fine, even as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. “H-hmm? No,” you managed to croak out, your voice high and strained. “Not, um, not too recently.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as if she could see right through you. “Not too recently?” she repeated, clearly fishing for more. “That’s a very specific answer, don’t you think?”

Penelope leaned in, her knowing grin rattling you further. “Oh, come on, Y/N! Spill it! We’ve all shared—you’re not getting out of this that easily.”

You opened your mouth, scrambling for something—anything—to say that wouldn’t give away the truth. But before you could stammer out a reply, Spencer spoke up, his tone light but pointed.

“Maybe we should let Y/N off the hook,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking back to his glass. “Not everyone wants to relive their awkward, or boring, moments.”

Your breath hitched, and time seemed to slow. Spencer’s words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been.

"Not everyone wants to relive their awkward, or boring, moments."

The word boring hit you like a brick to the chest, your mind immediately flashing back to the mortifying text you’d mistakenly sent to him weeks ago. Boring. The exact word you’d used to describe your night with him.

Your heart raced as you tried to process what this could mean. Had he seen the text? Was he throwing subtle jabs at you now, letting you know in his own understated way that he was aware of what you’d said? Or—your stomach churned—was this just a terrible coincidence?

You froze, your fingers gripping the edge of your glass as though it were the only thing keeping you grounded. Your face felt hot, and your mind scrambled for something to say, but your voice wouldn’t cooperate. All you could do was glance at him, hoping to read something in his expression, but Spencer didn’t look back at you. Instead, he sipped his lemonade nonchalantly, his face giving nothing away except perhaps the faintest flicker of amusement.

Penelope, blissfully aware of the tension now coursing through you, laughed and waved him off. “Oh, come on, Spencer. You’ve gotta admit, the awkward ones make for the best stories!”

Spencer smiled faintly but didn’t reply, his eyes fixed on the table. You, on the other hand, felt like you were going to combust. Every second stretched painfully as you tried to decipher his intent. Did he know? Had he been holding this over you all this time? If he did know, why hadn’t he said anything? And why bring it up now?

You decided you couldn’t sit there any longer. “Excuse me,” you muttered hastily, standing up and heading toward the bathroom. You needed a moment—just a moment—to breathe and figure out what the hell was happening.

Once inside, you leaned against the sink, gripping the counter as you stared at your reflection. He knows. He definitely knows, you thought, replaying his words over and over in your mind.

But what did that mean for the two of you now? And, more terrifyingly, what was he going to do about it?

When you returned to the table, you were relieved to find that the group had shifted away from the awkward topic of hookups. Instead, they were now swapping stories about their most embarrassing encounters with local law enforcement during cases. The laughter was infectious, and you felt some of the tension ease from your shoulders as you slid back into your seat.

Emily was in the middle of reenacting a particularly mortifying moment where she’d accidentally walked into the wrong briefing room during a case, only to realize it was a police academy class in session. Penelope nearly fell off her chair laughing, and even Hotch cracked a rare smile. You joined in the laughter, grateful for the distraction and the chance to blend back into the group unnoticed.

But even as you laughed, you couldn’t shake the awareness of Spencer’s gaze. It wasn’t obvious, not enough for anyone else to notice, but you felt it—the way his eyes lingered on you a second too long, the way he watched you out of the corner of his vision.

You tried to brush it off as paranoia, convincing yourself you were imagining things, but the weight of his attention was impossible to ignore. Every time you glanced his way, he quickly looked down, pretending to be focused on his drink or the conversation. Yet his subtle smirk betrayed him, like he knew something you didn’t.

Your stomach twisted again, but this time it wasn’t just embarrassment—it was something else, something harder to pin down. Was he amused? Angry? Curious? Or worse… disappointed?

“Y/N,” Emily called, pulling you back to the moment. “What about you? Didn’t you have that one time with the sheriff who thought you were the intern?”

You forced a laugh, grateful for the change of subject. “Oh, God, yes. He spent half the briefing explaining things to me like I’d never heard of basic police work. Then he asked if I could grab him coffee!” The group erupted into laughter again, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, focusing on the good friends around you.

But even in the warmth of the group’s laughter, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Spencer’s gaze. It burned softly, quietly, but with undeniable intensity, leaving you wondering what he was thinking—and what he might be planning to say when the moment came.

After dropping Emily off and driving yourself home, you settled into the comfort of your routine, grateful to put the tension of the evening behind you. You had already changed into pajamas and washed your face when a sharp knock at the door startled you. The hour was late, and your neighborhood wasn’t exactly bustling at night, so caution kicked in immediately. Grabbing your gun—safety on, of course—you crept toward the door and checked the peephole.

The sight of Spencer standing there, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, made you release a heavy sigh. You lowered the gun, unbolting the door and opening it to find him still waiting, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination.

“Spencer?” you asked, blinking at him in surprise. “Why are you here?”

His gaze immediately dropped to the gun still loosely in your grip, and his eyebrows shot up. “Whoa,” he said with a nervous laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I come in peace. I just wanted to talk.”

You shook your head, setting the weapon on the nearby table with a faint smirk. “You picked a great time for it,” you muttered, motioning for him to come inside. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

Spencer stepped past you, his movements careful and deliberate as he crossed the threshold. He paused just inside, glancing around as though he needed to steady himself. Finally, he turned to face you, his hands still tucked in his pockets, his face unreadable.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, and then tonight…” he began, his voice soft but steady.

Your stomach dropped, and you felt your pulse quicken. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the doorframe.

His lips twitched—something between a smile and a grimace. “You know exactly what I mean,” he said quietly, his eyes locking onto yours. “The way you froze when I said ‘boring.’ The way you’ve been avoiding looking at me for weeks. And the way you bolted when Emily tried to press you about hookups tonight.”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“I saw the text,” he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. “The one you meant to send to Emily.”

Your heart sank, and your cheeks flushed with humiliation. “Spencer, I—” you began, but he cut you off again, his voice surprisingly calm.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he continued. “I figured it was your way of processing things, and I didn’t want to make it worse. But after tonight, I realized… maybe we need to talk about it.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for you to see that. I was just… venting. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I know you didn’t. And honestly, I’m not upset—not about what you said, anyway. But it made me think… maybe I didn’t handle things as well as I could have.”

That caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wasn’t exactly at my best that night. I was nervous, and I didn’t know how to… connect with you the way I wanted to. And after seeing that text, I realized I might have made you feel… unimportant. Like it didn’t mean anything to me. But it did.”

His confession left you stunned, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. The vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes—it was almost too much.

“Spencer,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t realize it mattered to you that much.”

“It does,” Spencer said simply, his voice steady but his eyes searching yours. “And I want to try to redeem myself, if you’ll let me.”

“Redeem yourself?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the words catching in your throat as the air between you grew heavy with anticipation.

Spencer stepped closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you, his movements careful and deliberate. “Yeah,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. His hands found your waist, his touch light but firm as he gently pulled you closer. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, the gesture small but filled with meaning. You felt like you were in a daze, your thoughts scattered as Spencer leaned down, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. Time seemed to slow as his face drew nearer, and then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was different this time—slower, deeper, infused with an unspoken promise. Spencer’s hands slid up your sides, one settling on your lower back, the other moving to cradle the side of your face. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, then curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened.

It wasn’t rushed, and it wasn’t awkward. It was intentional, every movement speaking of care and consideration. Spencer kissed you like he wanted to show you exactly how much you mattered, how much the moment mattered.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady yourselves. His hand remained on your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” Spencer asked softly, his voice a delicate mixture of nerves and hope. His hand on your waist tightened ever so slightly, grounding both you and him as his hazel eyes searched yours for an answer.

Your heart fluttered at his request, the vulnerability in his expression making the moment feel intimate in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. You nodded, your lips parting slightly as you whispered, “Yeah, we can.”

He exhaled a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, his relief almost palpable. He smiled, that shy but genuine smile that made your chest ache in the best way. Taking your hand in his, he let you lead him toward the bedroom, his fingers entwining with yours in a way that felt so natural, so right.

Once inside, Spencer paused, glancing around as if he were taking in every detail of the space. You felt a rush of warmth in your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware of your surroundings, but Spencer’s attention quickly returned to you. He reached for you again, his touch gentle as he pulled you close.

“I want to get this right,” he murmured, his voice soft and earnest. His hands slid up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “I don’t want you to ever feel like… like you don’t matter to me.”

The sincerity in his words struck something deep within you, and you leaned into his touch, your hands resting on his chest as you tilted your face up to him. “You don’t have to prove anything, Spencer,” you said quietly.

His lips curved into a small smile, “I want to” he said before he kissed you again, this time with a slow, deliberate tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine.

Spencer’s hands trembled slightly as he took his time this time, unhurriedly removing your clothes with a reverence that bordered on worship. Every inch of newly exposed skin was met with a gentle kiss, his lips pressing softly against your collarbone, your shoulders, the curve of your hip. His attention to every detail made your heart race and your skin hum with anticipation.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second and show you how much this moment meant to him. He whispered quiet words between kisses—gentle reassurances and praises that made you feel both seen and cherished.

By the time you were completely bare, the tension in your body had melted away, replaced by a growing warmth that seemed to spread from your chest to every corner of your being. Spencer’s hands lingered on your waist, his touch warm and grounding, before he guided you gently to lie down on the bed. His gaze never left yours, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, almost like a prayer, before straightening to remove his own clothes. Piece by piece, he stripped down, his movements still unhurried as though rushing would break the fragile intimacy between you. When he was down to just his briefs, he paused, his expression laced with vulnerability as he looked at you.

Spencer took your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he climbed onto the bed in front of you. The mattress dipped under his weight, and he leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before trailing a path along your jaw and down your neck.

This wasn’t rushed or frantic. This wasn’t about proving anything or making up for past mistakes (well, maybe a little bit). This was about connection, about being fully present with each other. Spencer’s touch was gentle but firm, his kisses lingering, his hands exploring every curve and plane of your body as though memorizing you.

“You matter,” Spencer murmured against your skin, the words sending shivers down your spine as they vibrated through you. “This matters.”

“Spencer,” you groaned, your tone half-playful, half-flustered as you turned your head and buried your face in the pillow, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks.

“I mean it,” he said with a soft laugh, his lips brushing tender kisses along the curve of your hips as he began to trail his way downward. His voice was warm and genuine, the sincerity in his words making your heart ache in the best way.

You gasped softly, lifting your head from the pillow to look at him just as his hands gently spread your thighs apart. His gaze was steady but filled with unmistakable affection, the teasing grin on his face doing nothing to disguise the care in his actions.

“No foreplay?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he settled between your legs. His hands caressed your thighs, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. “What awful man made you go through that?”

The memory of your drunken text and his earlier words flashed through your mind, and your cheeks flushed even deeper. “Oh my god, Spencer,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands as he laughed softly.

“I’m serious,” he continued, his tone light but laced with playful mockery. “That’s a crime against humanity, honestly. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice dropping lower as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll make it up to you.”

The words alone sent a shiver through you, but it was the way Spencer looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment—that left you utterly breathless. And as his lips moved closer, you realized with a mix of anticipation and awe that he fully intended to prove it.

The first kiss to your most intimate skin made you yelp in shock, your body jolting at the sudden, unexpected sensation. The sound escaped you before you could even process it, and your hands flew to grip the sheets beneath you as your breath hitched.

“Someone’s sensitive,” Spencer mumbled, his voice low and teasing, the words more directed to your skin than to you. His warm breath against you made your already racing heart stutter. Before you could form a coherent response, he leaned in again, his lips pressing another kiss to your clit, this time followed by a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue.

The sensation was electric, a mix of heat and softness that sent waves of pleasure through your body. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped from your lips, your head falling back against the pillow as Spencer’s hands gripped your thighs gently, holding you in place as he worked.

He moved with an almost studious precision, as though he were memorizing what made you gasp, shiver, or moan. Every touch of his lips, every flick of his tongue, was calculated yet somehow felt achingly natural, like he was simply following the rhythm of your body.

"Mm," he hummed against you, his tone almost smug as he pulled back briefly, his lips glistening. "I knew you'd taste amazing." His voice was warm, filled with an admiration that made your cheeks burn. Then, without giving you time to respond, he dove back in, his tongue and lips working together in a way that left you unable to form a single coherent thought.

You were melting, your body arching into him as your fingers tangled in the sheets. Each sensation was more intense than the last, and you found yourself utterly at his mercy, the rest of the world fading away until only Spencer remained.

And just when you thought the pleasure couldn’t possibly get any better, Spencer added one of his beautiful, long, bony fingers into the mix. The gentle yet deliberate motion of his finger sliding into you sent a shockwave of sensation through your entire body, and you couldn’t hold back the way your back arched off the bed.

“Spencer!” you yelled out, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, your voice raw with need. The sound seemed to spur him on, and you felt his lips curve into a faint smile against your skin.

“Good?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression equal parts satisfaction and adoration.

You could barely respond, your words coming out in broken gasps. “Yes—oh my god, yes!”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against you, before he returned his focus to you. His finger moved in perfect rhythm with his tongue, slow and deliberate at first, then gradually picking up a pace that had you completely unraveling beneath him. Every movement was calculated, every flick of his wrist or press of his tongue designed to draw out every sound you made, and you could feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

“Spencer…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your body trembled beneath his relentless attention. You weren’t sure if you were begging him to stop or pleading for him to never stop—maybe both, maybe neither. All you knew was that he was consuming every part of you, and you didn’t want it to end.

When he added a second finger, curling them in just the right way, it pushed you over the edge. The pleasure was overwhelming, crashing over you in waves so powerful that your cries filled the room as your body arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as if you needed to anchor yourself to reality.

Spencer didn’t stop, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you were left trembling, breathless, and completely undone beneath him. Only then did he pull back, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he gave you a moment to catch your breath.

“You’re amazing,” Spencer murmured, his voice filled with a quiet awe as he rested his chin lightly on your hip. His hazel eyes were warm and sincere, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “Can’t believe I missed out on this last time.”

The compliment, so earnest and sweet, made your cheeks flush. You slung an arm over your eyes, laughing softly, trying to shake off the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. “Oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by your arm.

Spencer chuckled, his amusement clear as he pushed himself up and lay down beside you. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and you felt his warmth even before he leaned in close, propping his head up with one hand as he looked down at you with a playful expression. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone light, curiosity mingling with amusement.

You moved your arm just enough to peek at him, a lopsided grin still on your face. “I just—wow,” you said, still catching your breath. “I was not expecting that.”

Spencer’s brows lifted in mock surprise, and he placed a hand over his chest in a dramatic gesture. “You doubted me?” he teased, his grin widening.

You laughed again, finally dropping your arm and turning to face him fully. “No, not exactly,” you admitted, biting your lip. “But that was… definitely not what I expected. In the best possible way.”

His expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something gentler. “Good,” he said simply, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Am I going to get a better review this time?”

You burst out laughing, playfully swatting at his chest. “Mhm,” you teased, unable to keep the grin off your face. “I’ll make sure to tell Em how good her coworker is with his mouth.”

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before chuckling. “Oh god, please don’t do that,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands before he peeked out at you with a sheepish grin. “Just tell her your boyfriend is better than you previously thought.”

His words hung in the air, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. “Boyfriend?” you repeated, your brows raising as you looked at him, searching his face for any sign that he was joking.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed instantly, but he didn’t backpedal. Instead, he held your gaze, his lips twitching into a small, nervous smile. “I mean… if you want me to be,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its usual confidence. “I just thought… maybe this isn’t just a one-time, or two-timw thing. At least, I hope it’s not.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the vulnerability in his voice, and a warmth spread through your chest as you processed his words. You couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to rest a hand on his cheek. “You’re serious?”

Spencer nodded, his hazel eyes filled with sincerity. “Yeah, I am,” he said quietly. “But only if you’re okay with that.”

A smile spread across your face, your fingers brushing against his skin as you leaned in closer. “I think a girl could get used to that,” you whispered.

The relief that washed over Spencer’s face was almost palpable, and he couldn’t hide the wide grin that followed. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with a newfound certainty that made your heart flutter.

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