#maybe i do a part two one day 👀

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[heyimkana]

guys

I definitely have to split the chapter i'm sorry gang

errr so I've decided to split Pillow Talk into 3 parts, right, but part 2 is already sitting at 10k now 💀 (i wrote too many flirty banters, classic kana)

please let me know 🥺

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 3

In which things are made official.

Warnings: smut in the middle. lando being jealous. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 4.6k words

(a note: happy new year loves!!! hope you enjoy part three!!)

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername testing testing... BFFSarah so jealous! >>>yourusername miss you! ❤️ landonorris stalker >>>yourusername 😘 >>>BFFSarah 👀

"I'm funnier than Greg, right?" Lando grumbles, not even bothering to take his eyes off of you.

"Mate, what?" Oscar replies, eyes narrowed, totally mystified as to what the hell his teammate is talking about. "Like, Greg, the guy on the strategy team Greg?"

"Yeah, him." Lando raises his chin towards where you stand opposite of said strategy Greg, laughing (even louder this time) at something he's said. Lando knuckles go white on the counter he's standing when Greg leans in just a bit too close for his comfort.

It was the first day of testing in Bahrain and Lando had just come in from his first test stint of the 2025 season. When he'd walked into the garage a few minutes earlier, he'd instantly clocked where you stood near the back of the garage staring up at a few computer monitors beside his newest nemesis, Greg. At first he hadn't thought anything of it but then he heard you laugh, a sound that was quickly becoming one of his favorite things, and he had stopped what he was doing to stare.

"I don't think I know Greg's sense of humor well enough to be the judge of that." Oscar responds, still confused as to why Lando was asking him such a random question. When Oscar follows Lando's line of sight though, everything clicks into place and starts to make a lot more sense.

"Oh..." He mutters, unable to quell the smirk that surfaces.

"'Oh' what?" Lando snaps, still attempting to assassinate Greg with a glare.

"You're jealous." Oscar practically giggles. He might be the quieter one of the driver duo, but that quiet demeanor meant that he noticed a lot more than other people gave him credit for and Oscar had caught onto Lando's crush after the first time he had stumbled into your office and disappeared on him for hours.

Lando finally tears his eyes away from where you're standing, still staring up in rapt attention to Greg. "I most certainly am not." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a move that is very reminiscent of a Stella temper tantrum.

"You two aren't even together, are you?" Oscar reasons, doing next to nothing to reassure Lando that he has nothing to be worried about.

Lando narrows his eyes at the Australian as he fights a pout. "I mean, no. Not technically, I guess."

And that was the problem, wasn't it? You two had been on a few dates and he'd been coming over to your house to hang with you and Stella more and more but a serious discussion of what was happening? He'd been too scared to have that kind of talk with you so quick. You made him nervous but being rejected by you sounded even worse.

"Maybe you should like, talk to her about it then? If that's what you want? I mean, I've never seen the sight of a girl talking to someone else send you into orbit like this before. You really like her, don't you?"

Oscar had worked hard to keep his opinion of you and Lando together to himself. He hated when people commented on his relationship with Lily, which was a big reason why they were so quiet together, so he had made it a point not to press when it came to you. He'd spent most of the morning with you though, while Lando was in the car and he could see why Lando was so attached to you already. You were wicked smart and the program that you had been writing for the team was impressive. He knew there were other people in Lando's life that didn't think the driver could handle being with someone like you but the more Oscar got to know you, the more he could see why you two got on so well.

Lando's gaze slides back to you then. "I do, yeah." He murmurs, a sudden sense of determination settling over him. Before he has the chance to chicken out once again, he pats Oscar on the back and starts off towards where you and Greg are still huddled together in front of a computer screen.

"Greg, can I steal her away from you real quick?" Lando says by way of greeting, his tone needlessly possessive. "Will and I wanted to go through last sessions data with you before lunch." He lies.

You hadn't noticed the way Lando had been staring daggers at you and Greg up until that very moment but the feral look he's giving you takes you by surprise. Greg had approached you as Lando's session had wound down and your new program was stretching its legs on your laptop. He wanted to talk about the inputs you were adding in for this year and give you some feedback on the initial data capture of this morning's session. It was totally innocent and when Lando had slid up next to you practically breathing fire, you had been a bit caught off guard.

"I'll see you at the cocktail party later tonight, Greg." You give him a smile before turning back to Lando. "Where do you want to go, the debrief room?"

"Sure." Lando huffs, giving Greg a fake smile before grabbing your elbow and leading you towards an empty conference room. Like hell you were going to see Gregory at any point for the rest of the day.

You're totally confused at the way he's practically dragging you down the hallway and even more perplexed when Lando nearly slams the door closed behind him and you find the debrief room completely empty. "Where's Will?"

"What?" Lando frowns.

"You said you and Will wanted to go over some data after your session." Annoyance moves through you. What in the world was going on?

"Oh, yeah no. I lied." Lando glares at you like you're the insane one, frown deepening.

"Lando!" You sputter, resisting the urge to chuck the nearest laptop at his head. "I was in the middle of a conversation with Greg."

When he rolls his eyes, you swear you see red. "Yeah, I know. We all saw how endlessly entertaining the conversation was."

The pout that finds it's way onto his face is what unlocks everything for you though. Sudden understanding washes over you as it all finally clicks.

"You're jealous!" You gasp, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of giggles.

Lando at least as the decency to look a bit ashamed of his behavior but attempts to deny it. "I am not."

You arch an eyebrow at the man standing across from you as if he's not the easiest book in the world to read. "Lando Norris, you were jealous of a man who was telling me all about how his boyfriend took him on a trip to the Bahamas over the holidays and got bitten by a wild swimming pig."

The way Lando's cheeks go scarlet as he crosses his arms over his chest nearly has you doubled over with laughter.

"Oh."

"Oh is right, you muppet." You chuckle, using the term of endearment he's become famous for. In a few strides, your within arms length of him, tugging at the waist of his half unzipped race suit. Lando takes a step forward as you pull him closer.

"Jealously looks good on you, Norris." You smirk before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, mindful of the fact that you're still at work.

Lando settles his hands on your hips, drawing you even closer to him, seemingly forgetting that he's still at work. He grins down at you, a flirty glint sparking in his eyes.

"Yeah, well. What can I say? The sight of some idiot flirting with my girlfriend kind of set me off."

Your hands slip around Lando's waist. Heart hammering so fast you're amazed Lando can't hear it, you beam up at him. You'd never experienced the kind of contentment and safety you felt whenever you were with Lando before. He frequently caught you off balance like this and had you feeling like you were a teenager again, still believing in fairy tales and happy endings.

"Girlfriend, huh?"

"That's right." He whispers. The rasp in his voice has you pressing your hips into his, seeking friction from his body.

"Well, since I'm your girlfriend then I guess you’ll be needing this for later tonight." Reaching into the back pocket of your jeans, your fingers find the thin plastic card you'd stashed there to slip into Lando's hand sometime this afternoon.

Anticipation sparks between your bodies as Lando figures out what you've just pressed into his palm. All this time he'd been building up this big conversation that he thought had to be had and nervously putting so much pressure on himself to do this all the right way. It had only taken a matter of seconds though and you had reminded him that it like most everything that happened between you and him, this was easy too. There's a silent understanding that passes between you two then that maybe this was how it was supposed to be from the beginning and that sometimes wires get crossed and we meet people later than the universe intended.

"I have to get back to work and you should really find Will and actually debrief but I think I'd like to skip tonights cocktail hour if that's okay with you."

Lando reluctantly lets go and nods, swallowing around the thick lump of emotion stuck in his throat.

"Yeah." He croaks before reaching back out to bring your face to his, kissing you so intensely your knees buckle. "I'll see you tonight."

Not even five minutes after Lando responds to your text, you hear the beeping of the lock to your hotel room door and it swings open moments later. Anxiety flows through you despite the flirty text you'd just sent. This kind of thing was totally out of your wheel house, with most of your adult life spent focusing on your daughter and not dating. It had been Sarah's suggestion to send that risky text but after your conversation with Lando earlier, you were briefly confident that it would be well received. And judging by his response, you were right. That didn't do much to calm your nerves though so the knock on your door sends the butterflies in your belly flying around in what feels like a category five tornado.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Lando groans when he sees you kneeling on the bed waiting for him. Every thought tumbles straight out of his head at the sight of you waiting for him in nothing but black bits of lace. If he had known this was what had been waiting for him all night, he certainly wouldn't have gone to dinner with some of the team.

"You like it then?" You ask, barely resisting the urge to dive under the covers you feel so exposed under his gaze. Lando can't stop staring and it's starting to make you nervous, the way he's dragging his eyes up and down your body without making an attempt to move from where he stands just inside your hotel room.

"Like it? Baby, are you fucking kidding me? I don't think I've ever seen a prettier sight in my entire life." The rasp in his voice drags down your skin like sandpaper.

"Then stop staring and get over here."

Lando obeys immediately, toeing off his shoes before joining you on the bed. His hands find your hips and before you can make a sound, he's pulling you into his lap and attaching his lips to your neck.

"I think everyone got the impression I was about to be sick or something, I got up from that table so fucking fast." He mumbles against you. "Also, give me some warning next time you're going to send me that kind of thing, Osc nearly got an eye full of something that is for my eyes only."

Lando had been attempting to show Oscar something on his phone when your text had come through and the moment he'd swapped over to his iMessage app he was glad that Andrea had picked that exact second to call Oscar's name. He had shut down the message app so fast, all of his blood rushing straight from his head to below his belt.

"Oops." You giggle. "Sorry."

"You're not one bit sorry, don't lie."

All you do is shrug as you preen under his attention. He eyes drag lazy lines up and down your body, stalling when they fall on the black lace barely hiding your most intimate parts. The heat of his gaze has fire stoking deep in your belly and for the first time in years, you feel desired and wanted. It's an unfamiliar feeling that you're still getting used to but with Lando, it feels safe. You feel cared for and it's unlike anything you've ever experienced with anyone you've slept with before. Which, to be totally honest, wasn't a lot. You haven't been in a serious relationship since Stella's dad, the only dates you've gone on in the last six years usually ending in casual flings that don't end up meaning much outside of the bedroom.

This though? This feels different and you know Lando feels the same.

Lando's hands grip at your hips as he moves you off his lap briefly and stands up. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he unbuckles his belt with one hand, tugging it off in one smooth motion, the leather slapping against itself and echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. 

“Jesus.” You breathe and desperately try to catch your breath as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You've known that Lando has a sinfully good body for a while, his entire career is centered around his body afterall so naturally, he is in amazing shape. There’s a reason that women will do next to anything to get any of the drivers in their bed. Nothing prepared you for the hard planes of his chest and the insane cut of his abs though. The way his waist nips in to show off a deep V cut of his torso makes your mouth water. With both his jeans and shirt now discarded, he stands in front of you in just a pair of gray boxers that do absolutely nothing to hide how rock hard he is.

Fuck. 

Before you can stop yourself, you rise up on your knees and move towards him, needing to get your hands on his body. On your knees before him while he’s standing, you only come up to his collar bones but that’s enough. You drop kisses on his heated flesh and relish the way his breath hitches in his throat when your lips make contact. He allows you to continue kissing him for several moments, his hands roaming all over your body. You don’t know how long it is but after his hands have taken full a full tour of your skin, he pulls back and looks at you with a primal glint in his eyes. “Lay down." He orders "I need my tongue on you. Now.” 

You obey and crawl back, watching him prowl after you. Your head rests on the pile of pillows as he covers you with his body and suddenly, the insecurity and anxiety from earlier flashes through your mind. You've never been with anyone who seemed to want to do anything but fuck you and then be done with it. This reverence for your body is completely foreign and the reality of what is about to happen crashes through the haze of lust that clouds your mind.

You must stiffen a bit because a frown appears on Lando's face as his arms cage you in and he hovers over you. “Baby?” 

You shake your head, refusing to let your insecurity ruin the night. Your eyes close and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I’m fine.” You whisper but Lando doesn’t believe you. He drops back onto his knees and straddles you, drawing back so he can see your entire face. 

“What’s wrong? We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not ready.” 

Your face heats, but from embarrassment this time. Fuck. You do not want to ruin this.

“No. It’s okay. I just…I’m just not used to this kind of attention.” You don’t tell him how your're used to being used for your body, for whatever pleasure your partner can get out of me and nothing more. You don’t tell him how insecure it makes you to think that he could do the same thing to you too, despite how safe and good he makes you feel no matter what. Sometimes, habits are hard to break. Especially habits that are born out of trauma. You can't tell him any of that though because you think it might break his heart. 

Lando tilts his head and seemingly understands what you're saying. “I don’t know what the fuck the guys in your life were thinking, having you in their bed and not treating you properly, but baby, I am not them. This is not about me, this is about you.” His fingers trace long, lazy lines from your shoulder down over your bra and continue down your body as you shudder with pleasure.

“That’s it." He coos. "I know you’re scared but I swear to you, you are safe with me.” His voice is barely a whisper but you can hear the sincerity in it. Your heart thunders in your chest as you hover between wanting to stop and throwing every bit of caution away and allowing him to do whatever he wants to you. 

“I know I am. I always have been.” You hum.

“Do you want to stop? You just have to say the word and we will. This is yours to control.” 

Your eyes search his for any trace of anger and when you find nothing but honesty in his face, you shake your head. “Please don’t stop.”

You desperately do not want him to stop. 

Once he’s sure you're okay, he crashes his mouth on yours once again and you melt into him. His body is so heavy on top of you but it feels oh so good. You never want it to end. You never want tonight to end. Lando presses kisses into your skin all down your body, starting at your jaw, moving slowly downwards. Kisses on that dip between your neck and shoulders, lower to your sternum, even lower to just above where your bra still sits. He stops then and snakes a hand behind you, lifting you up momentarily, and unclasps the back with surprising ease.

“Okay, that was way too easy for you.” You accuse, laughter bubbling up as he tosses the bra across the room. 

His eyes find yours and he shrugs casually, “What?” He feigns innocence, “Lucky first try?” 

“Oh, whatever. Get back to work.” You order, laughter teasing at the edge of your voice. 

Lando shakes his head again, dropping his head back where he had left off and turns his attention to one of your nipples, taking it fully in his mouth. You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation coursing through you. It feels like your skin is on fire, all leading down to a single throb between your legs. He hums in satisfaction when your back arches off the bed. A moan escapes your lips when he scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin, the pain sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. After what feels like an eternity, he turns his attention to the other nipple, already pebbled and hard, aching for the same attention. Your mind goes blank as you focus on the jolts of electricity coursing through your body. Your hands tangle in his curls, gripping at the tangles of brown hair, needing something to latch onto. 

“Lan.” His name is a whispered prayer on your lips. 

“Fuck. Baby.” He comes up for air briefly to look at you again and you almost can’t stand to look at him, he looks so good. His lips are swollen from kissing you for so long and he's got this heavy lidded, lustful hazy gaze in his eyes that you've never seen from him before.

“You taste so good.” He rasps before shifting back up to land kisses on your lips. You're so focused on what his lips are doing that you completely miss his fingers digging into your hips. You let out a startled cry when the sound of ripping fabric cuts through the breathy sighs that have filled the room. 

“Lando!” You whine, “I liked those!” You look at the torn bits of black lace that he’s dropped next to him on the bed and sigh dramatically.

“They were in my way. I’ll buy you fifty more tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, his hand dips down towards your pussy and anticipation climbs in you. You gasp when he sinks not one, but two fingers into the heat between your legs.  Your entire body aches off the bed towards his hand. “Christ. Baby. You are fucking soaked for me, aren’t you?” 

It’s all you can do to just nod an affirmation as he swirls his fingers in achingly slow circles. His thick fingers inch closer to your clit but manage to avoid it and you know he’s doing it on purpose. You wiggle your hips in search of that friction you crave so badly but every time you get close, he moves his fingers out of the way. By the fourth time this happens, you're a whimpering mess underneath him and Lando is clearly enjoying it. “Lando.” You whimper. “Touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” He drops another hot kiss on your jaw and traces his tongue down your neck. You swear you're going to explode from the sensations coursing through your body. 

“You know exactly what I fucking mean.” You snap and move your hips again, only to find his fingers just short of the destination you want them in yet again. 

An evil chuckle tickles your skin. “I like you like this. A pretty little mess underneath me. My girl is so wet for me, isn’t she?” 

His girl. The emotions crash through you at his words and every other thought beyond those two words leaves your brain. 

His girl. 

His girl. 

Your brain chants the all consuming phrase. 

Just when you think you can’t take it any more and you feel that familiar tug at the base of your spine and Lando finally gives you what you've been aching for. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit and your hips fly off the bed towards his fingers. A cry escapes your lips as you claw at his back. He keeps up the same pace and you can feel yourself barreling towards a delicious release.

“Please. Don’t. Stop.” You pant, breath coming in short gasps as you rock your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he keeps his hand exactly where it is and allows you to grind against it, knowing that this is exactly what you need from him. His lips come down on yours again and when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, you fly over the cliff.

Sweet release shatters your entire body and you stiffen against him. Your nails dig into his back, leaving little half moons embedded in his flesh. He’ll have red welts there for days and he couldn’t be happier about it. You don’t know how many times you cry out his name but he keeps completely still, allowing you to get the relief that you desperately need against him. 

When your orgasm subsides, you practically melt into the bed, mind too muddled with pleasure to talk. You open your eyes and grin lazily at Lando, who has shifted so he’s lying next to you on the bed. He’s grinning right back and tracing shiver-inducing lines up and down your naked skin.

“Fuck. Lando. That…” You are completely lost for words so it takes you a moment to form a complete sentence, “That was the first time anyones been able to make me come with just their fingers.” 

“Well, I’m glad I could be your first.” He smirks, dropping a kiss on your temple as he pulls you closer to him.

You turn to face him and you're struck at how handsome he is. His curly hair is messy from when you pulled at it while he was getting you off, his eyes glassy with satisfaction even though he hasn’t even come himself yet. He seems to get off just watching you and that is a completely foreign concept.

You reach out and feel the light stubble that covers his jaw, enjoying the rough feel against your fingers. You idly wonder what that stubble would feel like against your thighs and decide that you're just going to have to find out exactly what it feels like soon. That one single thought sends heat flooding through your veins once again and you're surprised. You've never considered myself to be one of those girls that could go several rounds. Usually you were finished after one orgasm, most of the time it was faked anyway. But with Lando laying next to you, you feel like you could do this for the rest of the night. A mischievous grin slips across your face as you reach over and push him back into the pillows.

Before you allow yourself to think about what you're doing, you straddle him and relish in the feeling of his dick that is now nudging against your ass. “I think I need you inside me now.” You tell him and squeal when his pupils blow and he flips you onto your back without warning. 

Hours later, you fall into such a deep sleep you don't notice Lando slip out of bed to get a drink of water from the bathroom. You'd spent the better part of the evening underneath him as he gradually worked you over so good you had lost count of how many times he had made you come.

The mattress dips when he joins you back in bed and Lando is surprised to find that he doesn't want to leave you. Up until meeting you, Lando had been more of a one night stand, never sleep over, kind of person when it came to sex. Getting back into bed with you and pulling you close so he could fall asleep with you tucked next to him was something he never thought he'd want but now that he had it, he knew he'd never be able to live without it again.

When Lando pulls you towards him, you stir a bit, enjoying the way the heat of his body warms your naked skin. You're so fucked out from everything Lando did to your body, your brain is a little sluggish but you turn into him, burying your head deep into his chest.

"You left me." You whine sleepily.

Lando slots his leg between yours, hitching your top leg up over his waist. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispers against your hair. "I needed a drink but I'm not going anywhere."

"I thought you left." In your sleepy haze, the words you probably would've tamped down slip out. "Please don't leave me."

Lando knows you're more than half asleep and probably don't realize what you're saying but something in your words has him feeling you don't just mean for the night. "I'm not going anywhere, sweet girl. Not ever." He whispers, listening to the soft cooing sound you make in response before you drift right back off to sleep.

Tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @glitteryturtledeer @mindless-rock @piastei-fvx

[dannyriccsystem]

45 with lando and oscar?👀

DOUBLE THE PLEASURES LIKE DOUBLE THE FUN!

1K SPECIAL - OP81 + LN4

Threesome

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, Oscar, seems oddly possessive lately. It’s putting a rift in the team, so you come up with a solution.

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

WARNINGS: Threesome, Smut, double penetration, implied Landoscar, slight hint of hate sex

FEATURING: Oscar Piastri x Reader x Lando Norris

NOTE: MEEEEEEEEEEEOWW. Also I didn’t do a great job with this one but. It’s not awful…

SOMETHING HAD BEEN BOTHERING OSCAR ALL DAY. He was quiet. Too quiet. Sure, the guy usually kept to himself, but around you he was considerably more open. However, right now Oscar seemed somewhat icy. He finished qualifying, landing at pole position. It should have been a major celebration, but Oscar wasn’t having it today.

You walked up behind where he sat, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his scalp. He grumbled under his breath. “What’s on your mind?” You asked softly, hands smoothing out the front of his shirt.

“Nothing,” He replied shortly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, that’s clearly not true.” You pulled back from him and walked around the sofa, seating yourself beside him. Oscar’s gaze drifted away and he gave a cold shrug. “Love, please talk to me.”

“Have you ever noticed how touchy Lando is?” He asked, still avoiding your gaze. You tilted your head in confusion. Was this jealousy, or discomfort? You had never seen your boyfriend jealous before. He was always so calm and collected, trusting you fully. But this was different, because it was his own teammate. Someone he knew personally.

“No? I think he’s just friendly.” You shrugged. Oscar sighed.

“No, it’s not that. He’s always so excited around you— Too excited. I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting but it feels like he’s expecting more from you.”

“Hm. Well, unfortunately for him, I’m not interested in anyone but my boyfriend.” You leaned in, planting a firm kiss on his lips. He smiled against you, seemingly satisfied with that.

You thought that would be the end, then. But it wasn’t.

Of course it wasn’t.

You could notice the bad blood on Oscar’s part over the next few days. Every time Lando said anything, he was met with a rather bitter response from his teammate, or even a sarcastic eye roll. One day you even walked in on them arguing, and that was just your breaking point.

“Enough!” You yelled out, catching both of them off guard. They looked towards you, frozen in place. “I’m sick of you two acting all weird. What is going on?!”

“Well, Lando clearly has a thing for you!”

“Yeah, you know what, Oscar? I do!” Lando yelled back, standing up. Your eyes widened, and your gaze flew to your boyfriend, who was nearly seething. You had never seen him angry before. “I liked her way longer than you did!”

“Are you fucking-”

“Oh my God. Both of you, shut up!” You huffed, throwing your hands up in the air. “Clearly you need to work this out somehow. Like…”

The room fell silent as you slowly smirked, your gaze shifting between the two of them. They stared at you, and then at each other.

YOUR GRAND IDEA WASN’T WHAT YOU EXPECTED. Of course they both agreed: Lando would get one chance at a threesome, one chance to impress you, and then after that he’d just have to move on. Except in your head you weren’t exactly imagining yourself sandwiched between the two of them, Oscar instructing his teammate on how to pleasure you.

You were lifted up, your legs on either side of Lando’s hips. Oscar held you up from behind.

“Idiot,” Your boyfriend seethed. “You can’t just shove it in, you have to go slow…” You leaned back against him, his strong arms supporting you. He pressed a kiss to your scalp, muttering, “You’re doing so good.”

“Sorry,” Lando mumbled. He held your hip, his other hand slowly guiding his cock to your entrance again. He pushed the tip past your folds, which were wet with Oscar’s saliva already. He bit his lip to stifle a groan as he gently slid his way in. You moaned, tossing your head back with a giggle.

“Feel good?” Oscar asked, his hands reassuringly squeezing your breasts. You nodded while forcing your eyes open to look into his. He still seemed somewhat pent up, like he was waiting to get his anger out too.

“Shit, it’s tight,” Lando grunted, sheathing his length all the way inside your hole. You whined, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders to anchor yourself. Oscar still held you up, his hands wandering over your naked body.

“Go slow,” Oscar instructed. He placed his chin atop your head, watching with a calculating gaze as Lando began to thrust in and out. You whined, your body instinctively pressing back against Oscar’s chest. “I got you,” He whispered, pressing kisses along the back of your neck.

“Faster,” You choked out. Lando looked up, his eyes seeking out Oscar’s instead of yours. Your boyfriend nodded, and he picked up the pace. With every thrust, your body grew more and more weak to his touch. He definitely wasn’t as good as your boyfriend, but Oscar knew his way around by now. He knew every little sensitive spot that made you melt. Which is why you tilted your head back, eyes droopy and mouth agape.

“Hm?” He hummed, brushing a strand of hair, damp with sweat, away from your forehead. You pulled him down for an upside down kiss.

“I want you inside me,” You stuttered, barely able to get the words out. Lando continued his movements, oblivious to your side conversation. He just needed that quick pleasure, desperate for release.

“Are you sure you can handle two, love?” He stared at you with adoration. For a moment, you completely forgot about the other ministrations happening below you. You nodded weakly, and Oscar shrugged. “Alright.”

He shuffled out of his pants and boxers, slowly sliding in his cock beside Lando’s. It took a bit of patience, waiting for your hole to stretch out enough to fit his length inside. He held you softly, whispering words of praise in your ear nonstop. Your whole body shuddered, your first orgasm of the night washing over you just as Oscar squeezed his way in.

It felt incredible. For you, for Oscar, for Lando. The room immediately got loud with moans from all three of you. Lando was getting close, but he continued pushing because he wanted to outlast his teammate.

“You feel so good, love,” Oscar whined in your ear. Lando grunted in agreement, pulling your body closer to him. Oscar helped push you forward, your arms wrapped around Lando’s neck. Your chests were pushed together, and your boyfriend’s chest was flush to your back.

“I think I’m gonna-” Lando spluttered, his statement cut off by a deep, guttural groan.

“Come,” Oscar instructed, locking eyes with his teammate. Lando looked to him for approval. “Not inside, stupid.” His teammate fumbled as he pulled out. Your hand stroked him, helping the poor guy release onto your stomach. You giggled, your mind completely cock drunk at this point.

“Osc,” You cried out as he continued to fuck into you from behind. Lando was rubbing his softening cock against your bare thighs, still propping you up from the front.

“I’m close,” He whispered, his pace growing more rough. You came first, and Oscar helped you ride out your high before he spilled deep inside you. He pulled out, his cum dripping from your hole. You collapsed, and he slowly scooped your weak body into his arms, laying you down on the hotel mattress behind him. “You did so good, baby.”

Lando, without even being instructed to, ran off to get a towel to help clean you up. Oscar laid beside you, holding you close to his body as he peppered your face and neck in soft kisses. You hummed in delight.

“He didn’t do too bad.”

“Yeah?” He massaged your sore hips, kneading the muscle with his strong hands.

“Yeah.”

“Well maybe we can invite him again sometime.” Seems like your boyfriend went from jealous to needy in the span of an hour.

[linoxpudding]

Written In The Stars- Lee Know

summary: he's your soulmate, but he's already in love with someone else

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: angst, soulmate au, unrequited love

word count: 1828 words

a/n: this was requested, really loved this concept— should I do part 2? 👀

PART 2

Masterlist

~°~

You had always dreamed of meeting your soulmate. As a hopeless romantic, you had imagined it all—the instant connection, the rush of emotions, the realization that this was the person meant for you.

From the time you were little, you'd trace the blank space on your wrist, imagining the mark that would one day bloom there—the sign of your destined person. Stories of soulmates finding each other had filled your heart with longing, whispering promises of a love so deep, so undeniable, that nothing could stand in its way.

And then on a fateful morning, three months after you turned thirteen, it happened.

A delicate star-shaped pattern shimmered on your wrist, fading from golden light into solid ink.

This was it.

Your breath had caught in your throat, your heart pounding as you traced over the pattern with shaking fingers. It was real.

Your soulmate was out there.

And you were going to find them.

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

You had spent years searching—watching, waiting, hoping. But soulmarks were unpredictable. Some people found their destined person right away. Others searched for years, only to meet their soulmate at the most unexpected moment.

For you, it happened through Bang Chan.

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

You had known Chan for a while now, having met through mutual friends, and occasionally you hung out with his group that consisted of your mutual friends from college. One evening, he invited you over for a casual get-together at his place. You had no idea how much your life was about to change.

When you arrived, laughter and conversation filled the apartment. People greeted you warmly, but your attention was drawn to him.

Lee Minho. 

There was something about him that intrigued you. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, confident yet not overbearing. Maybe it was his sharp eyes that held mischief and mystery. He was handsome, almost unfairly so, with an aura that pulled attention effortlessly.

The moment you met, there was some sort of instant spark. 

As the night went on, he was leaning back in his chair, eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched you argue with Jisung, another close friend of Chan that he introduced you to, over some ridiculous topic. And then he joined in.

The two of you had gone back and forth for at least ten minutes, teasing and taunting each other like you had known each other for years.

“Wow,” Minho had finally said, crossing his arms with a smirk, “Chan, where have you been hiding this one?”

Chan had laughed, “Right? I knew you two would get along.”

And from that moment on, you did.

The banter was easy, natural, like a rhythm you had both unknowingly fallen into. He would throw a jab, and you would return it without missing a beat. It became something of a game— one that neither of you acknowledged but played anyway. 

After that night at Chan’s place, you and Minho exchanged numbers, a silent agreement to keep in touch. But life was busy— too busy for long conversations or one-on-one meetings. Your interactions were limited to occasional group hangouts, fleeting moments where you’d exchange teasing remarks and match each other’s humor effortlessly.

For a while that was enough, until you saw the mark.

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

It happened weeks later, on a movie night at Changbin and Hyunjin’s place. It was a casual kind of movie night where everyone showed up in sweats, curled into couches with blankets draped over their laps, trading playful jabs between mouthfuls of popcorn. The air smelled like butter and cinnamon-scented candles, and the TV flickered with a half-watched movie as conversations overlapped.

Minho sat across from you, comfortably leaning into the cushions, his usual smirk in place as he fired off another joke. The room erupted into laughter, but yours was the loudest— it always was when it came to him. It was effortless, the way the two of you fell into banter, the way he made you laugh like no one else could.

And then, in the midst of it all, he reached for his coffee.

It was such a small thing, so inconsequential, yet it changed everything.

His sleeve rode up slightly, exposing the inside of his wrist for the briefest moment. But that moment was enough.

Your laughter faded. Your pulse stilled.

Because there, etched into his skin, was your mark.

The very same pattern you had spent your whole life tracing absentmindedly, the one you had dreamed of seeing on someone else one day. On your soulmate.

Lee Minho was your soulmate.

The world should have stopped. This should have been the moment where everything clicked into place, where the universe finally made sense. But before the thought could fully form, a voice cut through the haze.

“Sorry, babe. I’m late.”

A woman appeared beside him, her tone light, affectionate. She leaned in without hesitation, pressing a kiss to his lips as her hand came to rest on his shoulder like she had done it a hundred times before.

Minho turned to her, his smirk softening into something warmer, something real. It was love.

You thought you knew him well enough. Well enough to anticipate his dry jokes, to recognize the mischievous glint in his eye before he spoke. But clearly not well enough to know he had a girlfriend.

And that was when you knew. Minho wasn’t waiting for a soulmate. Because he was already in love with someone else.

You barely remembered the rest of that night. You smiled, you laughed when appropriate, you responded to conversations, but your mind was elsewhere. On him. On her. On the way he looked at her, touched her, stood beside her like she was his world.

And that realization destroyed you.

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

You told yourself it didn’t matter.

The mark wasn’t a command. It wasn’t a guarantee of love, just a promise that this was the person who was meant to understand you like no one else could.

So you stayed.

Not because you were waiting. Not because you were hoping. But because leaving felt impossible.

Chan’s group became your own, and Minho was always there—laughing, teasing, existing so effortlessly in your world. 

At first, it was unbearable.

Every time he absentmindedly rubbed the mark on his wrist, a quiet frown flickering across his face, your stomach twisted. Did he feel it too? Did he ever wonder?

But then his girlfriend would call, and he would answer with a voice so gentle it made you want to scream.

She was perfect. Kind, beautiful, talented, and Minho loved her. He was happy.

And you? You were just his friend with the same mark.

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

The months that followed felt like moving through water—slow, heavy, suffocating.

You tried convincing yourself that nothing had changed. That Minho was still just a friend, a fleeting presence in your life, someone you saw in passing at group hangouts and laughed with over inside jokes. But knowing the truth made every interaction feel heavier, every lingering glance, every easy banter laced with something you couldn’t ignore.

And yet, he remained blissfully unaware. He didn’t know. He didn’t see.

Not until that night.

The party at your friend’s penthouse was loud, the music thrumming through the walls, laughter and conversation bleeding together into a dull hum. But you weren’t part of it. Instead, you stood in the dimly lit kitchen, gripping the counter so tightly your knuckles turned white, trying to steady yourself against the weight in your chest.

You weren’t sure why you had come. Maybe some part of you still craved the normalcy of being around him, of pretending nothing had changed. Maybe you were just tired of avoiding him.

“Hey,” he greeted you, entering the kitchen. His voice was soft, but it made your stomach drop, “You're still here?”

You didn’t turn right away. You couldn’t. You replied weakly, “Yeah, needed a breather.”

He hummed, reaching for a glass of water. His movements were effortless, casual—until he caught sight of your wrist.

His body went rigid beside you. His eyes flickered from your mark to his own. You felt it before you saw it— the way the air shifted, the sharp intake of his breath, the stillness that settled between you like a physical thing. 

You felt your chest tighten.

“…It’s you,” he whispered.

Slowly, hesitantly, you followed his gaze down to your wrist.

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

You watched as realization hit him like a crashing wave, his expression flickering through shock, confusion, and something deeper—something you didn’t want to name.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

And then, finally, he did.

“But…” His voice was quiet, almost fragile. He swallowed, staring at you like he wished he could unsee it. “But I love her.”

Three words.

Three words that carved into you deeper than you thought possible.

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, to absorb the quiet devastation in his eyes— the same devastation mirrored in your own.

“I know,” you said, offering him a small, trembling smile. “I know, it's okay.”

His head snapped up, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “No, it’s not.”

And that was the difference between you.

You had spent weeks coming to terms with the inevitable, had learned to swallow down the ache every time you saw him with her. But for him, this was the first time. This was his moment of realization, and it was breaking him apart in real time.

His voice was rough when he spoke again, like he was fighting against something he didn’t understand. “How long have you known?”

Your lips parted, the answer lingering on the tip of your tongue. But what would that change?

“Does it matter?” you asked softly, finally meeting his gaze.

His jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with frustration— at you, at himself, at the cruel twist of fate that had led you here.

“I should’ve known,” he muttered, shaking his head, his voice filled with something raw and painful. “I should have—”

“Minho.”

Your voice was steadier than you felt. He looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see it—the weight of it, the way his heart and mind waged a silent war.

He didn’t want to hurt you. But he loved her.

You reached for him before you could stop yourself, your fingers just barely brushing against his wrist before pulling away. A silent offering. A silent goodbye.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, softer this time. “You love her.”

And that was the end of it.

Minho exhaled, a shaky, uneven breath. He opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, anything, but no words came.

There was nothing left to say.

So you smiled, even as your heart cracked, even as you felt the finality of it settle into your bones. And then you turned, slipping out of the kitchen and back into the party, leaving Minho alone with the mark that had changed everything.

Minho was never meant to be yours.

-----------------

Taglist:

@kaiyaba @lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @vietjeb @my-neurodivergent-world

[casssmalefantasy]

off mute (part two) — paige bueckers x reader!

s: after the chaotic tiktok live, you can’t stop replaying the moment with paige in your head. flirty dms have only fueled the tension, but when you find yourself at a uconn game in the student section, paige notices you—and she’s not letting it slide.

w: smut, heavy teasing, dominance, exhibitionism (in private setting), tension-filled, public flirting, dirty talk, unprotected (in text).

word count: 4.5K (mmh yup)

part one of off mute!

author’s note: yall wanted a part two so i hope you enjoy it <3

it’s been days since that tiktok live. you keep replaying the moment in your head—the way paige smiled when she noticed you on screen, the playful comments, the slight teasing that never quite crossed the line. she hasn’t messaged you since that night, but you can’t shake the feeling she’s thinking about it just as much as you are. maybe more.

the dms from paige were casual, but you felt the weight behind them.

paigebueckers:

you got pipes fr fr.

might need a private concert sometime 👀

and you... well, you couldn't help but play along

yourusername:

maybe I'll take you up on that 😁

nothing too serious. just hints.

then today, out of nowhere, your friend texts you, asking if you wanna go to the uconn game with her. she has an extra ticket—her boyfriend was supposed to come, but he ended up getting sick last-minute—and, well, she knows you’re a big fan.

so, here you are.

your friend’s off grabbing snacks for the both of you, and you’re sitting in the student section, alone, feeling way more out of place than you thought you’d feel. you’re surrounded by people chanting, jumping, waving pom-poms, you didn’t expect the student section to feel so…different.

but, here you are.

and then it happens.

you look up, and your eyes lock with hers.

paige.

she’s on the court, obviously. doing her thing, looking like she was born for the spotlight. she catches your gaze across the arena and doesn't look away. there’s a moment—just a second—but it's enough for you to feel the heat rise in your chest, the way her eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of recognition, something unreadable.

it makes your heart skip.

the game continues, but you’re hardly watching. instead, you’re staring at paige every time she gets the ball, the way she moves, the way she owns the court. every now and then, you catch her glancing back at you—maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’re pretty sure she’s doing it on purpose.

then the game ends. uconn wins. the crowd goes wild.

you stand up, but something’s off. there’s an undeniable pull in your chest, and you can’t ignore it. paige’s on the court now, high-fiving teammates, walking toward the locker room, but she pauses when she sees you again.

you lock eyes one more time.

this time, she doesn’t look away.

you try to shake off the nervous energy, turning to your friend who already moved to the side to call her boyfriend. someone’s walking toward you. and then, before you know it, paige’s standing right in front of you.

“hey,” she says, leaning casually against the railing in front of you. her voice is smooth, confident, like she’s in control of this entire situation.

“hey,” you respond, trying not to sound too eager, but you’re not fooling anyone—not even yourself.

“you here alone?” paige asks, raising an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this.

“nah, my friend’s around here somewhere. she’s checking in on her boyfriend that got sick.,” you explain, trying to play it cool, but your heart’s racing.

paige smirks. “that’s good. wouldn’t want you to be distracted.”

her words hit you harder than you expect. your breath catches, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “distracted by what?”

“me, obviously,” she replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink. okay, now she’s pushing all the right buttons.

before you can respond, someone from the team calls for her. paige glances over her shoulder, but not before shooting you a quick, teasing smile. “guess i’ll see you around, then,” she says, giving you a once-over before walking away.

you watch her walk off, the sway of her hips hypnotic, her jersey hugging her figure in ways you’re not supposed to notice at a public game.

but you do.

and you can’t shake the feeling that this is far from over.

—

later that night, you’re sitting on your bed, texting your friend about the game—well, mostly just trying to keep your cool, pretending you weren’t absolutely losing it when paige smiled at you.

you unlock your phone, ready to send a reply when—

new message from paigebueckers

you freeze.

paigebueckers:

you look good out there tn. i couldn’t stop looking at you ngl.

yourusername:

you couldn’t stop looking at me? why’s that?”

paigebueckers:

don’t act like you don’t know. i can tell when a pretty girl is staring at me.

you don’t respond right away. instead, you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. this is happening.

yourusername:

oh? i was trying not to stare, but obviously i failed.

paigebueckers:

yeah? i’m glad you did tho, even tho i was the one who couldn’t look away.

you bite your lip. this is flirting—serious flirting—and it’s happening in real time.

yourusername:

maybe we should test it out sometime. see if we can’t look away from each other.

paigebueckers:

mmh maybe we should. tell you what—come by my dorm tomorrow. we’ll see if you can keep your eyes off me then.

yourusername:

are you being serious rn?

paigebueckers:

yeah. i wanna put your message to the test. so come.

your breath hitches.

yourusername:

text me the address and i’ll be there.

—

the next day, you’re outside paige’s dorm, feeling the weight of every step as you walk toward the door. you can already feel the anticipation building in your chest, but you’re not about to turn back now.

you knock.

a moment later, the door swings open. paige stands there in sweats, her hair pulled back loosely, a casual smile on her face.

“you actually came,” she says, stepping aside to let you in.

“of course,” you reply, voice low. “you said you wanted to test it out, right?”

paige grins, closing the door behind you. “oh, trust me. i plan to.”

before you can say another word, she’s on you—pushing you back against the door, her lips crashing onto yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

her kiss is deep, needy, like she’s been waiting for this moment too. her hands move to your waist, sliding under your shirt to pull you closer. you’re already melting, body pressing into hers with a desperate urgency.

“you’ve been teasing me since the minute we locked eyes. ,” she murmurs between kisses, her voice rough with desire.

your fingers tangle in her hair as you pull her even closer, grinding into her. “i’m just getting started.”

she pushes you toward the couch, and without warning, her hands are all over you—touching, exploring, making sure you feel every inch of her dominance. her fingers slide down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them and slipping them off.

"you're gonna be so fucking good for me," she murmurs, voice dripping with lust, so low it feels like it was meant for your skin instead of your ears.

you barely have time to respond before she’s on you again, her lips trailing fire down your neck, between your breasts, nipping, licking, biting — like she’s memorizing every inch. her hands are everywhere, possessive and sure, like she’s staking a claim.

the way she moves — so confident, so in control — makes your pulse race. you feel caged in the best way, like there’s nowhere to run, like she’s not gonna let you come up for air until she’s good and ready.

"look at me," she commands, her voice razor-sharp and dripping with want. her eyes dark and blown. "i want you to keep your eyes on me the whole time. understand?"

you nod, breathless, completely gone already — but she doesn’t wait for words. she never does.

her fingers slip inside you with devastating precision, curling just right, her thumb pressing against your clit like she’s been dreaming about this — about you — for longer than she’d ever admit. your hips buck into her hand, a moan ripped straight from your throat.

"that’s it," she purrs. "already so fucking wet for me. this is mine now."

she curls her fingers again, deeper, harder this time, and you cry out, your hands fisting the sheets — or maybe her hoodie, you can’t tell anymore. her mouth finds yours again, hungry and bruising, swallowing your sounds like she wants to taste how wrecked she’s making you.

“don’t look away,” she warns, pulling back just enough to watch your face as her fingers pump into you faster, harder. “i wanna see everything. every little reaction.”

your legs are shaking, your body arching off the bed, and she’s still watching you, obsessed, lips parted like she might lose her mind just from watching you fall apart.

"you’re taking me so fucking well,” she groans, thumb circling your clit faster now. “don’t come yet.”

you whimper, desperate, on the edge, but her voice drops to a whisper — dark, delicious, dangerous— right against your mouth:

“you come when i say, baby. not a second before.”

you nod, or try to, but your body’s barely holding itself together. her fingers don’t stop — they keep moving, slow now, teasing, like she knows exactly what you need and she’s edging you on purpose.

she leans down again, lips brushing your ear. “you wanna come so bad, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot, her voice pure sin. “i can feel it. how close you are. but you’re gonna wait. for me.”

your hips jerk up, your mouth opening in a soundless gasp when she suddenly pulls her fingers out — and you almost cry from the loss.

"shhh," she coos, kissing your hip. "don’t worry. i’m not done with you. not even close."

you watch, breath hitching, as she lowers herself between your legs. her hands spread your thighs apart like she owns them — like she owns you— and her eyes flick up, meeting yours again.

“eyes on me,” she reminds you, smirking.

then her mouth is on you.

your whole body arches, a sob tearing out of your chest as her tongue flicks, slow and devastating. she eats you out like it’s her favorite thing in the world — like she’s starved for it, like she’s been waiting to do this, and now she’s not holding back.

she moans into you, and the sound vibrates straight through your core. her grip tightens on your thighs, holding you still, her mouth relentless — her tongue circling your clit, dipping down, then coming back up with maddening precision.

you’re barely breathing. your hands are in her hair now, gripping, pulling, but it only makes her groan again, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through you.

"fuck—paige, please," you pant, toes curling, voice breaking.

she pulls back just enough to speak, lips slick with you. “you sound so pretty when you beg,” she says, and her smirk turns dangerous. “but you still don’t come until i say.”

you nod frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels — how much you need to let go.

and then, just when you think she might keep edging you forever, she sinks two fingers back inside, curling hard against that spot, her mouth sucking your clit, fast, focused, merciless.

“cum for me, baby,” she growls. “right now.”

and you do.

it rips through you like lightning, your whole body shaking, your legs trembling around her shoulders. she doesn’t stop — not through your orgasm, not even after — like she wants to drag every last drop of pleasure out of you.

by the time she finally pulls back, your chest is heaving, your vision is blurry, and your body’s still twitching.

she kisses her way back up your body, slow and deliberate, until she’s hovering over you again, lips swollen, pupils blown wide.

"you’re perfect like this," she murmurs, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “wrecked and all mine.”

—

your body’s still humming, warm and shaky as she settles beside you, tugging you into her like she didn’t just ruin you ten minutes ago. her hand traces slow, aimless shapes along your spine, lips pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

it’s quiet for a beat—the kind of quiet that feels thick with everything unsaid. everything that just happened.

“so…” she finally murmurs, smirking into your skin. “that voice of yours…”

you groan, already burying your face in her neck. “don’t start.”

“what? i’m just saying. you were singing all soft and pretty on that live,” she says, clearly enjoying this. “and then you were being loud for me. kinda poetic, honestly.”

you swat at her half-heartedly, but she just laughs, pulling you closer. “i’m serious. you’ve got range, baby.”

you’re still trying to come up with a comeback— something clever, when her phone buzzes on the nightstand.

she sighs, reaching over, still half tangled with you. one look at the screen and she snorts, groaning as she flips it to show you:

camera arnold 📸:

y’all nasty. i had my airpods in and STILL heard you.

you choke on your own breath, clutching the pillow as you laugh and hide your face.

“oh my god,*” you wheeze. “i’m never showing my face again.”

paige’s grin is way too pleased with herself. “that’s crazy,” she says, tossing her phone aside and rolling on top of you again. “’cause i was just about to say how proud i am.”

you raise a brow. “proud?”

“mhm.” she kisses your cheek. “of how loud you were.”

you groan. “i’m leaving.”

“no you’re not.”

she kisses you again—and okay, maybe you’re not.

tags: @angelliicc @syraxsbigfanfr @lyzsaphrodite (here you go bestiesss)

[venusbyline]

What are your thoughts on somnoph*lia? 👀

Cause I personally can see Aemond doing this to his older sister, more than Aegon (he too, would get too excited and wake his older sister up)

Like Aemond would creep into her room and at first be too afraid to do something else than just pulling her nightgown down her chest and looking, but then he'll get bolder, maybe even slipping some poppy's milk on her big sister's water just to make sure he can have more fun (like finally tasting her)

I can also see Jace doing that, but just as Aegon, would grow bold too quickly and wake his sister up.

Omfgggg now I'm having so many horny thoughts cuz I saw the vision 🤭🤭 somnophilia is one of my fav kinks, and non-con somnophilia is one of my favorite things to write and read too!!!

⚠️: Targcest (younger brother/older sister), non-con somnophilia, rape/non-con, voyeurism, inappropriate use of milk of the poppy, virginity kink, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), dry humping, spoons position, missionary position.

Out of the three of them, Aemond is probably the one who would take somnophilia more literally. He would do everything he could to make sure his older sister would not wake up in the middle of the act, both because he is genuinely turned on by the idea of tasting her while she sleeps, but also because he does not want her to find out what a freaky pervert he is. And he does all of this little by little.

He always puts milk of the poppy in her drink before she goes to sleep, because Aemond is a gentle brother and always brings something for his older sister to eat and drink before the two of them went to their respective chambers. He is such a sweet younger brother, despite being quiet and reserved, that she did not even suspect that she was being fooled by him all those days.

Aemond started by telling himself that he just wanted to look. Then during the first night, after he was sure his sister was completely asleep, he just untied her white nightgown enough to expose her breasts. He looked at her as if she were the most beautiful painting in the world and started to jerking off, taking so much care not to let out any loud groans. From the third night on, Aemond felt kinda bolder, he opened that part of the fabric and also lifted her nightgown's skirt up, turning his sister's body to the front and admiring the golden hairs of her cunt. He knew she was a maiden, a true demure lady... So Aemond caressed there meticulously, his long thin fingers rubbing her clit until it was swollen and sticky, his hand lowering to her entrance, inserting one finger and more one later, moving them with slowness, but firmly enough to make her let out low unconscious whimpers. Sometimes Aemond managed to eat her out if she was already tired enough to even move in the sleep.

Whenever his older sister woke up the next day and joined the family for breakfast, Aemond's eyes were fixed on her and how the pretty girl always seemed to be in pain. Sometimes, he could even listen to her whispering to Helaena about the random pain in her lower parts, and Helaena would just frown and stared at Aemond with obvious suspicious. The younger one always just shrugged as if nothing had happened... after all, no one but him had ever believed in Helaena's revelatory dreams.

Aegon is Aegon, he is a self-confessed pervert and would not even try to give her milk of the poppy or anything to help her get sleepier and weaker. He simply invaded his older sister's private chambers at night, probably because he was drunk and still horny after the usual fun at the brothel, feeling more impulsive to satisfy his disgusting desire.

He took off his own clothes and lay down next to her, lifting the girl's nightgown and rubbing himself against her ass, his large hand leaving red marks from squeezing the soft skin of her breasts after he pulled them out.

Aegon wanted his sister to wake up. He wanted her to see how perverted he was, he wanted her to know how much he desired her. That was why he did not even care when the girl opened her eyes in panic. Aegon just covered her mouth from behind, telling her to be quiet and pretending to be a loving brother while he kissed her neck and whispered words of comfort before finally thrusting inside her.

Jace is a noble boy, or at least that is what everyone thinks. At least that was what he told himself before breaking into his older sister's chambers. He tried to convince himself that he was not a pervert. He tried to convince himself that his sister would actually like all of that. After all, they are betrothed to each other, he was just... Watching what will be rightfully his.

To be honest, Jacaerys did not remember the milk of the poppy too. It was an impulsive decision that he should have discarded right away, but then it was too late. He was kinder than Aegon, though. He leans in to check out his sister's body, enjoying the sight of her chest and her pretty little cunt in the moonlight streaming through the window, and then... He messed everything up.

He was so inexperienced, too eager. Jace knew he should have started slowly, savoring her unconsciousness little by little. However, the moment he rubbed the tip of his rosy and needy cock against her still-dry cunt, he realized how much fucked up he was. Her eyes were wide with fear and Jacaerys had to tearfully beg his older sister not to tell their mother. He was not a pervert, right?

[deansbeer]

girl we need more dad!bod dean! how about dean and reader taking a shower and he's hesitant about it─'cause he thinks he's crowding reader and not being able to fit into the shower because of his size─but then fem!reader eases his insecurities and it leads to shower smut? 😶‍🌫️

i wrote the first part around 2am, but gave up halfway because i got distracted on jai 👀 but i finally finished it 🫶

ⓘ warning(s). soft smut, fem!reader, shower sex, body insecurities, dad bod!dean, gentle dom!reader, praising, riding, lots of love and care, emotional vulnerability.

dad bod!dean 1

the shower's already running when you call for him. steam curling out from behind the curtain, the soft scent of your shampoo lingering in the air. you're waiting, warm water slipping down your shoulders, arms stretched back lazily against the tile as you listen for the sound of his footsteps.

he lingers just outside the bathroom, hesitant, like he's not sure if you meant it when you told him to come join you. and when he finally pushes the door open, eyes flicking toward the curtain, he sounds… unsure.

"you sure about this, baby?" he asks, voice low and a little rough, like it's caught somewhere between desire and doubt. "i ain't exactly built for two-person showers these days."

you smile softly, even if he can't see it. "dean, baby, c'mon. water's perfect. and so are you."

a beat. then another.

"i just—i don't wanna crowd you," he mutters, closer now, voice quieter. "damn thing barely fit me on my own. now i got this—" he gestures vaguely, probably at his stomach, his broader frame, the way his body's softened with time and comfort and years of hard living — and maybe a few too many beers and late-night burgers. "might knock you over just tryin' to soap up."

you pull the curtain open partway, blink through the steam, and find him standing there in his boxers, shirt clutched loosely in one hand, hair already mussed from running his fingers through it too many times. he looks good. so good it aches, honestly. strong arms, soft belly, that solid, real body you've come to crave more than anything else. but his eyes won't quite meet yours, and that’s what gets you.

"dean," you say gently, stretching your hand out toward him. "get in here."

he hesitates, then steps out of his boxers and into the shower, careful like he's afraid he's going to break something. you shift back, giving him room, turning around to face the water as he settles in behind you. his body's warm even under the hot spray, and when your back meets his chest, he exhales into your shoulder like it's the first time he's breathed all day.

"see?" you murmur, reaching behind to rest your hand over his hip. "fits just fine to me."

"barely," he huffs, half a laugh, but it's still tinged with doubt.

you turn around slowly, water cascading down both your bodies now, and press your palms to his chest. his skin's warm and damp under your touch, soft in places, firm in others. you lean in, kiss the hollow of his throat, your fingers tracing down the curve of his stomach, the dip of his waist, the thick muscles of his arms.

"i love this," you whisper, lips brushing his collarbone. "i love you like this."

he groans under his breath, trying to look away, but you catch his jaw, make him meet your eyes. "don't do that," you murmur. "don't act like you don't know what you do to me."

his throat bobs as he swallows, and you feel him start to harden between you, your bodies slick and close under the water. he doesn't say anything, so you keep going, hands sliding down his chest, over the soft curve of his stomach, until your fingers wrap around him.

"you're sexy as hell, dean," you whisper, stroking him slow, deliberate. "always have been. but this—" your hand tightens just a little, "this right here? the way you've filled out? it drives me crazy."

his breath catches, hands gripping your waist now, holding you steady as you stroke him, your bodies pressed close, mouths brushing but not quite kissing. he's already hard in your hand, twitching against your palm, and when you lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, he finally lets out a soft, broken sound that makes heat pool low in your belly.

you guide him to sit on the little bench built into the shower wall, straddling his lap carefully, your knees resting on either side of his thick thighs.

"holy shit," he mutters, looking up at you like he can't believe this is real. "you're somethin' else, sweetheart."

you just smile, lining him up and sinking down slow, letting him fill you inch by perfect inch. he groans, head falling back against the tile wall, hands trembling where they grip your hips.

"jesus, baby," he breathes. "y'feel so good."

you start to move, water washing over both of you in waves, your pace slow and deep, rolling your hips with purpose. every time you take him deeper, every time you clench around him just right, his hands grip you tighter, mouth spilling praise and curses in equal measure.

"look at me, honey," you whisper, cupping his face. "look how good you make me feel. how perfect you are."

he does — and he sees it this time. sees the way your eyes flutter, the way your lips part, the way your body moves with his like you were made to fit together, no matter how small the space.

he forgets about the size of the shower. forgets about the way his body's changed. forgets everything but the way you ride him like he's everything you've ever wanted.

because you do. you want all of him. always.

and in that moment, soaked and breathless, with your body wrapped around his and your praises echoing in his ears, he finally believes it too.

you didn't need space.

you just needed him.

[rosenclaws]

Hii, I saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you could maybe write like slow burn smut for Logan in X-men days of futures past? I was thinking a mutant! reader in their early-mid twenties who are inexperienced and very shy/quiet. They also have powers similar to Jean grey. One night Logan and the reader are left alone in the mansion and during an innocent game of drunk 21 questions, the reader accidentally gets a glimpse of what's on Logan's mind 👀

Sorry if that's too detailed, I had a dream like this recently and I can't stop thinking of it 😭 it's okay if you don't wanna :) tysm 💞

a/n: Hi! So I hope it's okay but I didn't make this a full on smut fic. I can do a part two if you really want but I ended up making this a little different. It's a little angstier and there's spice at the end but no full on smut. I hope it's enough!

warnings: fem!reader, spicy makeout, teasing, flirting, fluff, angst.

You couldn't stop staring. Just who the hell was this man? When you had opened the door you were met with the handsome stranger. Tight denim pants and that brown leather jacket. You couldn't even answer his question. Too busy staring him down. He smirked and took off his sunglasses, leaning against the door until your faces were inches apart.

"Like what you see sweetheart?" You could barely stutter out a response before Hank and pushed you to the side and took over. Telling you to go back to the lab. With a roll of your eyes you went away.

See you had been at the mansion for years now. It was your only hope and even with it being pretty much abandoned Charles and Hank let you stay. You honed your powers while helping out around the place. It wasn't until dinner time that you finally learned what the hell was going on. The mans name was Logan and he was here to save the world from a future where mutants are being hunted into extinction.

At first you laughed, thought he was full of shit but then you peered into his mind. Only for a moment and saw it. You weren't laughing after that. So now he's sitting in your kitchen drinking beer. You were watching him from the door. Was it creepy? Yes but you couldn't stop yourself.

"You can come out now sweets, I'm not gonna bite." He looks over at you and you hide behind the door. Embarrassment creeping over you as you shyly peek your head out. He was looking at you completely unamused.

"Sorry, I got curious." He smirks and pats the seat next to him. Quietly you join him. Tapping the counter as he sits there silently. He offers you a sip of his beer and you take it.

"Blech." You scrunch your nose up. You never liked beer so you don't know why you thought this time would be different. Logan laughs and takes another sip.

"So, what were you curious about?" You stare at the counter as answer him. You can't look at him, he's too intimidating.

"Everything. Did you really come here from the future?"

"You saw in my head didn't you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. You had no clue he knew about that. Normally people can't tell and you do try to stay out of peoples minds but you couldn't resist.

"I'm so sorry I-" You're cut off by Logan's chuckle.

"You say sorry too much sweets."

"Sorry." He raises an eyebrow and smiles fondly.

The way he looks at you is strange. He doesn't seem like the friendly type and you had just met him so why is he being so nice to you.

"Am I alive in your future?" Logan's face falls, just for a moment. He covers it back up with that handsome smirk but you saw it.

"Tell you what, you get me another beer and I'll answer any questions you have." He sets down the empty bottle and waits. You open the fridge with your powers and summon a bottle of beer. He goes to reach it but you pull back.

"Ah, you answer my question first." He rolls his eyes and makes another grab for it but you move it out of both your reaches.

"As stubborn as always." He shakes his head.

"You're alive." He keeps it short. Not wanting to explain that the last time he saw you he held on so tight he almost ripped your suit. Knowing you were going into battle to protect him, to make sure he could finish the mission. You slowly bring the bottle back and hand it to him.

"So what happened? Why did they send you back? How do you know me? What's your mutation?"

"Okay okay one at a time Jesus." He answers your first question without words. Popping out metal claws from hands to take off the bottle cap.

"Woah." You reach out to touch them but he sheathes them back in before you can.

"Sentinels. They were created by Trask and they can morph to defend themselves against any mutation. I'm here to prevent the events leading up to everything."

"Couldn't this really mess up the future though? Like what if things get worse?" You ask, trying to wrap your head around the idea of time travel. It's not like it's impossible, I mean you literally control things with your mind but it's certainly a confusing concept to grasp.

"It might. But it's the only shot we had." You badly want to see what's going on in his mind. What kind of future he comes from and just how bad it really is.

"You're not asking any questions."

"Why would I?" He snorts and you catch him sneak a glance at you.

"Are we friends? Because you look at me like you know me already." Logan stays quiet. He refuses to look at you as he downs the rest of his beer. There's so much he could say but maybe he should stay quiet.

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry." You reach out for his hand. He flinches away at first but he grabs your hand when you try to pull away. He missed your touch. He missed the life he had before the sentinels. He missed you.

"For what sweetheart?" "Just, it seems like there's always so much pressure on you." He shrugs.

You haven't changed one bit. Always a big heart and a kind smile. He squeezes your hand gently. His hands are rough and they're so strong. You can't help but stare at the veins in his hands that run up to his arms. He lets go of your hand and you frown slightly.

"Logan? What happens if you fail?" You ask hesitantly, not really sure you want the answer.

"Then we're all dead." An uncomfortable silence settles over the room. You don't even know what he has to do but you know the weight on his shoulders must be enormous.

"Look you shouldn't worry about this. Trust me when I say I'm going to do everything I can." Everything he can to save you. Save the world too but in his mind you're his number one priority. He stands up and sadly you realize it's gotten late.

"Show me to my room?" He holds out his hand and you take it. You know for a fact that Hank already told him where he was staying but who are you to say no to more time with Logan.

"You tired?" He asks as you arrive at his room. You shake your head and he holds the door open.

"Want to stay?" He sees the way your eyes widen and he chuckles.

"Not like that, unless you want to." The truth is he wants more time with you.

Selfish as it may be he needs you. Just to be around you, even if you don't really know him yet. Your presence always calmed him. You nervously sit on the edge of his bed, playing with the blankets as he sheds his jacket. He's dressed in a white tank top and pants. He sighs as he lays down in bed, back against the headboard as he lights a cigar. You don't even know where he got that from. After a few moments of silence you decide to ask the forbidden question.

"Can I see what it's like?" You know that you shouldn't. That looking into his mind could be a huge mistake but you need to know.

"It's not pretty in here sweetheart. You might find something you aren't ready to see." His breath hitches as you start to move up the bed. Crawling until you're kneeling right next to him. You place your fingers on his temples.

"Logan," You whisper, asking him for approval. He nods and you close your eyes.

You're met with chaos. It's like his brain is constantly at war. Horrible memories of the future. Destruction, death. His friends are dying, the world is falling apart. Then there's you. You look older and an overwhelming feeling of desperation washes over you. You see yourself from Logan's point of view. He's begging you not to go. To stay safe and be with him but you don't stay. You have to give him the best chance. You disappear into the fog and Logan watches.

"Sweetheart," You hear his voice coming from the real world but you can't pull away. Going deeper and deeper into his mind. All the violence, all the loss this poor man has been through. So much anger.

"That's enough!" Logan grabs your wrists and tries to pull you off him but not even his super strength is enough to match your powers when you're like this.

He can see you start to panic. You haven't learned to control your powers as much yet and he can't stop you. So he takes a deep breath and starts thinking of one thing. You. Slowly the violent memories turn into something else. His brain starts to quiet and so does yours.

Years of your life together with Logan. Every kiss, every flirty glance. The quiet moments. It's like you're watching him fall in love with you. You start to calm down but then his thoughts take another turn. It's still you and him but the scenes are more...intimate.

His hands on your body, caressing, kissing. Loud moans and images that would make a grown man blush. It's dirty. It's hot. Just how much sex can two people have. He has you pinned to the bed, to the wall, over the table. In the shower, in the car, outside. Your hips start to move subconsciously against the sheets. Logan finally gets your hands free. Your breathing heavily, eyes blown wide as you stare at the man before you.

"We're together."

"Yes."

"You love me."

"Yes I do, sweetheart."

"Oh my god you've seen me naked." You gasp as you cover yourself with your hands. Logan laughs as he gently takes your hands away.

"If it helps you'll see me naked too. A lot." Your eyes glance down to his crotch briefly. From what you saw. It's big.

"This is really weird." You mumble as you sink down into the bed.

A concerned look washes over his face. He loves teasing you but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you sweetheart. If you want to go you're free to go." He loves you with all his heart and he knows that he's entered your life earlier than expected. So he's okay if you're not ready to know him yet. Because eventually you'll find each other again.

"It's not that. I promise. It's just. A lot." You explain. You watch the man in front of you. You saw your future together and you want it now. As selfish as that sounds you want it now.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask shyly. This man has seen you naked and taken you in every room in the mansion and yet you still nervous to ask for a kiss.

"Course you can." You cup his face, the scratchy feeling of his beard making you laugh.

Slowly you kiss him. He already knows just how you like it. Nipping your bottom lip to get access to your tongue. He slowly lays you down into the bed. Crawling over you as he deepens the kiss. You taste just as sweet as you always do.

"Logan," You moan as he places his knee in between your legs. Your hands slip under his white tank top. Groaning as you feel his chiseled abs. Fuck he's just perfect isn't he.

"Take it off." You beg as you tug his shirt. He smirks as he sits back on his knees and rips his shirt apart.

"A little dramatic don't you think." You say as he throws the scraps to the side.

"You like it." He growls. His hands coming to lift your shirt above your head.

"I can smell it on you babe. I can hear her calling my name." He bites your neck roughly as he grinds his hips against yours.

"Want me to show you a sneak peak of the future sweetheart?" He purrs as he toys with the hem of your pants. You run your hands over his bare chest. It's insane how hot he is. His eyes swirl with lust and love. A gentle care in the way he promises to ravage you. You look up at him, hands gripping onto his strong arms.

"Show me. Show me everything."

[deepestnightcolor]

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?” 

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻

Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.

I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)

Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.

Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.

A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀

*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*

It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.

The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.

“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”

“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”

“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”

“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.

“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.

“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.

He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.

Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.

“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”

You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.

“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.

You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.

“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.

“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.

“You say that now…”

You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”

“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.

“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.

“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”

Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.

“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.

“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”

You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”

“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”

“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”

“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.

“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”

“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”

“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.

You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.

“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.

“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”

You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.

“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”

He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”

“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”

“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.

He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.

The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.

“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”

He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.

“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”

“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”

“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”

“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”

“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.

“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.

“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.

Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.

After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.

“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.

“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”

“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.

“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”

“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”

“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.

“Used.”

“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought.  “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”

“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”

“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.

You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.

“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.

“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.

Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.

“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”

Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.

Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.

You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.

One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.

“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”

He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.

“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”

You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.

As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.

Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.

“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.

You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.

“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.

“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.

“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”

“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.

“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”

“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”

At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.

“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.

“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.

“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”

“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.

“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”

“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”

“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.

“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”

“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”

“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”

“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”

“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”

Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.

“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.

“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.

“No one has.”

“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”

“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”

Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.

“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”

“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”

“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”

You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.

“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.

“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”

“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.

Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.

You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”

“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.

“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”

“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.

Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.

His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”

“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”

“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.

“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.

“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”

He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.

“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.

The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.

“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.

Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.

“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”

“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.

“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.

You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”

You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”

You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.

“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.

“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”

“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”

[heyimkana]

Pillow Talk (2/4)

Read Part 1 | AO3 Link

Sequel to Come Home to Me but can be read separately.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, slight hurt/comfort

Summary: Although the two of you yearn for each other's touch so badly, you start the night slow. Cuddling with your husband in bed, you ask him questions you've never had the bravery to ask before. And as he comforts you, he can't help but tease and play with you a little.

Content Warnings: constant flirting, endless banter and teasing, some nipple play (you'll sit on his face in the next part tho 👀)

Word Count: 10K

The bed sheets wrinkle underneath your fingers, your heart thumping in excitement as the word ‘reward’ rings through your ears. You watch him hover above you, your body caged by his own. “I can ask for... anything?”

With a chuckle so soft yet titillating, Jinwoo prods his nose against the pulsating vein on your neck, savoring your sweet, intoxicating scent. “Anything.”

You swallow thickly, a thousand different wishes bursting into your head at once. “T-then… I want you to…” 

Kiss me. Touch me. Make love to me. 

These words echo vehemently in your head, a plea that almost physically pains you to ignore. “K-ki…” You can’t say it. You stop yourself from saying it. You don’t want to let him win, not like this, not without effort. Your husband is already a fucking tease even without you giving him a reason to be. If you surrender now, he’ll flaunt his cheeky, cocky grin all day tomorrow, and while he’ll look unbearably sexy when he does that, you’re not sure if your pride can take it. 

A mischievous glint coats his eyes simply from noticing the changes in your behavior. Jinwoo drags his face closer to yours, his sentence coming out in a low, seductive purr, “Getting shy now, Sweetheart? How cute.”

See? Even when you haven’t said anything yet, he’s already annoying. 

Though flustered, you keep yourself composed. A little teasing like this isn’t something you can’t quickly recover from. Determined to step up your game, you bite your bottom lip, both to restrain yourself from begging for him to touch you as well as to entice him so he’ll make the first move. You know he wants this just as much as you do. If anything, with the way he’s trapping you underneath him right now, his hips eager to seek friction, he’s already craving something more than a kiss. It’s a shame that he’s just as stubborn as you are, but then again, that’s what makes it more interesting for you. 

Your eyes travel down to his lips, lingering there for a moment to ensure he receives your message. When they traverse back to his cobalt blues, your lips parting in the shape of his name, his gaze darkens, permeated by nothing but the carnal desire he’s trying to rein in. Unfortunately for you, Jinwoo has played similar games in the past, and he’s committed to winning each time. This one, especially, is the one thing he’ll never allow himself to lose, keeping himself strong and unswayed no matter how much he longs to kiss your pout away. His victory over you would grant him the most satisfaction of all. He’s certain of it.

Jinwoo cups your cheek, his thumb playing with the edge of your mouth. He mimics what you did before, letting his gaze cascade to your lips, the soft breath of his whisper ghosting over them. Seduction colors every line of his face, every letter of the words he speaks. “Does my sweet wife want a kiss?”

‘A kiss? No, I don’t want a kiss. I want you to stick your tongue in my mouth’ is a thought you promptly dismiss the moment his smirk arises on his lips. “I don’t know. Does my annoying husband want one?” It surprises you that you can still muster something witty when he’s looking down at you like that, and seeing how he laughs slightly in response, it appears he feels the same way, too. 

“Maybe he does,” his mouth shadows your lobe, nipping lightly at the shell of your ear to remind you how thrilling it was to have his teeth grating against your skin, leaving marks that would set your heart on fire every time you caught your reflection in the mirror. “Maybe,” he continues as he wedges his leg between your own, pushing the end of your nightgown to your thighs, his knee pressed dangerously against the thin fabric of your lingerie. “He wants to have more than a kiss.”

Your breath hitches in your throat; the urge to just grind on his thigh threatens to consume you. Another layer of haughtiness paints his smile. He knows exactly the effects he has on you, and he wants you to act on it, to give in to your desire so he can finally do what he’s been craving to do all day. 

You won’t let that happen, not yet. “Mm, yeah, thought so.” You play high and mighty to put a cloak over your soaring heart, which only entertains him further. “So, what is he going to do about it?”

“Hmm… Why don’t you close your eyes and see?” He’s testing the water, checking to see if you’ll be an obedient pet for him, but this thought doesn’t spring to your mind, at least not immediately. 

Though you know you should fight it, your body yearns terribly for him. Just a kiss is fine, right? Everything else, you won’t make it so easy. Sinking into a moment of weakness, you shut your lids as requested, waiting. And as you do, you fail to see how pleased he looks, how your little act of submission adds another layer of desire to his gaze.

You can feel Jinwoo leaning down, closing the already imperceptible distance between you. His lips hover right above yours, the sweet caress of his breath skimming across your mouth and chin. You wait in anticipation, but the kiss never comes, not in the way you wanted it to be.

Instead of locking your lips together, your husband places a tiny, tiny kiss on the point of your nose, a peck similar to what your daughter often gives you. You snap your eyes open, squinting at him almost menacingly as you grumble, “You’re such a tease.”

“Am I?” Another chuckle breaks free from his throat, a spark of glee underneath the huskiness of his voice. “I asked what you wanted me to do for you, but you didn’t answer my question. I’m not a mind-reader, you know. If you want something, Sweetheart,” he pauses just to glide his thumb over your lips, his tongue peeking out slightly to wet his own pair as he gazes down at your inviting mouth. “You need to be a good girl and ask for it.”

Although your stomach flips in response, your mind refuses to accept defeat. You know what? Fine. You decide inwardly as you try to keep yourself collected. If he wants to do this, to toy with you as he pleases, then you’ll play with him all night long. “You’re right. A peck on the nose was exactly what I wanted,” you utter almost through gritted teeth. “You know me so well, Husband.”

His body vibrates slightly with mirth. “Well then, I’ll give you one more.” His grin presses against your skin as he presents you with another one, still the same stupid little peck on your nose. “And a little bit of this,” he nuzzles the tip of your noses together, acting cute. “To chase the pout away.” 

God, I hate him so much, you think, as your heart flutters for him, falling in love all over again. “I’m not pouting.”

“Sure, you aren’t, love,” he simpers as he plants a playful kiss on your head. Then, as if he wasn’t affected by the smothering sexual tension between you, Jinwoo falls back to the bed, settling himself right next to you. “Let’s chat for a bit before we go to sleep. I wanna hear you talk about your day.”

Before we go to sleep? You almost scoff. Oh, he’s completely messing with me. The worst thing is, you don’t hate it. You’re frustrated, sure, but you don’t hate it. He looks so incredibly young and boyish this way, the kind of juvenility that only you are allowed to see, judging from how stoic and composed he carries himself in public. 

Like him, you roll over to lie on your side, facing him with your sulk slowly fading. “My day is hardly any interesting compared to yours.” 

“Maybe not, but you are.” His wolfish grin has altered back into the usual smile he displays, charming and tender, brimming with affection. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jinwoo draws you closer and lets you rest your head on his chest. “I want to know everything about you, Sweetheart. I want to see if there’s something I can help. How are you feeling? Did you get to eat much today?”

“Not really,” you answer, followed shortly by an enervated exhale. You nuzzle your face further into his chest, basking in his wonderful, comforting scent and the warmth that rivals your velvety duvet. His bare chest and the toned muscles beneath his flawless skin should’ve been distracting—they are, still, to some extent—but right now, the need to be cared for and spoiled by your husband surpasses the craving your body thirsts for. “Everything still makes me nauseous. I kept forcing myself to eat just to get something inside, but I ended up vomiting every time. I’ll keep trying, but… I just hope the supplements are enough to keep our baby healthy for now.”

He runs his palm up and down your spine, his face sketched with sympathy. “I wish I could find a way to stop it. I can only imagine how hard it is for you.”

“It’s fine.” You feel soothed, your muscles unwinding under his touch. “As long as our baby is okay, I’ll deal with anything. I’m scared, yes, but… I enjoy it, too. It’s part of being a mother.”

His gaze softens, shimmering with the gratefulness he feels for having someone like you as his wife. “You’ve done so well, Sweetheart.” He rewards you with a kiss, his smile plastered directly on the little spot between your brows. “I’m so proud of you,” he strokes the back of your head, an act of consolation you didn’t think you needed this badly.

Your spirit brightens, your body feels so much lighter as you embrace him close. Those words he spoke… They might have been simple, but you truly needed to hear them today. It feels amazing to have someone you can lean on, to listen to you without judging, to be proud of the sacrifices you make for your family. Jinwoo could’ve easily acted stoic and unsympathetic after witnessing the horrifying things he’d encountered in the dungeons, but with you, he never did. He understands your struggles, and he admires you for getting through them each time.

As you enjoy this moment of comforting silence, he whispers, “I’m sorry…”

“Hmm?” You lean your head back to capture his gaze, your hair brushing against his chin in the process. “For what?” 

“‘Cause I made you go through all of this again,” he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheekbone, gazing down at you with remorse. 

“You’re sorry ‘cause you got me pregnant?”

“Well… Yeah.”

Your hushed giggle fills the air. “You’re not sorry. You love getting me pregnant.”

If there was a blush blooming on his cheeks, he tried his best to conceal it. “I mean, yes, I do, but seeing you like this… I can’t help but feel bad about it.”

You snort. “You should apologize for almost breaking my back during our last session, not this.”

You can feel the vibration of his laughter directly from his chest, one that doesn’t last long.  “I’m sorry for that, too—though it will most definitely happen again.” Jinwoo returns a small distance between you, tilting your face up by the chin. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” There’s sincerity in his question, replacing the previous devilment in his eyes with concern.

“Thanks for the thought, honey.” You curl your fingers around his wrist as a feeble smile crawls back to your lips. “But no, I’ll be fine. It will pass, don’t worry.” You intertwine your fingers together, every space filled perfectly as if you were a set. “But if you want to make me feel better, why don’t you tell me what actually happened in the gate today? Not knowing the full story makes me anxious, and I don’t think that's good for our baby.” 

His soft titters ruffle your strands. “I’m sorry I made you worry, but really, everything is fine. All you have to know is that I’m safe, and I always will be.” Bringing your joined hands closer to his face, Jinwoo adorns the back of your hand with a reverent kiss. “I have you waiting for me to come home, don’t I? I’ve promised you once that I would return to you no matter what, and I’m a man of my word. Nothing can keep me away from you, Sweetheart.”

His tender tone pacifies you, but it’s never enough to completely excise your past traumatic memories of nearly losing him. “It wasn’t like the last time, was it? The beast that put those wounds on your chest?” 

“No, nothing like that,” he answers with haste, not wanting you to fret even further (it’s just a stupid game he plays to get your attention, after all). “It was just Beru.”

As if being summoned, the shadow soldier materializes out of thin air, still in the shape of a small, floating head. “M-My liege,” Beru greets, the pitch black, smoggy cloak around him quivers just as much as his voice. He hovers close to his summoner’s face, beseeching him for forgiveness. “I can no more bear this guilt within mine own chest. To make amends for mine sins, I shall taketh mine own life. Though I shall be reborn through thy mystic powers, the anguish must needs be worth the price of thy fair skin I have besmirched with these abominable hands. I shall end mine existence a hundredfold, nay, a thousandfold—”

“Can you not waste my mana, please?” Your husband sighs, breaking away from you with a frown. All the romantic tension he’s been building before to sweep you off your feet? Gone. “And what did I tell you about not snooping into my private moments?”

“Mine most humble apologies, my liege!” Beru panics, flying back and forth like a little ball of black flame in the soft, golden glow of your bedroom. “I hath but come hither to bid thee good night! Naught did I desire to intrude upon thy sacred, amorous moment with thy lady wife, most especially when thou hast longed for her gentle caress all the livelong day—”

Jinwoo slaps a hand over the ant’s mouth, his large palm nearly covering his entire face, grasping it hard enough for Beru to start mewling under his hold. His smile is nothing but menacing, a warning for the shadow to for the love of God, shut. the fuck. up. “Yes, yes, good night, Beru. Would that be all, or is there something else you wish to tell me?” Despite his sweet offer, Jinwoo tightens his clutch over his face. Shaking like a leaf and unable to speak, Beru shakes his head fervently, wanting nothing more than to flee the scene. “Good. Then, I suggest you take your leave. Now.” The necromancer then raises his voice a tad louder, sounding just as firm as he speaks his command. “Not just you. All of you.”

More floating heads emerge before you at once, cowering as they have been caught red-handed. You recognize them as the nameless, lower-ranked knights and mages whose enthusiasm for their master’s love life vies with Beru’s obsession. They hide themselves behind the Ant King, their faces painted with both guilt and horror. 

“Hie thee hence, ye peasants!” Beru shouts at his underlings the second his master releases him from his, quite literally, death grip. “Ye heard what our lord and savior hast spoken! Flee now! Pronto!”

They vanish as suddenly as they appeared, returning the two of you to silence’s embrace once more. Jinwoo throws his head back to the pillow, releasing what must have been his most exhausted sigh yet. “Sorry you had to see that,” he mutters as he massages the bridge of his nose. Not even an S-rank gate could make him feel as worn out as the antics his little shadows had pulled just now.

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. It’s heartwarming to see how close he is with his soldiers. Every single being in his army doesn’t just respect and fear him as their lord; they adore him as a family figure who cares for and protects them. Their curiosity for his love life was born out of fondness. They pray in their own way for their master to always be surrounded by joy as it delights their hearts just the same. Sure, they can be a little immature sometimes, but it’s part of the reason why they’ve become so endearing to you. “You know, I’m starting to think that they’re not your soldiers anymore. They’re your sons.”

“Honestly, that sounds about right.”

“Except Igris.”

“Except Igris, thank god.”

The way he looks so utterly grateful for it amuses you, but not as much as the fact that—if what Beru had said was true—your husband has been so blatantly yearning for your touch that even an ant could see it. “So,” you nestle close to him, using his arm as a pillow. “You’ve been thinking about me all day, huh?” A flirty twinkle veneers your eyes as your fingers absentmindedly draw circles on his chest, feeling him grow tense under your touch. “Did you get that cut because you were distracted during the raid, or did you get hurt on purpose to get my attention? Which one is it?”

A part of him was ready to drive Beru’s head into the ground for exposing him like that, but then again, as a lover, a friend, and a person he can call home, you're the only one who always sees right through him. It’s only a matter of time before you start figuring things out on your own, the way you always do. 

Does he feel embarrassed that you see right through his plans? Yeah, maybe a bit. Does he feel guilty about it? Sort of, yeah. But showcasing those feelings would be accepting defeat, and that’s not an option he can take. So, instead of coming clean, Jinwoo quickly replaces his shame with mischief, showcasing the naughtiest smirk on his lips. “And what if I was?” Jinwoo questions seductively, twining his fingers around your wrist. “Would you be flattered that I thought about you all day?”

Your reaction, however, is far from what he’s expected.

“Would I be flattered?” You flick him on his nose, earning a surprised flinch out of him. “You shouldn’t have gotten distracted during the fight—it could’ve been dangerous! Thank goodness it was just a cut, but what if it was worse? What if it was life-threatening? Also, why do you still have that in the first place? Can’t you just heal it with potion?”

He enjoys this. There’s nothing cuter to him than the way you look when you’re upset. It just makes him want to tease you even more. “Maybe I want my wife to kiss it better,” he replies, an elfin grin blooming on his lips, one that you scrape off almost immediately by grabbing his face, your thumb and index finger digging into his cheeks.

“Do not try to flirt your way out of this, Sung Jinwoo. I’m very angry at you right now.” No, you’re not, not really. After all, there was no harm done. But still, you need to get your point across because otherwise, his dumbass would keep doing it.

Now that you’ve refused to give him a kiss, his plan backfires. Sighing in defeat after you release him, he reveals the truth with a slight jut of his bottom lip. “Fine. The truth is, no, I wasn’t distracted during the fight because I was never in one to begin with. I just stood there on the sideline, waiting for my shadows to clear the gate for me.”

“And what were you doing exactly? You can’t just simply be standing there, Jin. You’re an S-rank hunter.”

“Uhh…” He begins to sweat, one finger scratching his cheek as he tries to come up with an excuse. “I was busy, umm… thinking.”

“Not about me naked, surely.”

He blushes. He actually blushes. “Of course not. I was trying to come up with a plan. Another raid is coming soon. I want to find a strategy to do my next mission more efficiently.”

“Mm, sounds like bullshit, but okay. So, how did you get the cut?”

He racks his brain as best as he can. Nothing comes up. He does it a second time. Still, nothing comes up. The truth, it is, then. “Well, like you said, I wanted to get your attention, so—”

“I swear to God, Jinwoo, if you said you did that to yourself…” You don’t even bother to finish the sentence. He knows what you mean, and he knows exactly what you’re capable of in terms of disciplining him. No weapons and hunters could harm him in this world, but being deprived of your touch? Of your kiss? Now, that’s torture.

“Not… exactly like that,” he answers, his eyes straying away from your own.

Then, it clicks. “You asked Beru to hit you, didn’t you?”

Bullseye. He’s completely avoiding your gaze now. Only silence answers you, but that, itself, is the evidence you need.

“Unbelievable. That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” And yet, you find yourself giggling even before you can finish your sentence, the sound airy and pretty, a perfect symphony to his ears. The whole image of Beru, who was most likely crying as he obeyed his master's command, punching him in the face just because your husband wanted your attention is just downright ridiculous to you.

Jinwoo's eyes droop in fondness, his chest overflowing with the affection he holds for you. You seem so carefree and light at this moment, your face relaxed as if you hadn’t been weighed down by the stress that’s consumed you all day. He keeps himself quiet as he watches you laugh, his heart missing a beat.

“There it is. My favorite sound in the world,” he smiles so endearingly at you, so breathtakingly gorgeous, it causes your stomach to twist and churn at the sight of God’s most perfect masterpiece. “I was worried that I wasn’t going to hear it today since all you’d been doing was scolding me.”

“And whose fault do you think that is?” you reply with a light poke to his abdomen, his soft chuckles intermingling with yours in the close space between your mouths. “I can’t believe you went through all that for me.”

He captures your hand, bestowing a soft kiss on the ridges of your knuckles. “It’s worth the price.” He looks so dreamy like this, picture-perfect, a handsome prince with a devilish grin. 

“I’m gonna have to apologize to Beru on your behalf.” You watch how pretty the rosy shade of his lips looks upon your skin, entranced. That, too, is picture-perfect. “You can’t keep torturing him like that, Jin. Just how many times has it been already? He’s just a kid.”

“Do that later.” He places your hand on his cheek, his stare so soft, it’s almost imploring. “Spoil me first.” Your lover sinks his face in the dip of your palm, nuzzling against it with his eyes closed. “I may have been a bit naughty today, yes, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t work hard during the raid.”

“You just said you were doing nothing but standing there while picturing me naked.”

“But I’ve missed you." He resorts to his ultimate weapon, winning your heart with his raspy voice and his pleading eyes. “I miss you so much, baby… Don’t you miss me?” 

The longing sigh, the soft blush plating his cheeks, the glimmering blue eyes—he’s cute, so cute, which is such a weird thing to say as you never thought that he and the word cute could belong in the same sentence. Who cares if he's gaslighting you now, right? He’s pretty.

“God, what am I going to do with you?” You mutter, followed by a playful roll of your eyes. With a doting smile coating your lips, you spread your arms for him. “Come here.”

Jinwoo wastes no time, burying his face in your chest and holding you so tightly that he almost steals all the air in your lungs. You laugh, the sweet, hushed sound reserved only for his ears to hear. “Big baby,” you croon, cradling his head close. He pays no heed to anything anymore. You can call him whatever he wants; he no longer cares. No, the Gods can burn down the world to ashes right now, and he’d still refuse to leave your embrace. He’s finally home, where he belongs, and he just wants to submerge himself in this moment and memorize every detail—the sound of your breathing, the beats that your heart sings, this sweet serenity you bring him, the warmth and the softness of your skin, the scent that intoxicates him with both love and desire—everything.

He wishes that you’d let him stay like this for a while, while you beg the heavens to let you have this moment forever. It makes you feel worthy, special, needed, to be the only one in this universe who can offer him this sense of solace. 

You card your fingers through his hair, his raven strands smoother than silk. And when you brush a tender kiss on his forehead, he lets out a soft sigh, relieved and contented, as if a single kiss from you managed to wash away all the burden the world had bestowed upon his shoulders. 

Jinwoo closes his lids, letting you stroke his hair like a child. He relishes the intimacy as your scent fills him, grateful for the comfort you offer him simply by just being here in his embrace. 

Seconds pass by, a company to his steady breathing. Guided by the quietude of your bedroom, your thoughts begin to wander. “Jinwoo…”

“Hmm?”

“These foster kids of yours,” you begin with a joke. “What do they think of me?”

His eyes slowly flutter open as a smile ornaments his lips. “Let's see... The knights think of you as their queen,” he says, his voice slightly muffled by the skin that covers your heart. “The mages think of you as a goddess that needs to be worshipped, which is honestly true,” he flirts, as smoothly as always. “The ants see you as their mother, and Kaisel loves you like a pet loves its owner. You can tell by how much he wags his tail when he’s around you, right?”

“Right,” you reply fondly, recalling the way the wyvern always bows his head low before you, his tail swaying back and forth as he waits for your gentle hands to pet his scales. “What about Iron?”

“Iron thinks you’re a great cook. He loves the cookies you baked for him before. He did not like the ones our daughter made him.” You exchange soft laughter with your husband. The memory of your daughter stuffing a dozen burnt cookies into the warrior’s mouth never failed to tickle your stomach. 

“Beru…” Jinwoo continues, humming lowly as he mulls about it. “Well, Beru admires you for being the only person who can put me in my place. And he thinks of you as, and I quote, the worthy bearer of my king’s seeds, so he—”

“Yes, I’ve heard about that already, thanks,” you mutter. Hearing that title the second time doesn’t make it any less mortifying. “And Igris? Does he ever talk about me?”

For a moment, Jinwoo turns hushed, uncertain if he should reveal the truth. “Igris… thinks of you as my biggest weakness,” he murmurs, causing you to stiffen in response. He runs a hand down your backside, reassuring you before he elaborates further. “He thinks you’re the one thing that I can’t live without. He worries about your safety constantly, knowing that I would be as good as dead if you weren't there with me. He cares about you as much as I do. He’s even sworn to protect you with his life.” 

With how quiet and tender these words flow past his lips, you can tell that he doesn’t simply reiterate Igris’ words. They come from the bottom of his heart, too. You tighten your hold around him, burying your nose in his hair. “I’ll always be safe, I promise.”

“I’ll make sure you are,” he vows, shutting his lids and sinking into your embrace once more, thankful for this moment.

“Tell Igris I said thank you, okay?”

“No need, baby. He already knows.”

He does? Oh… Right. “He’s always with you, huh? Every one of your soldiers.”

“Since they’re connected to my shadow, yeah. They’re part of me now.”

“And they… can see and hear everything that’s going on between us?”

Jinwoo blinks before a peal of his deep laughter reverberates to your skin, tickling the dip of your cleavage. You can tell he already knows where you’re going with this. “Mm-hmm, they have their eyes and ears everywhere.” 

“Always?”

“Always.” He pulls away just enough to take a good look at you, a little smile playing on his lips. “What is it? Are you worried they might be watching us right now?”

“A little bit,” you answer reluctantly, feeling rather childish for even bringing this topic out in the open. You’ve been with the Shadow Monarch for years. Surely, his shadows must have seen everything by now, and yet… You can’t help but long for a moment of privacy. Tonight, especially. “I know you just told them to disappear, but they can still hear us, can’t they? They can close their eyes when you tell them to, but it’s not like they can control their hearing, right?”

“That’s right.” He’s not bothered by it in the slightest. If anything, it amuses him. “They can still hear us, yes, but there’s nothing to worry about. They’re very loyal to me, and they respect my privacy more than anything. They know better than to listen in on our private moments.” 

“Beru and his gang literally popped out a minute ago.” 

“Yeah, but that’s Beru.” He speaks of him as if the Ant King were this stubborn child that he’d given up to control a long time ago. “They’re gone now.” Seeing how your focus is still somewhere else, he gently grabs your face, trapping your gaze and holding it still. “You’re thinking about them when you should’ve been focusing on me—your husband who’s been craving for your attention all day. You’re breaking my heart, Princess.”

“I want to focus on you, darling; that’s why I’m asking you this. There’s something I want to do with you, and knowing that they can hear us, I… can’t help but feel a bit…” Your voice shrinks to a murmur as fire licks your cheeks. “…embarrassed.”

Jinwoo examines you for a moment, taking in the way you turned flushed so adorably as you spoke your words. “And here I thought you couldn’t get any cuter,” he comments, adoring you. “I could ask them to go on another patrol if that could make you feel better. You just want us to be alone, right?”

You answer with a nod. He can sense the guilt that radiates off you for asking something so selfish. “All right,” he assures you with a light kiss on the top of your head. “Give me a second.” 

They begin to gleam, his irises, switching from sapphires into brilliant amethyst as his magic power exudes. He then closes his eyes, spending a brief moment to spread a mental command to his soldiers. By the time his lids flicker open, they’ve returned to the gentle cobalts that you’ve grown to cherish more than anything. “There. They’re gone now.”

“All of them?”

“All of them. I asked Igris to keep them in check, just in case.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out in relief, tension leaving your body. “Sorry for asking you this. I didn’t mean to be so selfish, but…”

“It’s no problem, baby.” Your husband runs his hand gently down your naked arm, enjoying the soft feel of your skin under his fingertips. “I know how important privacy is to you. And don’t worry, they’ll be gone until I summon them back. We have this moment all to ourselves now. That being said…” Like a snake shedding its skin, his previous soft smile morphs into a naughty smirk. “What is it that you’re planning to do to me that you don’t want my shadow soldiers to know?”

“Nothing.” And yet, you can’t seem to look at him in the eyes. “I, umm… I just wanted to ask you some questions.” 

His fingers have now slid down to your thigh, gliding against the satin of your nightgown. “Dirty questions?”

“J-just questions.”

“Hmm,” he purrs in dissatisfaction. The sound so sultry, it elevates your heart rate by tenfold. “Can’t say I’m not a little bit disappointed by that, Sweetheart. Will I, at least, get a reward if I agree?”

“I mean, you can ask me anything you want, too. I’ll answer them honestly.”

“Anything?”

You’re already regretting it, even now. You didn’t think it would be a big deal for him, but knowing Jinwoo… Of course, he’ll take every opportunity he can get to rile you up in the best way possible. “Anything… I guess…”

He snickers at your uncertainty. “Well, I’d be a fool to refuse that.” A little glimpse of his fangs grace your eyes as he grins, already looking so pleased and confident to play your game. “You better live up to your words, Sweetheart. Or, don’t, it’s up to you. I’ll be enjoying this in one way or another because if you run away, I’ll have a reason to punish you.”

It feels like you’re already losing before you even begin. God, this whole thing is a mistake, isn't it? “I-I’ll go first. If you could only keep one shadow soldier for the rest of your life, and another one for me, who would you choose?”

His whole expression changes. Saying that he looks utterly dissatisfied by it would be an understatement. “That’s your question? Really?”

Okay, that might have been a little boring, but— “I’m curious about who your favorite shadow is, sue me. And don’t look at me like that, Jinwoo, I already said I wouldn’t ask you anything dirty. And you better not, too!”

“Can’t promise you that, my love,” he tosses another smirk toward your direction. “Well, let’s see…” To your surprise, he takes a moment to ponder to himself. You realize as you examine his expression that he holds every soldier in his army dearly, caring for them just the same. Asking him this question carries the same weight as asking a parent who their favorite child is. “I think I’d take Igris,” Jinwoo answers after a while. “Not only is he strong, he was the first high-rank shadow I obtained, so he’s special to me in a way. He’s also the most loyal, most responsible out of everyone else. I trust him with my life if it comes down to it.”

“I thought you’d say it would be a tie between him and Beru.”

He smiles, happy to see how you could predict his answer perfectly. “That’s true, and that’s why I’m choosing him, too. For you.”

“You’d give me Beru? Even though he praises you non-stop, worships you like a God?”

“That’s exactly why I’m assigning him to you,” he grimaces at the thought. “Igris is more serious and mature. Personality-wise, he suits me better. I like the fact that he doesn’t talk much, and yet he knows me better than anyone else. I would enjoy the comforting silence between us, the way I always have. Beru, on the other hand, is much more… enthusiastic. He’s got a lot of personality and can be a little high-maintenance. I have no doubt you two would get along and be trouble together. You both drive me crazy.”

You find hilarity in his words. “Beru would cry if he heard about this.”

“He won’t. He loves you just the same. He has a statue of you in the shadow realm—I’ve told you about that, right?”

“You have.” And you would’ve chuckled at that had a grim thought never occurred in your mind, but it did, and now it’s all you can think about. You try to refrain yourself from asking, but your curiosity swells faster than you can control your tongue. “Jinwoo, when I die… Will you turn me into your shadow soldier? Or would you just let me go and bury me?”

Your husband freezes at the question, the humor gone from his face. The abrupt change of topic leaves him with his tongue tied, but the second your question sinks in, his answer is immediate. “You’re not going to die.” 

He states it like a fact, indisputable, and it pains you a little to press him further on this, but you must know. “Everyone will die eventually—”

“Not you.” The firmness in his tone stuns you, silencing you at once. “I won’t let you die. I'll do everything in my power to save you. You’re mine. Nothing will ever change that. You will always be with me, right here in my arms, just like this.” His hold is possessive, perhaps even selfish, but beneath all that, his heart races when you place your palm over his chest as if merely the thought of losing you scares him to death. 

You alleviate your voice, pacifying him with a gentle caress to his cheek. “It’s just a hypothetical question, darling… I’m just curious, that’s all.”

His mood has changed completely, the same way the tension between you turns palpable after your question rings in the air. “It’s not something I want to think about.”

Regret starts to feast on your heart, causing you to feel remorseful for bringing this topic to the table. “I’m sorry…” You kiss his lips once, hoping it will ease whatever storm rages in his chest, if only for a little. “I’ll rephrase the question, okay? Have you ever wondered about having me as your shadow? Even if it was only a fleeting thought, did that possibility ever occur to you?”

His jaw remains clenched tight. Altering the words doesn’t change the fact that you still die in this scenario, and he won’t allow himself to walk down that path, even if it is only an imaginary situation. “I would never turn you into a shadow.” Jinwoo doesn’t answer whether he has thought about it or not. All he informs you is the decision he had made many, many years ago. “You’re not a possession. You're a person—my person. And as much as I love the idea of having you by my side forever, it would be the worst thing. Losing your humanity and free will… I could never do that to you.“

You nibble on your bottom lip. His sincerity, the way his voice quivers a little when he utters his words, they bring joy to you, spreading warmth to your every nerve. But even so, you cannot deny that there’s a part of you that turns crestfallen from his answer. The same side of you that thinks: 

So… he’d rather let me go forever than have a part of me with him..? 

“You’re so kind, aren’t you?” You say in a voice barely above a whisper, your heart weighing you down like an anchor. “If I were you… If I had the power to make you stay when God takes you away from me… I would’ve turned you into my shadow without a second thought. That’s just how much I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I know it’s selfish, I know it’s cruel, and I know you won’t be the same person as you are now, but… I just can’t imagine a life without you.”

His expression softens as he takes in your words, his joy unfolding like a flower at the thought of you ready to defy the Gods just to be with him. But you don’t own this power. You don’t know how terrifying it could be, the consequences it brings, the darkness that surrounds him, the sins that gnaw at his humanity. 

“Sweetheart, listen…” Jinwoo brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gently stroking your cheek. “The truth is… I have thought about it. I think I’ve mentioned it before—how scared I am of losing you. I dread every second that passes by when you’re not standing next to me, so, yes, of course, I’d considered that possibility before, more times than I’d like to admit. It’s the only way I know to keep you with me, as of now. But each time the thought popped into my head, the more I came to realize that… I could never do that to you. I won’t take away your freedom, your personality, your desire… If you became my shadow, you wouldn’t be able to talk to me, and you’d be bound to obey my command no matter what.”

“But Beru can talk to you. That means I can do it too one day, right?”

“Beru can talk because he’s a high-rank soldier. If you were turned into one, you wouldn’t be, and you wouldn’t get any chance to increase your rank because I would never allow you to go to battle. I wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of you getting hurt. And then you’d start feeling that you lost your purpose, not being able to serve me the way my other soldiers could. And I’d be constantly worried to death, not knowing what you were thinking. I’d start wondering if you truly felt happy that I resurrected you, or if you felt trapped with me, that you wished to move on.”

It only dawns on you, then, just how much your husband has thought about this through. You might have asked him out of curiosity, but Jinwoo already thinks about it as a possibility, one that he chooses to decline no matter what. The pain of losing you would strike deeper than a javelin through the chest, but he’d rather carry that wound for eternity than be shackled by the guilt of turning his beloved into anything but human.  

He draws you toward him, eliminating every inch of space between you. “I love you,” he whispers near your ear, his face twisted in agony. His arms ensnare you by the shoulders, embracing you so closely as if you’d vanish into thin air if he weren’t holding onto you tightly enough. “I love you so much, Sweetheart. I would do anything to keep you safe. I’d die a thousand deaths just to protect you, so please… Don’t talk about leaving me.”

You feel tears filling your sockets before you know it, and you can blame your pregnancy hormones for it, but you know you wouldn’t have felt this way if it wasn’t for the heartbreak in his voice. “I’m sorry…” You wrap your arms around him, your voice a quivering murmur as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry I brought this up…”

“It’s all right.” He kisses your temple, his hand skating up and down your spine. “I know you were just curious.”

You're grateful that you can keep your tears from breaking. You pull away, doleful. “I completely ruined the mood, huh?”

He chuckles softly. “No, you didn’t. Come here.” Guiding you toward him, your husband raises himself to sit on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard as he gathers you in his lap.  “You okay?”

You answer with a weak nod. 

You’re not okay, not really, he can tell. Jinwoo tucks a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, his smile soft with a hint of melancholy. He hopes a little chaff would lighten the tension. “So, Miss Necromancer. You’d turn me into your shadow in a heartbeat, huh?”

“Well, no, not anymore,” you pout a little. “I understand how you feel now. I wouldn’t want something like that to happen to you, too.”

“Well, that’s disappointing. I was wishing you’d stay selfish.” He settles his hands on the curve of your hips, eliciting fire upon your skin even with your nightgown staying in between. “I’m strong, you know. If you turned me into your shadow, I would be able to talk to you just like this. I could protect you. I could always be with you, hidden in your shadow. And we could do so, so many things together. Fun things.”—his words skate over the shell of your ear—“Dirty things.”—his lips moving lower to brush a featherlight kiss to the spot below your lobe—“Wherever we want.”—down to your jawline—“Anytime we want.”—to your neck—“However we want.” He ends his journey with a wet kiss on your bare shoulder, his tongue pressing flat against your skin, his teeth scraping deep enough to make you squirm but far from bruising you.

You giggle amidst your tattered breaths. “You sound so happy about it.”

“Of course I do, baby.” His smirk grows. “You want me to be with you for eternity. I’ve never felt so wanted.” He leans close, his lips a mere inch away from yours. “Do you still have depressing questions to ask, or can I entertain you with the things I’d do to you if I became your shadow?” Unlike him, who can easily put a veil on his troubled emotions for the sake of your happiness, your worry still shows no matter how much you try to conceal it. Noticing that, he cups your cheek. “What is it?”

You shake your head, forcing out a smile. “Nothing.”

He can see right through it, knowing that you’re holding back for his sake. Kissing you briefly on the lips, he says, “Go ahead and ask, love. It’s all right.”

Your hesitation halts you for another second before you choose to come clean. “Since you said you wouldn’t turn me into your shadow… If I di—if something happened to me,” you quickly correct yourself. “And I could no longer be with you… Would you ever consider… remarrying someone else?”

He stops. “What?”

“B-because, you know—our daughter will need a mother figure and I… I don’t want you to feel lonely and…” You start to panic, cursing yourself internally for being such a fucking idiot. Yes, you were curious about it, but still—what the hell was that question?! Perhaps it was born out of your desperation to be consoled. You understand clearly how your husband chooses to honor your death instead of keeping your soul trapped with him, and yet, loneliness shrouds you, still. This is you seeking some form of reassurance. This is you trying to heal the thought of being separated, of being… left behind. It’s pathetic, you know that, and now that the words have flown past your mouth, you feel a hundred times worse. “N-never mind. I was being stupid, I’m sorry.”

As you twist restlessly on his lap, your face burning with shame, Jinwoo watches you with nothing but solemnity written in his eyes. He doesn’t laugh at you, nor does he find this situation amusing in the slightest. If you think he’d move on with his life after your death—if you think there’s even a tiny part of him that could forget you, the center of his universe, you’re awfully mistaken.

He holds your face with one hand, his touch possessive, his eyes intense, filled with promise. “I would never marry anyone else.” The resolution in his voice stops your heart. “No one could ever replace you, Sweetheart, you know that. And our daughter…” He pauses. He knows that a mother’s role in a family is crucial, and he doubts he could fill your shoes no matter how hard he tries, but he just can’t accept having someone else in his heart, in his home, when she doesn’t own your face,  your personality, your sweet kiss, your gentle touch, your everything. “I would do anything for her. I would give her all my love, everything I could offer. But I promise you, I would never remarry. You’re the only one for me. You always have, and you’ll always be, even if you were—” He chokes on the word, his voice turning quieter when he continues, “…no longer here with me.”

The same quiver that runs through your fingertips now dances on your lips. “You’re the only one for me, too…”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to remind himself that none of this scenario is true, nor will it happen anytime soon. No, he’ll never allow it to happen. He’ll find a way to save you, even if it means sacrificing his own life for it. 

The kiss ends, but none of you finds the will to break free from each other’s embrace, his voice low and cracking with emotion when he speaks. “You're the only one who’s been in my heart and mind. You're everything to me. Nothing could ever change that, Sweetheart. Nothing.”

“I know,” you plant a chaste kiss on his lips once more. “I feel the same way. And I figured you’d say that, but… I just wanted to hear it in person.”

He mirrors your smile, just as tender, understanding that some feelings are meant to be spoken as a promise to chase away all fears and doubts in your chest. “And did I answer it well?”

“You answered it perfectly.” You tilt your head slightly to the side, brushing your lips against the dip of his palm. “Thank you, Jin. No more depressing questions, I promise.”

He feels lighter, his face much more relaxed. “No more depressing questions,” he echoes with a playful smile. “What’s up with all the negative thoughts? You were being all playful before.”

“I’m sorry,” you heave a heavy sigh. “It’s just the pregnancy hormones talking, I guess. You know how it is. I can feel like I wanna bawl my eyes out one second, then beat someone to a pulp the next.”

“If those are the only two options available, let's go with crying. You look pretty when you cry.”

Grabbing him by his jaws, you narrow your eyes playfully at him. "I don’t know, Husband, option two sounds really good right now.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles in relief, seeing you return to the person you were before. He takes your hand away, intertwining it together with his own. “Is it my turn to ask questions now?”

“Hmm, not yet. One more question, and then you can go.”

“So demanding,” he scrunches his nose cutely. “All right, ask me.” 

It only takes a second for you to ponder. “What is the one thing I do that you like the most?”

“One thing you do?” He pretends to ruminate just to tease, elevating the suspense. With one corner of his lips tilting higher than the other, he plays with the thin strap of your nightgown, twisting it around his finger before he moves closer. “You want me to be completely honest with you, baby girl?”

Shivers run through you as his hot breath skims over your collarbone, the tip of his nose brushing against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “O-of course.”

“Hmm…” You can almost feel his mouth on your neck as he purrs, but he doesn’t kiss you there just yet, maintaining the infinitesimal space between his lips and your skin to drive you crazy. “I think I love it when…” He kneads the supple flesh of your thigh. “You’re so needy for me.”

You nearly flinch when he, without warning, clasps his mouth firmly against the side of your throat. The way his deep, husky voice vibrates on your skin, the lightest touch of his tongue against your pulsating vein—it’s starting to be a bit too much. “N-Needy? I don’t think I’ve ever acted that way before.”

“Oh, really?” Your husband pulls away with one of his eyebrows raised, a little amused that you’re denying it. His hand slithers around your waist, his nails raking against the fabric, so eager to tear it apart. “You've never been needy, Sweetheart? Never once asked me to pay attention to you, touch you, hold you, make you feel good?”

You gulp, face aflame. “No…” Seeing how your answer doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest, you divert the topic. “Why do you even like it when I’m being needy anyway?”

He reciprocates with a sly smirk, his eyes traversing down from your neck, your collarbone, to your cleavage before he flicks them back to your face. Still with his smirk intact, his voice turns low and dark, dripping with desire. “Because I love knowing that you want me. I love having that power over you. The knowledge that you need me, crave my touch, that I can give you pleasure and take care of you. It drives me mad.”

His gaze locks onto your face, taking a moment to appreciate your beauty, the changes in your expression, and the anticipation in your eyes. “Besides…” Two of his lean fingers trace your jawline before they rest on your chin, lifting it up to take a more thorough look at your features. You appear so innocent under the soft, golden glow of your night light, so adorable and pretty, almost doll-like, and it awakens something primal within him. Something that he’s afraid he won’t be able to tame should you continue staring at him like this. “Do you know how cute you look when you want me to touch you? When you’re whining and begging for me to give you what you want?”

You can’t form a word, hypnotized under his gaze, controlled even before he begins pulling on your strings. He traps your chin, tugging it low enough for you to part your lips for him. “And this face you’re making right now…” He breathes out heavily as lust starts to coat his irises. “I want to ruin you so badly.” He’s already thinking about it, to run his tongue across the seam of your lips before he pushes it inside, tasting you, devouring you. “I want to make a mess out of you, to mark you as mine in places that everyone can see.” 

A certain glow in his eyes causes the soft hairs on your nape to rise. Every nerve of your body pleads for his touch, but he won’t grant your wish just yet. “But I have to be patient, don’t I, Sweetheart?” Jinwoo continues with a glimpse of cockiness written on his lips, knowing he already has you dancing in the palm of his hand. “After all, the game just started. Although…” He leans close, his lips barely touching your ear as he speaks hushedly. “I doubt I could resist it if my sweet girl starts acting all needy for me now.”

You force out a scoff even when your body is eager to have his taste in your mouth. “You wish.”

He simpers at your reaction, entertained by your desperate attempt to mask embarrassment. “Don’t try to deny it, love. I can see right through you. The way you’re clenching your legs together” —his hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing deep into your skin— “the way you bite your lip,” he kisses you, catching your lower lip between his own. He keeps it brief, just the lightest of bites and the purest of kisses, but the soft, sultry moan he makes on purpose is anything but innocent. “You’re already getting needy, aren’t you?”

Your stomach somersaults at how his smirk breaks so naturally, so seductively on his lips. Afraid you’ll succumb to your desire, you push a hand to his face, returning the safe space between you. “Your turn to ask me now.”

Jinwoo lets out a small laugh at your childish act, gently prying your hand away from him. “Someone’s avoiding the question,” he says, amused. “All right, my turn. I’m going to make sure you answer mine, okay, Sweetheart?”

The subtle threat only excites you. “Okay. Just don’t ask anything weird. Or perverted.”

Your husband chuckles, diving his head back to the dip of your neck again. He tugs on your strap with his teeth, his hand now brazenly glides over your chest, feeling the way your sensitive bud hardens under the satin but leaving it ignored—for now. “But you’d like the perverted ones, wouldn’t you?” His grin blooms on your skin before he places a warm, open-mouthed kiss on your clavicle. Your fingers clench into fists, doing everything you can to suppress your moan. When he breaks away, he carries himself nonchalantly as if he didn’t just grind his teeth against your skin a second ago. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll behave,” he finishes with a coquettish grin. “For your sake.”

“J-Just give me the damn question.”

“Patience is a virtue, my love. Let me think for a second. I don’t want to come up with something… boring.” His gaze turns playful when it meets yours, referring to your earlier question.

“Are you making fun of me again?”

“Me? Make fun of you? Never,” he coos as his smirk proves otherwise. “If you could change one part of my body, what would it be? But, of course, if you think everything is perfect, you can say that, too.”

You send him a flat stare. “Your dick. Would’ve liked it better if it was bigger.”

He laughs out loud at your answer, his seductive smirk morphing into a perfect view of his marbled teeth. He appears so young like this, refreshing and sweet. “Oh, baby, you know I don’t lack in that area, don’t you? If you were saying something about my face, I would’ve believed you, but that…” He snorts in amusement. “Come on now.”

“Oh, you’re so annoying.” You throw a playful jab at his stomach. Well, it is true that he’s packing more than necessary down there, but… You’re not going to give him that satisfaction, are you? “Where does this confidence even come from?”

He chuckles, catching your hand. “Of course, I’m confident. After all…” His fingers slide past your elbow, up to your shoulder, traveling over soft skin until they cup the side of your neck. His thumb rubs over your lips, his eyes misted with desire when he says, “You look too satisfied most of the time. If not, always.”

You can feel his digit applying pressure on your lips, wanting you to take his finger inside and give him a preview of what you can do with your mouth later when he makes you drop to your knees. You curl your hand around his wrist, a quick reminder for him to behave. “Maybe it’s just because you’re good at using it, not because of the size itself.”

Jinwoo smiles almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming in the dimness of your bedroom. “Careful now. I’m gonna get cocky.”

“I’m not complimenting you, dummy. I’m trying to make an argument!”

Your attitude only amuses him further. “Oh, no, Sweetheart, I can tell you’re complimenting me. Don’t worry, I know I’m the best. And I know you know that, too.”

You roll your eyes despite your heart thrashing against your ribcages in response. “Next question.”

“Is my dick really your final answer?”

“Next!”

He chortles, as deep and as soft as he speaks. He can honestly play with you like this for hours. Watching you turn flustered, all fidgety and cute, solely because of him… That’s the kind of satisfaction he seeks after a long day. “You know there's a consequence you need to pay for not answering that one honestly, right? I’m starting to think maybe you want to be punished.” 

Yes. Yes. Yes. God, yes. “Of course not,” you scoff. “I just don’t feel like answering ‘cause you’re being annoying.”

“Changing the rules as you please, huh? That does sound like you. Always not playing fair.” But he likes it. Oh, he loves it when you’re not playing fair. It gives him more reasons to teach you a lesson afterward. “Fine, if you’re so stubborn about it, then I’ll ask you this: if you had to choose one of my features to keep, what would it be?”

A question like this again? Is he fishing for compliments? That’s a bit cute, you can’t lie, seeing how he’s so needy for your praise. Unfortunately, you have a role to play and a facade to maintain. “That’s hardly any different.” You exaggerate your complaint with a snort. “Why can’t you just ask me what I want to have for my birthday or something?”

“Because I already know what you want,” he replies with a cock of his head. Arrogance has never looked this good on a man before. 

“You do?” You don't think you’ve ever given any clues about what you want for your present this year.

“Mm-hmm. And I can’t wait to show it to you.” Lifting you by the waist, he shifts your weight until you stand on your knees before him, his face now on the same level as your chest. He tugs on your strap, watching it slide off your shoulder until it pools around your elbow. Hungry eyes feast on your exposed skin, one side of your chest caressed by the cold air before the heat takes over in the shape of his hand. 

Jinwoo kneads your supple mound in his large palm, his fingers squeezing, teasing, itching to do more as desire mists his gaze. He encloses his mouth firmly around your breast, groaning softly at the taste of your skin on his tongue. The vibration runs straight south to your core, almost making you writhe when he combines it with a gentle nip of his teeth.

“In fact, I’ll give it to you all day, baby,” he suckles on your chest, tongue flicking against your protruding tip. “All night.” He moves to plant a wet, lingering kiss on the underside, breaking goosebumps along your skin. “I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world, you’ll see.”

Your breathing quickens under his ministration, your fingers grasping tightly against the roots of his hair as he maps his way to your other breast. You feel so much more sensitive today, your toes curling even from the lightest suck of your bud. Is it because he hasn’t touched you in a while? Or perhaps your pregnancy? You honestly can’t care less. “My birthday present—ah—It’s not s-sex, is it?”

He chuckles a moment before he unclasps his mouth. A smear of red rose blooms upon your skin, ready to turn purple by the morning. “No, honey, it’s not sex,” he looks up with his head tilted slightly to the side, staring at you with stray hairs falling over his pretty eyes, his gaze as titillating as his sultry smile. “Could be, if you want to.”

You chew on your lip. You can play hard to get as always, but you know nothing drives him faster to the edge than you acting so docile and submissive for him. This game of push-and-pull has been going on for a while. It should be about time you have a little fun of your own, right? “I think I’d like that, too… To have you as my present.”

It stuns him for a second, your confession. His eyes darken, turning as pitch-black as the sky that’s been deprived of its jewels. 

Jinwoo draws a shaky breath, his grip on your waist growing alarmingly tight. He wants to describe it, all the filthy things he wants to do to you, but he knows if he just lets one slip out—when he’s already in the state of losing his sanity—he’ll end up demonstrating each one of them right here, right now. And you’re trying to keep this game innocent, aren't you? Is there a reason why? 

He can see the desire in your eyes, the need to be with him, but just how far are you willing to go? Just how far can he touch you, be rough with you? He needs you to start it first, to give him more than just a sign. He wants to make sure that you’re ready. Until then, until he can hear you say what it is that you desire, he’ll respect this boundary between you, no matter how thin it is. He won’t cross it till you beg him for it.

But… A filthy thought resurfaces, tugging on the corner of his lips. A little poke can’t hurt.

***

Read Part 3 here

[izzih22]

you should do a oneshot of paige’s reaction to seeing azzi’s draft outfit👀

Everything She’s Ever Wanted

Note: how does that one TikTok go… Two bad bitches at the same damn time?😂

Paige Bueckers didn’t get nervous often. Big games, big crowds—those didn’t shake her. But tonight?

Tonight was different.

The WNBA Draft was supposed to be her moment. Everyone knew she’d be the number one pick, and everyone had been asking her how it felt. But Paige had barely been able to focus. Because it wasn’t just her night—it was their night.

Azzi.

She checked her phone again—no new messages. Azzi had gone back to her room to get ready nearly an hour ago, and Paige was starting to wonder if she’d died trying to get her lashes on straight. She huffed out a breath, pacing their shared hotel suite, adjusting her rings for the third time in five minutes.

Then she heard it.

The door creaked open softly. Paige turned, expecting some casual entrance, maybe a rushed apology about taking too long. But what she got—

What she got completely knocked the air from her lungs.

Azzi stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the warm light of the hallway behind her. The black dress clung to her like a second skin—elegant, sleek, the kind of dress that looked like it had been designed for only one person. It dipped low, revealing enough chest to make Paige blink, hard. But it wasn’t just the dress.

Her hair.

Azzi had straightened it.

For the first time since her prom.

Paige’s heart twisted.

She remembered that night like it was yesterday—the way she had smiled for pictures with Azzi earlier in the day, careful to avoid lingering touches in front of their friends. The way she had watched, silent and burning, as someone else picked Azzi up for the dance. Her girlfriend. Taken by someone else because they weren’t allowed to be public back then. Because they were scared.

She’d told herself it didn’t matter. But it had. God, it had.

And now?

Now Azzi stood in front of her, radiant and powerful, straight hair tucked behind her ears, a soft nude lip and lashes that made her dark eyes somehow even more intense. No date tonight. No hiding. Just them.

Paige didn’t realize she’d stepped forward until she was standing just inches away, jaw slack, hands trembling at her sides.

“You’re…” Her voice cracked. She swallowed. “You’re unreal.”

Azzi smiled, slow and knowing. “You like?”

“I can’t even answer that without sounding feral,” Paige muttered, eyes raking down the length of her body, the dress dipping just low enough and hugging just right.

Azzi laughed softly, brushing invisible lint off Paige’s chest. “You clean up nice too, superstar.”

Paige’s fingers twitched at her sides. God, she wanted to touch her. She wanted to feel every inch the dress teased. Her palms ached to trail down Azzi’s back, her waist, to rest possessively on her hips. But her makeup. The cameras. The rules they’d made for themselves—private, not a secret, but still… careful.

Azzi leaned in, whispering, “You’re staring.”

“Of course I’m staring. Have you seen you?” Paige exhaled. “You haven’t worn your hair like this since prom.”

Azzi nodded, and something flickered in her eyes. “Yeah. Thought maybe it was time.”

Paige didn’t say anything. She just looked at her—really looked at her.

“You were so beautiful that night,” she said finally. “And I couldn’t tell anyone you were mine. Couldn’t even touch you like I wanted.”

Azzi’s gaze softened. “But tonight?”

Paige took a shaky breath, brushing the back of her knuckles along the curve of Azzi’s waist—barely a whisper of a touch. She stepped in just a little closer, until their bodies nearly touched.

“Tonight, I’m taking you to the draft,” she murmured, her voice low and intimate. “As mine.”

Azzi’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Her hands slid up to rest lightly on Paige’s lapels, fixing her collar with a gentleness that made Paige’s heart swell.

Then there was a beat of silence, charged and soft. Paige’s gaze dropped to Azzi’s lips, perfectly glossed. She leaned in instinctively, but paused just before contact.

“I wanna kiss you,” she whispered, “but I don’t wanna ruin your makeup.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “Then don’t ruin it.”

So Paige didn’t.

She tilted her head and brushed her lips just beneath Azzi’s jawline instead, warm and lingering. A sigh slipped from Azzi’s mouth, quiet and breathy.

Paige’s hands slid lower again, dragging gently down the sides of the dress, across her waist, her hips, her thighs. The silk was smooth under her palms, but it was Azzi’s body that stole her breath—soft and strong, all curves and comfort and home.

“You’re gonna be the most beautiful one there,” Paige murmured against her skin. “And I’m not gonna survive it.”

Azzi laughed, flush creeping down her chest. “You really like the dress?”

“I want to burn every other black dress you’ve ever worn so this is the only one that exists.”

Another laugh, fuller this time. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige kissed her collarbone. “You love it.”

“I do.”

They stood like that for a moment longer—wrapped in a hush of something sacred, something steady. Paige pulled away slowly, her thumb tracing one last path along Azzi’s side.

“You ready to go?” she asked, quieter now.

Azzi nodded, reaching for Paige’s hand. “Only if we go together.”

The cameras flashed as they walked into the venue side by side.

They didn’t hold hands.

But the way Paige looked at Azzi—hungry and proud and in love—was louder than any public display.

And later, when the lights dimmed and the world applauded her name as the first overall pick, Paige didn’t look at the cameras.

She looked at Azzi.

Because that was the only dream she’d ever really wanted to come true.

[81pastrys]

Hey it's me again (smut requester) and for the emoji can I use 🏎️ this one pls? Anyway I've got another request where reader is feeling needy but Landos away at like a triple header so to explore she looks up some fanfics and eventually falls into like a routine of reading them and once Lando is back he catches her one night and it's rlly kinky or smth (maybe a sir kink if ur up for it 👀) and he like teases her about it and recreates it and stuff ( I need holy water I've got so many more scenarios help😭😭)

-🏎️

Fanfic Fun

Summary— Lando catches his girlfriend reading fanfiction and decides they should act it out

Warnings— SMUT ; fanfic recreation ; body worship ; edging ; teasing ; overstimulation? ; aftercare ; sir kink

A/N— 🏎️ I love ur request sm !!

Lando One Shots

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Lando went away for a triple header, leaving her home alone for the 3 weeks. She had work to do and so did he, meaning they have to do a bit of long distance. It was harder at first, but now they got the hang of call scheduling and such.

Nearly a week in she was basically sexting him. He would laugh mid conversation with someone or mid meeting and blow it off when someone asked about it. She giggled after texting him, knowing she had that effect on him.

When the nights got longer and the days stretched too slow, she went to her phone for relief of her sexual desires. Lando’s fans were quite good at writing out scenarios. Of course she would use an alias, not wanting fans to flip out.

She would like and like so many, only few actually intriguing her to touch herself. There were a few she’d come back to, not many. It became an unhealthy habit. Lando wasn’t able to call, let me find the fanfic for it. Lando wasn’t responding, there’s a fanfic written on it.

She got so caught up in doing it, she didn’t break the habit when he came home two weeks after she started. She had her phone opened on quite an insane fanfic, she kept returning, the wording perfect and the description was top tier.

“Hey my love.” Lando greeted, walking in their shared room. She briefly put the phone down, but didn’t lock it. “What are you reading?” He questioned. She wasn’t much of a reader.

“Nothing, some stupid twitter article.” She lied. She locked her phone and Lando caught on. He gave her a confused look and she laughed. “What?” She asked him.

“Some stupid Twitter article?” He asked slowly to make sure she caught how dumb it sounded. “Baby you don’t read normal tweets let alone articles.” He said. He grabbed her phone, her reaching for it before it unlocked to his face.

“Lando don’t-“ She started but he was already reading the post. He read it out to her and she blushed. She snatched her phone before he got to the good part.

“You’ve been reading fan fiction of me?” He asked. “Do I not satisfy you enough?” He was slightly joking. She was still red in the face.

“Maybe, but you were gone three weeks lan!” She argued. He brought up a point that he was very much there now. He grabbed her phone again and read the fiction more. She knew what part he was at by his facial expression.

“Sir?!” He asked. She reached but he pulled the phone away. “Please sir, she begged while he continued to edge her?!” He read off. “Lay back, we’re doing this.” He was dead serious but she thought he was joking so she laughed.

“You’re serious?” She asked. He handed her the phone and nodded his head. “Lando! No.” She said. He shrugged and began to walk away. “Fuck fine, I really need you.” She whined.

“I want you to scroll where it starts and read it off for me.” He said, taking off her sleep shorts. She obliged and scrolled to the meat of the fic.

He slipped two fingers in her slick cunt, slowly curling them. She squirmed while he teased her insides with a devilish smirk on his face.

He followed every word. She read it off like she wrote it. “Baby, how many times have you read this?” He asked, she basically reading it from memory as he followed.

“Too many times for you not to listen- fuck!” She moaned out.

He got her dangerously close to her orgasm but pulled away, bringing his fingers to her mouth for a taste. She moaned around his fingers. He kissed her body like she was an angel, worshipping her.

He returned his teasing fingers to her slick and gathered it before sucking his own fingers. He moaned around them, before bringing them down to tease her clit. He added them back inside her tight cunt, making her squirm and whine.

“Please sir!” She begged while he continued to edge her. “I promise I won’t be a brat again.” She moaned out to him as his fingers work torturously slow inside her again.

“That’s a blank promise love, say it like you actually mean it.” He taunted. She whined and squirmed as his fingers brought her close again.

Lando listened and followed her words, edging her to another climax. She hated how into this she was, not only reading her favorite writing of him, but experiencing it was the cherry on top. “Lan, please!” She whined to him, her phone falling to the bed.

Lando took her phone and left off where she was, not able to read it as smoothly as she did. He stuttered on words as his fingers worked her to another climax she wouldn’t get. She read the fic too many times to know that.

“Two more times my love.” Lando promised. “Remember the 8 strikes? Half is edging and half is orgasms.”

Lando huffed a breath of surprise at the line. He liked this alter ego that was written. He set the phone down, taking matters into his own hands -literally - and edging her two more times before skipping in the fic to after that.

Lando took his dick out and slapped it against her clit making her jump. He lined himself up and only pushed in about an inch. She felt so tight around the inch, he couldn’t hold back. He thrusted quickly, causing a painful moan to escape her lips.

“Only 4 today love, that’s all.” He reminded her, as if she didn’t know. He slowly grinded his hips into hers. She came rather quickly from being edged and he chuckled at how easy it was to get her over the edge she sought after.

The next orgasm took them both by surprise, she arched her back and he pushed her back down. His hand wrapped around her throat as she struggled and begged. “Please sir- Lando!” She screamed out.

She said the line in sync with Lando, the fiction becoming real and she climaxed. Lando liked the control he had, not like any other time. He threw her phone on the night stand and disregarded the rest of the fic, he knew she had two more orgasms.

“Two more love, that’s not hard huh?” He teased. She pushed at his hips and he slowed down, grinding into her slowly, teasingly, annoyingly.

“You missed the best part.” She panted, reaching for her phone and finding the part she so badly wanted him to recreate. “Please sir, please cum in me.” She recited and Lando groaned at just the thought.

He flipped them, seeing as his legs were tiring out. Her legs were shaking while straddling him, but nonetheless she bounced herself up and down, feeling an orgasm.

“Please lan- sir- fuck.” She moaned. He twitched at the new name, unprovoked by reading. He met her movements and she came again, crumbling on top of him. Her legs were shaking so much. “Fuck!!” She whined.

“Such a good girl for me, one more and I’ll fill you up yeah?” He whispered in her ear, seeing as she collapsed the last orgasm. She whined and nodded on his chest as his movements never wavered.

She came for the last time and Lando fulfilled his promise, spilling his hot cum inside her. They stayed where they were for a while. She laid on his chest, calming down and relaxing. She briefly forgot he was inside her and clenched, moaning at the feeling of still being filled.

“Fuck don’t do that.” Lando strained. His hands rubbed up and down her sides. Her soft skin grounding him back to the reality of having to clean up. “Did you enjoy that?” He teased.

“Too much for my own good.” She said.

The next day she returned to the post and commented ‘it’s even better when he acts it out for you’ media going nuts believing it’s her, but the name was inconspicuous.

You think this has happened before?! I think so.

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part One

Summary: Six years after Spencer Reid left you all alone in your dorm room, you’ve moved on and built a new life in Virginia, becoming close friends with Derek Morgan. When Spencer unexpectedly reappears as part of Derek’s team, old feelings resurface.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, friendly fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, past rejection, reflecting on past hurt, seeing the person who hurt you, Spencer still being a dumb man, talks of past hook ups

Word count: 9.2k

a/n: hiiii this is kind of a filler? it's just a lot of angst and build up for the reconciliation 👀

main masterlist prologue part two part three part four

Six years later, Reid sat on the back of an ambulance, the adrenaline of the situation slowly ebbing away as medics checked him over. His hair was mussed, and his face bore bruises from the day's takedown, but his eyes were clear, focused, if a little distant. Hotch approached, relief etched across his face, but concern still lingering in his eyes as he looked down at Reid.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch said, his tone light, though laced with genuine worry.

Reid glanced up, then looked off into the distance, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Hotch,” he said, pausing for just a moment before meeting his gaze, “I was a 12-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school.” He let the statement hang in the air for effect before adding, “You kick like a 9-year-old girl.”

Hotch’s serious expression cracked into a grin, the tension of the day releasing in that shared moment of humor. He gave Reid an appreciative nod, proud that even now, even after everything, he could find a way to see the light in the darkness. They’d taken a risk to apprehend the unsub—a risk that had paid off. The case was closed, and most importantly, Spencer was okay.

Once the team returned to Quantico, Penelope Garcia came barreling toward them like a whirlwind, eyes wide with concern as she made a beeline for Spencer. 

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked, fussing over him, brushing nonexistent dust off his jacket. “I heard what happened, and I nearly had a heart attack, and you know how hard I work to keep this heart in tip-top shape.”

Derek let out a chuckle, looping an arm around Spencer's shoulders and giving him a good-natured shake. “Don't worry, Baby Girl,” he said. “Pretty Boy here is tougher than he looks.”

Elle stood nearby, a smirk tugging at her lips. “So what do you say, Reid? Can we take you out for a drink to celebrate? Show you a little team bonding now that we’re back in one piece?”

The offer made Spencer stiffen, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes. He hadn’t had his first drink yet—never quite found the right moment. His last encounter with alcohol flashed through his mind, from when he was still working on his PhD. He'd been at a party, talking to someone he wanted to take home... until they got too drunk and threw up on him, which put him off the idea of drinking ever since.

“Uhh,” Spencer started, rubbing the back of his neck as he awkwardly shrugged Derek’s arm off. “I’m not sure—”

“Nuh-uh,” Derek cut him off with a playful but firm shake of his head. “None of that, kid. You’re part of this team, and it’s time we show you what that means. Drinks on us. One drink won’t hurt, right?” 

Spencer looked between them—Derek’s grin, Elle’s teasing smile, and Penelope’s excited nodding—and felt the reluctant pull of acceptance. They weren’t going to take no for an answer, and for a moment, he let himself relax. Maybe a night out with the team wouldn't be so bad.

The bar was loud and buzzing with life. The team was clustered around a table, drinks in hand, and the mood was light, almost celebratory. Laughter echoed over clinking glasses as Derek teased Spencer about finally being out for drinks, Elle and JJ swapped jokes, and Hotch even cracked a rare smile as Penelope regaled everyone with her overly-dramatic reenactment of their last case. Spencer found himself laughing along, more relaxed than he thought he’d be, though he stayed firmly planted with his untouched glass of club soda.

Amid the fun, Derek's phone buzzed loudly, and he stood to answer it, holding up a hand to excuse himself. “Hold that thought, guys,” he said, flashing his signature grin as he walked a little away from the table, pressing the phone to his ear. The team continued their conversation, only pausing when Derek returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, guys,” he said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “My lady is in distress; I gotta go rescue her from a bad date.”

That earned a round of good-natured chuckles from the team. Elle raised an eyebrow, asking, “Need us to come with, knight in shining armor?”

But Spencer, the one to always take things literally, frowned in confusion. “Your girlfriend is on a date with someone else?” he asked, tilting his head like he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle.

That only made everyone laugh harder, JJ practically doubling over and Hotch shaking his head with amusement. Derek just clapped Spencer on the back, his chuckle deep and hearty. 

Penelope, ever the playful dramatist, wiped away an imaginary tear. “As much as it pains me that my Chocolate Thunder has another woman in his life,” she sighed, draping an arm dramatically over her forehead, “that’s his best friend, not his girlfriend. He’s just playing superhero tonight.”

“Yeah, she’s just my little lady,” Derek explained, still smiling as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “And trust me, she needs saving from some pretty questionable dates.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his eyes darting around as if processing this new piece of social information, a small “ohhh” escaping his lips as he finally understood. The rest of the team just laughed and clinked their glasses together, waving Derek off as he headed out to play the role of rescuer once again.

—

You smiled awkwardly, forcing a laugh as you tapped your foot under the table, hoping the nervous rhythm would hide your growing discomfort. Across from you, your date sat with an overly self-satisfied grin, clearly pleased with themselves for whatever joke they’d just told. 

“Funny, right?” they said, leaning back confidently, their voice loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Mhm,” you nodded, plastering on your best smile, the kind you’d practiced for uncomfortable situations just like this. “So funny.” 

The date was dragging on, each minute feeling like an hour, and you kept glancing at the exit, hoping for some way to end it without seeming rude. You were running out of excuses when finally, you heard a familiar, steady voice that filled you with instant relief.

“Y/N! Baby!” Derek’s voice boomed from behind you, his face contorted into a fake, but convincingly angry, expression as he made his way over to your table. “It’s time to go,” he said through gritted teeth, playing the role perfectly.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, exaggerating your surprise as you quickly gathered your things, casting a regretful glance at your bewildered date. “Sorry, I have to—um, gotta go, you know how it is.”

“Now,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he reached for your arm with a protective grip. You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips as he pulled you away, your heart racing with gratitude at how he always showed up just in time to save you from situations exactly like this.

As soon as the two of you stepped outside, you burst into laughter, the tension from the horrible date evaporating with each breathless chuckle. “What was that?” you cried out in amusement, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath.

Derek grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I thought it would be funny to make it look like you were cheating on me,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You laughed again, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. “Wow, thanks, Derek. That’s just great! I’m sure they think I’m a horrible person now.”

“Better they think that than you being stuck in there any longer,” he teased, shrugging playfully. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to believe they were dating me?” He gave a mock-innocent smile, and you couldn't help but laugh harder, grateful that your night had turned from painfully awkward to genuinely fun—all thanks to your "knight" in his shining sense of humor.

—

After graduation, you packed up and moved to Virginia, seeking a fresh start and the next chapter of your life. It didn’t take long for you to meet Derek Morgan—charismatic, warm, and the kind of person who instantly made you feel like you’d known each other forever. Quickly, you were inseparable, your friendship deepening with every shared joke, every late-night conversation.

When you first met Derek, it wasn’t at a bar, but in the paint aisle of a hardware store. He was standing there, staring at the rows of paint swatches like they might leap off the shelf and attack him, clearly out of his element. You, meanwhile, were lost in your shopping list, trying to mentally organize what you needed. It wasn’t until you absentmindedly turned and bumped into him, sending a few swatches fluttering to the floor, that either of you spoke.

“Oh, sorry!” you said, laughing awkwardly as you bent to pick up the fallen cards. “I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem,” Derek replied with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Though, I think I need all the help I can get. You know anything about paint? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure these swatches are written in a different language.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the paint chips in his hand. Normally, you’d have kept to yourself, but something about his friendly demeanor made it easy to offer help. “Well,” you said, pointing at the colors, “if you’re looking for something neutral but warm, I’d go with this one. It’s versatile, and won’t make the room feel too dark.”

Derek grinned, visibly relieved. “I like the way you think. You might’ve just saved me from turning my place into a disaster.”

That lighthearted, slightly awkward interaction became the start of an unexpected friendship. You didn’t realize it then, but Derek saw more than just someone who could offer advice on paint. He noticed the cautious way you carried yourself, the hesitation in your voice, and the guarded way you held back, even in a simple conversation. It was subtle, but Derek could sense it—that you were someone who had been hurt, someone who was used to keeping people at arm’s length.

It was in that moment, after you helped him, that Derek decided he wasn’t going to let you disappear into the background. He saw someone who needed a friend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and he was determined to be that person for you.

He pushed his way into your world, piece by piece, until you found yourself leaning on him, confiding in him, and letting him be the kind of friend you never thought you'd find again. Derek was determined to be there for you, and in a way you never saw coming, he had become the person who would stand by you, even when you were reluctant to let him in.

Over time, you confided in Derek about your college heartbreak, sharing all the hurt, the confusion, and the sense of betrayal that still lingered. You never mentioned names, though—the pain was still too raw, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it in more detail than necessary. Derek listened, always understanding, never pressing for more than you were ready to share. He knew when to joke to make you laugh and when to sit in silence to let you breathe.

At first, the attraction between you and Derek was undeniable. His charming smile, his confidence—it was easy to get lost in that. One night, curiosity and chemistry got the better of you both, and you found yourselves in a brief, passionate rendezvous. But once the moment passed, you both realized that while there was undeniable physical chemistry, the emotional spark that would take you beyond a fling wasn’t there.

So, you stayed friends—really good friends. And it was a decision that felt right. Derek became your closest companion, someone you trusted deeply, someone who knew all of you without needing to be anything more than your best friend. And from then on, your bond was stronger than any attraction that had once been between you.

Derek had always been eager to introduce you to his team, his “family,” as he called them. But every time he brought it up, you found yourself hesitant, a lingering anxiety wrapping tightly around your chest. The thought of meeting a group of strangers made your pulse quicken, and after what happened with Spencer, you found it hard to let people in—afraid that they’d get close only to walk out when you finally let your guard down.

But Derek was persistent. He’d reassure you that they’d love you, that they were good people, that they’d make you feel right at home. And after months of coaxing, he finally wore you down. So on the night he arranged for everyone to meet at a bar, you arrived early, nerves buzzing through you as you kept fidgeting with your glass of water, the ice clinking noisily. Derek sat beside you, his hand casually draped over the back of your chair, giving you little reassuring nudges and playful teasing to calm you down. 

It wasn’t long before they arrived—Elle, JJ, Hotch, and Penelope. They came in together, the energy between them electric and warm, like a group who had seen each other through everything and then some. You felt the weight of their eyes on you as Derek quickly waved them over, and before you knew it, introductions were happening all at once. 

Elle, with her steady, confident smile. JJ, kind and instantly friendly, making you feel a little more at ease. Hotch was reserved but polite, offering you a nod that felt more comforting than intimidating. And Penelope—bright, enthusiastic, and full of life—immediately pulled you into a hug that you didn’t quite expect but somehow needed.

“Welcome to the team... kinda!” Penelope laughed, pulling back to look you up and down, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

The team was warm, and their humor put you at ease more than you expected. “Derek told me you were gorgeous, but wow!” Penelope said, grinning as she gestured to your outfit. “He did not do you justice! I should've known he’d undersell a masterpiece.”

You blushed, ducking your head, and Derek rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, come on, Garcia, now you’re just making her nervous,” he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the playful teasing.

“Someone has to make up for your terrible intro,” Elle joked, raising her drink in your direction. “He probably didn’t even tell you our names before dragging you here, did he?”

“Well, actually—” you started to defend him, but JJ leaned in with a grin.

“Oh, he probably did,” she said, flashing a knowing smile. “But did he tell you the good stuff? Because Hotch over here is not just any team leader—he’s secretly a rock star at karaoke.”

Hotch looked up from his drink, arching an eyebrow with mock disapproval. “Secretly, JJ?” he said dryly. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who signed us all up for ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ last time.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, light and airy, with everyone sharing bits of their day and funny anecdotes about past cases. You were finally feeling like you could relax, laughing along with the team and even chiming in here and there. Penelope asked about your work, Hotch teased Derek about his dedication to “fitness,” and JJ leaned in with questions about your interests, trying to make you feel comfortable.

Then Elle, who had been quietly observing, tilted her head with a curious smile. “So, Y/N,” she said, her eyes twinkling with humor, “we heard Derek had to save you from a bad date last week.”

A groan escaped you before you could help it, and Derek let out a bark of laughter beside you. “Oh, man, don’t make her relive that nightmare,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said, smiling despite yourself as all eyes turned to you, eager for details. “I mean... yeah, I was on a pretty terrible date. The kind where you just... start praying for a natural disaster to get you out of there.”

Penelope gasped, holding a hand to her heart. “Spill! What happened?”

“Okay, okay,” you said, waving your hands, “So I’m sitting there, right? And this person—well, let’s just say they were a little too confident. They started cracking all these jokes that were... I mean, I think they thought they were funny, but they were more like... really weird stand-up comedy? And then, out of nowhere, they start quizzing me on, like, the most random trivia ever.”

JJ snorted into her drink. “Like what?”

“Like, ‘What’s the capital of Paraguay?’” you said, imitating your date’s deep, overly-serious tone. “And when I didn’t know, he looked at me like I just insulted his whole family.”

The whole table burst into laughter, and Derek shook his head, leaning back with a smirk. “See, I told you—you dodged a bullet there, lady.”

“And that’s where Derek came in,” you continued, grinning. “He stormed in, looking like an angry boyfriend ready to throw down, and said ‘Baby, we gotta go—now.’ Scared the poor chap half to death.”

“That’s my Derek,” Elle said, raising her glass in a toast.

You shrugged with a playful smile. “Gotta admit, it was a pretty solid rescue.”

Penelope’s eyes shone as she giggled, “I wish I knew I could call on Derek every time I get stuck on a boring date. You’re lucky you used it!”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile turning genuine as you looked over at Derek, who just winked at you. “I am lucky.”

You felt the anxiety still fluttering inside but found yourself starting to relax in the presence of their welcoming smiles. Maybe Derek was right—maybe this could be the start of something good.

But that thought was ruined the moment Spencer walked into the bar, a wave of panic hit you like a tidal wave, your pulse spiking as you leaned into Derek, whispering frantically, “That’s the guy!”

“What guy?” Derek asked, his brow furrowing in concern as he leaned closer.

“The guy from college! The one who led me on? Smashed and dashed? Broke my heart?”

Derek’s eyes went wide as the realization hit him, and he started to push up his sleeves, his expression shifting from confusion to determination. “Oh shit. Which one? I need to go have a little chat with this asshole.”

“That one!” you pointed discreetly, your voice tight with urgency. “String bean, 10 o’clock.”

Derek’s gaze followed your finger, his mouth opening in disbelief. “Spencer?”

“Wait,” you froze, eyes darting between Derek and Spencer. “How do you know Spencer?”

Derek blinked rapidly, running a hand over his face. “No way. No fucking way.”

“What, Derek, what?” you asked, anxiety gnawing at your insides.

“Derek, what’s going on?” Elle asked, noticing the tension suddenly spiking at the table.

But before either of you could explain, Spencer was already walking toward your group. And without hesitation, Derek shouted across the room, loud enough for the whole bar to hear, “Spencer Reid, you whore!”

The bar fell into stunned silence, every conversation dropping as heads turned toward Derek and then to Spencer, who froze mid-step. The confused, panicked look on Spencer’s face was mirrored by the team around you, all of them staring at Derek as if waiting for some kind of explanation. 

But none of that mattered, because the second Derek’s words hung in the air, you felt like you were going to combust. Your chest tightened, your ears burned, and you needed to escape—now. 

You couldn’t bear the sight of Spencer standing there, eyes wide and confused, especially not when he looked so good—his curls a bit longer, his frame more filled out but still carrying that awkwardly endearing energy you remembered all too well. It only made the hurt twist deeper in your chest, the flood of memories rushing back as if no time had passed at all.

Before anyone could say a word, you bolted out of your seat, practically running toward the exit, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you pushed through the door, away from the memories, the hurt, and the undeniable pull that Spencer still seemed to have on you.

After Derek’s loud declaration, the team was left bumbling in confusion, their chatter overlapping as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Wait, what did you just say?” JJ asked, her eyes darting between Derek and Spencer, trying to catch up. 

“Did you just call Reid a whore?” Elle added, her voice rising with disbelief.

Hotch's expression hardened with concern and confusion, his eyes narrowing at Derek. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”

Meanwhile, Penelope’s gaze darted frantically between you, Derek, and the stunned Spencer, her mouth hanging open as if trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. “Okay, someone fill me in, because this is getting juicy—”

Through it all, Derek’s eyes were locked on Spencer like a hawk eyeing its prey, shoulders squared, jaw tight, and very ready to pounce. Spencer was still standing frozen in place, his expression an awkward mix of shock, confusion, and now—seeing Derek’s glare—genuine fear. He didn’t know whether to step forward, run, or explain himself. It was as if the whole bar had gone silent, the weight of everyone's eyes pressing down on him like a spotlight he couldn’t escape.

“Pretty boy,” Derek said, his voice low and almost menacing as he kept his eyes locked on Spencer. The tension between them was palpable, the friendly atmosphere of moments ago evaporating into something heavy and dangerous. “Over here. Now.”

Spencer swallowed hard, glancing around the bar as if trying to find an escape route, but there was none—just the team’s bewildered faces and Derek’s unwavering stare. Slowly, hesitantly, he started walking toward the table, his eyes darting nervously between the team and Derek, clearly aware that whatever was going on was about to explode. 

The whole team was silent, eyes wide as they watched the confrontation unfold, utterly confused but drawn in, unable to look away.

“What’s going on, Derek?” Spencer’s voice came out weak, barely holding it together as he stood awkwardly in front of the table, hands fidgeting at his sides. He glanced nervously at Derek’s clenched jaw, clearly realizing this wasn’t just some joke he wasn’t in on.

Derek huffed, his eyes narrowing further as he stood up to step closer to Spencer, his presence towering over him. “Y/N Y/L,” he said, the name coming out like a loaded accusation. “Ring a bell?”

The color drained from Spencer’s face, his expression shifting from confusion to sheer panic. Of course, he knew that name. He knew it well—he’d never forgotten. You never gave him your full name, but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting to know everything about you after that night. And so, in a moment of curiosity, guilt, and longing, he’d used his professor access to look you up in the university directory, hoping to learn more, hoping to... maybe reach out. But he'd never followed through, instead burying that memory deep, where he thought it would stay forever.

Now, that past had clawed its way to the surface. Spencer gulped, eyes wide, his voice coming out as a barely audible mumble. “Um... why?”

The whole team’s heads bobbed back and forth between the two men like they were watching a tennis match, confusion written all over their faces. JJ’s brow furrowed in disbelief, Elle leaned forward as if ready to pounce on whatever truth was about to spill out, and Penelope’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, biting back a question to let the moment unfold.

“Because she was just sitting here,” Derek said, his voice darkening with barely contained anger, “and when you walked in, she ran out.”

The weight of his words dropped like a bomb, and the team’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. It took a moment for the pieces to fall into place, but when they did, the tension in the air became almost suffocating.

“Wait...” Elle gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as the realization hit her. “Is that what Y/N was whispering about?”

JJ's eyes darted to Spencer, shock and disappointment painted across her face. “Oh my god, Spencer!” she exclaimed, her voice rising above the din of the bar. “What did you do?”

Spencer's head hung low, his face pale as all eyes landed on him, his teammates' judgment clear in their expressions. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out—he was caught between the truth, the shame, and the past he’d tried so hard to forget.

The tall man let out a long breath and sat down heavily at the table, facing the expectant and confused gazes of his team. He hesitated, struggling to find the right words, the truth weighed down by layers of regret and fear. But there was no hiding from this now, and he knew he had to explain.

“I... I didn’t really talk about this before, but during my PhD days, I had a bit of a... busy intimate life,” he started, his voice low and wavering. He avoided eye contact, staring at the table like he could find his words hidden in the wood grain. “I was young, and it was my first time experiencing freedom like that. There were a lot of... flings, one-time things. A lot of people came and went.”

The team remained silent, eyes fixed on him, soaking in every word. Hotch sat back with his arms crossed, his face unreadable, while JJ and Penelope exchanged a shocked glance. Elle leaned in, not wanting to miss a single detail.

“And then I met Y/N,” Spencer continued, a small, wistful smile ghosting over his lips at the memory. “We started out just... bumping into each other, especially in the library. Thursdays became our thing, and before I knew it, we were friends—real friends. And I... I fell for her, hard.”

Derek’s jaw tightened as Spencer spoke, clearly trying to hold his tongue. But he stayed silent, trying to remain calm and listen, though his knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“One night, before the summer break, we hung out and... well, things got intimate,” Spencer confessed, his voice trailing off as if he could still remember every detail of that night. “But then, afterward, I... panicked. I’d been left before by people who only wanted one thing, and I was so sure Y/N would do the same. So I left before she could leave me. I thought I was protecting myself.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the team processing everything they’d just heard. Penelope’s mouth hung open in disbelief, and JJ’s face was a mix of understanding and disappointment. Elle just stared, eyes wide as she tried to piece together this new side of Spencer she had never seen before.

Derek leaned back, trying to take deep breaths to stay objective, but it was clear he was struggling to reconcile this side of Spencer with the man he knew—and with your story, the pain you'd carried for so long.

Finally, the silence broke when Elle, still processing everything, blurted out, “I thought you were a virgin.”

The unexpected comment drew a stifled chuckle from Hotch, who quickly tried to cover it with a cough, shaking his head as he glanced away to regain his composure. Spencer shot a look of offense around the table, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“That’s not the point,” Derek said sharply, steering the conversation back to its heart. His tone softened but stayed firm. “You broke her heart, kid.”

Spencer’s expression crumbled with shame, his eyes dropping to his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I... I didn’t know that,” he said quietly, sounding more vulnerable than any of them had ever heard him. “She was... she was here? Tonight?”

Penelope nodded solemnly, her usually bright demeanor clouded with concern. “Yeah, she was sitting right with us,” she said gently. “She ran out. Spencer, she ran right past you.” 

Spencer’s face fell, the weight of what he’d done settling heavily on his shoulders as he replayed the moment in his mind—the stranger rushing past, too fast for him to recognize, too wrapped in his own world to realize the depth of pain he had caused.

—

Flashback

After you fell asleep with your head resting on Spencer’s chest, he stayed awake, propped up on one arm, his other hand idly tracing shapes on your back. The rise and fall of your gentle breaths sent soft puffs of warmth against his skin, and the sound of your slow, even breathing filled the quiet room. Spencer watched you with a tender smile on his face, his heart swelling with every peaceful sigh you let out.

For that moment, everything was perfect—the warmth of your body against his, the soft glow of the moonlight through the window, and the quiet intimacy of sharing a bed after everything that had happened between you. He couldn't help but let his thoughts wander, to imagine waking up like this every morning, to imagine the rest of his life with you beside him, sharing sleepy smiles and whispered secrets in the quiet of dawn.

And that's when the panic hit.

The thought of getting so close to you, of letting his heart fall so fully and completely for you, terrified him. He had spent so long protecting himself, closing off his emotions to keep from being hurt, that the idea of letting you in was too overwhelming. He was sure that, like everyone else, you’d leave, and he didn't think he could handle the pain if it came from you. He felt the fear grip him tight, his pulse quickening as he realized what it meant—that he had to go, now, before he fell any deeper.

As much as it broke his heart, Spencer carefully slipped out from under you, moving inch by inch to keep from waking you. But when he finally pulled away, your face scrunched up in your sleep, and your arm reached out instinctively, searching for the place he had just been. The sight nearly broke him, and for a moment, he almost crawled back into bed, almost let himself stay.

But the fear was stronger. He left, quietly slipping out into the dark, knowing he would never see you again, knowing that the one chance at something real was lost the second he closed that door behind him.

—

As soon as you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, the soft sheets barely registering beneath you as you clung to a pillow, burying your face in it. The tears came fast, heavy sobs shaking your body as the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally poured out. Memories of Spencer rushed back in a flood—the way he’d held you, the tender words he’d whispered in the quiet of the night, and the intimacy you had shared.

You knew, even before it happened, that sleeping with him was a mistake. You’d told yourself as much a thousand times. But the moment he left you, without so much as a word afterward, it felt like that final blow to your heart—confirming everything you feared. The pain of being abandoned, of realizing that maybe you had meant nothing to him after all, tore at you with a fierceness that left you breathless. You hugged the pillow tighter, the softness no comfort to the ache inside.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, every emotion too overwhelming to bear. The embarrassment of bolting from the bar in front of Spencer’s team, the fear of realizing he was now part of your immediate circle, and the deep grief over what could have been. It was too much. The tears had left your eyes swollen and your throat raw, your body exhausted from the turmoil swirling inside you.

When you woke the next morning, groggy and disoriented, the sound of your phone buzzing pulled you from the comfort of sleep. Fumbling for it, you squinted at the screen before bringing it to your ear, your voice thick with sleep. “Hello?” you managed, slurred through the haze of morning grogginess.

“Hey, baby,” Derek’s familiar, warm voice sighed through the line. “I’m at your door with tea. Let me in?”

A disgruntled huff escaped you, not exactly ready to face the day, but you still dragged yourself out of bed. You padded over to the door and opened it, finding Derek standing there with two cups of tea and a look of understanding. Without saying a word, you took the cup he offered, wrapping your hands around the warmth and letting it soothe the ache in your chest as you sipped.

Wordlessly, the two of you made your way to your tiny balcony, the fresh morning air brushing softly against your skin. You both settled into the cozy, cushioned nook—Derek’s arm draped over your shoulder as you leaned into his warmth. The silence stretched between you, comfortable and unpressured. Derek didn’t push you to speak, letting you take your time, knowing you needed the quiet after everything.

For a long while, the soft hum of the city below and the gentle sway of plants on your balcony were the only sounds filling the space. It wasn’t until you’d both nearly finished your tea that Derek finally spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with care, his gaze watching you carefully, ready to listen.

You sighed heavily, your fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of your mug. “I never thought I’d see him again,” you admitted, shaking your head as you tried to process the shock of it all. “What are the odds?”

Derek, ever the one to lighten the mood, snorted softly. “I bet Spencer would know the answer to that,” he quipped, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You turned to glare at him, shooting him a look that clearly said not funny. Derek raised his hands in surrender, his grin faltering. “Sorry. Too soon?”

You nodded, sighing as you leaned back into the cushions. “It’s always too soon with... him,” you said, your voice weighed down by all the unspoken emotions you hadn’t yet unpacked.

Derek shifted beside you, the teasing gone from his expression now as he grew serious again. “He told us what happened, you know?” he said quietly, as if trying not to make it worse but knowing you had to hear it.

Your chest tightened at the thought, embarrassment rising again. “Great,” you muttered, your voice tinged with bitterness. “That’s even more humiliating. The entire team knows now?”

“Yeah,” Derek admitted softly, nodding as he looked at you with sympathy. “But they also know it was him who messed up, not you.”

You stared down into your cup, feeling the sting of tears welling up again, threatening to spill over. The warmth of Derek beside you was a comfort, but it wasn’t enough to lift the heavy burden pressing on your chest. His words, meant to soothe, only left you feeling more confused, more vulnerable.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper, your voice shaky with emotion. You didn’t dare look up, afraid that making eye contact would break the fragile barrier keeping the tears at bay.

Derek took a deep breath, shifting slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “At the bar, after you ran out... Spencer sat down with the team, and we... we didn’t know what was going on at first. So we asked.”

You finally looked up at him, your brows furrowing slightly, a mix of anticipation and dread building in your stomach.

“He told us about his time during his PhD,” Derek continued gently, his voice calm, as if he was trying to soften the blow. “Said he... he slept around a lot back then, had a lot of one-night things, you know? And then he met you. Told us how you two became friends, how it wasn’t like the other times.”

Your heart clenched at his words. Hearing it from Derek made it real in a way that felt almost unbearable. You squeezed your mug tighter, the warmth doing nothing to soothe the ache in your chest.

“He said after you two slept together,” Derek went on, “he panicked. Thought you’d leave him, like everyone else had. So he left first.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your tears from spilling, but it was no use. You could feel the sharp sting in your throat, the familiar ache of heartache you thought you’d buried long ago. “He left because he thought I’d leave?” you asked, your voice thick with disbelief and hurt.

Derek nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. “Yeah... He thought he was protecting himself. But, obviously, he regrets it now.”

You didn’t know how to respond. The conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, confusion—swirled inside you, leaving you breathless. Spencer had left because he was afraid of losing you, and in doing so, he broke you. And now, all these years later, you were supposed to find comfort in knowing he regretted it?

“So that’s why he never... reached out?” you whispered, more to yourself than to Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek said softly. “He was scared. Scared that you’d see him like all the others did—someone to use and then leave.”

“Basically, he’s a coward and a moron?” you asked, your voice flat but sharp with anger, needing to hear it said out loud to fully grasp the ridiculousness of it all.

Derek chuckled softly, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Yup. That sums it up,” he said, rubbing your arm in slow, soothing circles. His voice remained calm, but he could sense the storm brewing inside you. “Do you think you’ll want to see him again?”

“Fuck no,” you snapped without hesitation, the words coming out harsher than you expected, but you didn’t care. “He ruined any chance he had with me. He broke my heart, and all because he was scared?” The bitterness in your voice rose as the anger bubbled to the surface, mixing with the lingering pain. “I hate him.”

Derek’s smile faded into something softer, more sympathetic as he listened to you vent. He could feel the intensity of your emotions, the raw hurt that still lingered beneath the surface. But he didn’t push you further, just stayed close, offering his quiet support.

“I get it,” he said softly. “You’re allowed to be mad, to feel all of it.”

You nodded, though the tears were already blurring your vision again. The anger felt good, cathartic in a way, but it didn’t take away the hurt. Spencer had shattered something inside you, and no explanation, no regret from him could change that.

Derek stayed with you for the rest of the day, determined to lift your spirits and bring some lightness back into the heavy atmosphere that had settled over you. After the emotional morning, he suggested a change of pace—a "no more thinking about him" kind of day.

The two of you moved back inside, and after raiding your fridge, you ended up sprawled out on the couch with a pile of snacks between you. Derek flipped through channels until he landed on an old action movie, something so absurd and over-the-top it was impossible not to laugh at the cheesy explosions and dramatic one-liners.

As the movie played in the background, you both sat there, munching on chips and teasing each other. “If I ever get into a high-speed chase, I’ll make sure to drive into an alley with just enough space for me to barely escape, but the bad guys can’t,” Derek quipped, waving a chip in the air like it was his master plan.

“Obviously,” you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Because clearly, that’s what makes you invincible.”

“Oh, I’m invincible, baby,” Derek grinned, flexing his arm dramatically. “I don’t need an alley to escape the bad guys.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing at his theatrics. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how ‘invincible’ you are next time you try to carry all the grocery bags at once and drop the eggs.”

Derek clutched his chest in mock horror. “Low blow, Y/N. You know I was saving us from multiple trips.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, tossing a chip at him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Invincible.”

He caught the chip mid-air and popped it into his mouth, smirking as he chewed. “Not everyone can be as perfect as you, baby.”

The day passed in a blur of easy conversation, laughter, and moments of comfortable silence. Derek didn’t push you to talk about anything heavy, and the weight that had sat on your chest all morning began to lift, replaced with the warmth of knowing you had a friend who could make you forget the world for a little while.

By the end of the day, you were curled up under a blanket, feeling lighter than you had in days.

—

“Derek!” Spencer called out, jogging to catch up just as Derek was waiting for the elevator. His breath was a little ragged, his urgency clear. He needed to talk, needed to know.

Derek turned, his eyes scanning Spencer’s face, reading the familiar mix of emotions. He had softened toward Spencer since the initial blow-up, knowing that his friend was hurting too. Spencer had made a mess of things, but he was still one of Derek’s closest friends, and Derek couldn’t ignore his struggle.

“Sup, Reid?” Derek greeted casually, though there was a layer of understanding beneath the light tone.

“Hi, um,” Spencer panted, catching his breath from the jog. “Did you see Y/N again this weekend?”

Derek nodded, his expression softening even further. “Yeah, I did.”

Spencer’s eyes flickered with hope and uncertainty, hesitating before speaking again. He clearly wanted to ask more, but the words seemed caught in his throat. Derek saw the struggle and decided to give him an out.

"Come on, man. Let’s grab a drink," Derek offered, nodding toward the door as the elevator opened. He knew this conversation was going to be heavier than a quick exchange by the elevators.

A little while later, the two of them were sitting side by side at the bar. Their beers sat untouched, the weight of their conversation lingering between them. Spencer had been unusually quiet all night, his usual rambling replaced by a tension that had been hanging over him since he saw you again.

“So,” Spencer began cautiously, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as if the movement could steady his thoughts. “Uh... how’s Y/N been?”

Derek exhaled, setting his beer down with a quiet thud. He hated being caught in the middle of this, but Spencer’s eyes were so full of uncertainty, so full of regret, that Derek couldn’t ignore the question. He had to be honest. “She’s... doing alright,” Derek said carefully, trying not to reveal too much. “Keeping busy. Working on some new projects.”

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he nodded slowly. “That’s good,” he muttered, though the slight tremble in his voice betrayed just how much hearing about you affected him. 

“What, uh, what does she do for work?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously twisting the beer bottle in his hand, his gaze avoiding Derek's for a moment.

Derek sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading but humoring Spencer for now. “She’s an interior designer.”

“Oh, cool,” Spencer muttered, nodding absently, still twirling his beer. There was a beat of silence before he asked, “How did you two meet?”

Derek smiled at the memory, a small chuckle escaping him. “We ran into each other, literally, at a hardware store. I was standing there, staring at paint, and she bumped into me. She ended up helping me pick out a paint color for my walls, and, well, the rest is history.”

“That’s nice,” Spencer said, his voice quieter now, as if he was picturing the scene in his mind. “She, uh, she likes it? The job, I mean?”

“She loves it,” Derek replied with a soft smile, thinking about how passionate you were whenever you talked about your latest project. It was clear how much joy your work brought you, and Derek admired that.

The conversation hovered for a moment, Spencer swirling the beer in his hand, staring into the golden liquid as if it might hold the answers he was looking for. He didn’t dare ask the question that was lingering on the tip of his tongue—Does she ever talk about me?—but Derek could feel it hanging in the air between them, thick with unspoken regret.

Derek leaned back, exhaling softly. He knew Spencer was desperate for some sign, some hope, but he also knew you hadn’t mentioned Spencer much since the first time you told Derek about him, and this most recent run-in. 

But Derek couldn’t lie, and he wasn’t about to give Spencer any false hope. “She doesn’t want to see you, Spencer,” Derek said gently, watching the way Spencer’s expression crumbled, the tiny shred of hope slipping through his fingers. “She’s... still hurt.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, full of regret and guilt. “I know.”

—

The Humane Society was always a favorite outing for you two, mostly because Derek loved the idea of being surrounded by dogs, and you were more than happy to tag along to play with the animals.

You knelt down by one of the cages, your fingers scratching behind the ears of a little brown puppy with floppy ears and bright eyes. “You are too cute,” you cooed, watching as the puppy wagged its tail excitedly. “How is it that I've managed to leave here every time without adopting?”

Derek was busy with a scrappy terrier, laughing as the dog tugged at his shoelaces. “Because I’m here to remind you that you have plants you’ve barely managed to keep alive.”

“Low blow,” you snickered, standing up to join him. “But I could definitely handle one of these guys. Look at their little faces!”

Derek raised an eyebrow, his smile teasing. “Yeah, you say that now, but when you’re knee-deep in chewed shoes and puppy accidents, you’ll be texting me to dog-sit.”

You grinned, nudging his arm as the two of you continued walking down the row of cages. “I think we both know you’d love it.”

“Okay, maybe,” Derek admitted, glancing down at one of the puppies that had followed you to the edge of its cage. “But only because I’d get to play with them all day.”

“Exactly.” You shot him a grin. The day was filled with laughter and excitement, the two of you in your element—just two friends enjoying the company of animals and each other.

—

Derek was in the bullpen when he felt Spencer approach, that familiar presence hovering like a shadow. He looked up from his paperwork, knowing exactly what was coming.

“Hey,” Spencer said, his voice quieter than usual. “Can I ask... has Y/N said anything?”

Derek leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Reid, man, I’ve told you—she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just... I don’t understand how I could’ve hurt her this much. I didn’t think...” He trailed off, unsure of how to explain his regret without making excuses.

Derek rubbed a hand over his face, torn between wanting to protect you and wanting Spencer to see the bigger picture. “Look, I get that you didn’t mean to hurt her. But man, you’ve got to understand—she trusted you. And when you left, it wasn’t just about what happened back then. It’s about the fact that you walked away without a word.”

Spencer blinked, absorbing the weight of Derek’s words. “I didn’t know it would be this bad,” he whispered.

Derek shook his head slightly, his voice firm but not unkind. “That’s the problem, Spencer. You never thought about what it’d do to her. She wasn’t just mad. She was heartbroken.”

—

The sun was warm, and the café’s outdoor seating was just breezy enough to make the day feel perfect. You and Derek sat across from each other, laughing over your latest failed online shopping attempts.

“I swear, I ordered a rug, and it looked like it belonged in a dollhouse when it arrived,” you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. Derek threw his head back with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Y/N, at this point, you should just let me handle your shopping. Your luck is terrible,” he teased, sipping his iced coffee.

“Don’t even try, Morgan. I can’t be trusted to order anything online, but I’m a wizard in an actual store.” You wagged a finger at him before diving into your sandwich. “Besides, you love dragging me around for advice.”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek grinned, “but we’re heading to the home goods store after this. No more rugs, though. Promise me.”

You smirked. “No promises. Let’s see where the wind takes us.”

The rest of the day was filled with easy banter as you roamed the aisles of a nearby store, pointing out throw pillows and quirky decor that caught your eye. Derek kept up the playful commentary, pretending to be appalled at your taste, but you could tell he was having just as much fun as you were.

At one point, he held up a neon-green lamp, his face mock-serious. “This. This is the statement piece your living room has been missing.”

“Oh my god, put that down before it blinds me,” you laughed, shoving him playfully as you moved on to the next aisle.

—

Penelope, Hotch, and JJ were deep in conversation when Derek noticed Spencer hovering nearby, clearly wanting to ask something but too nervous to interrupt. Derek already knew what was coming. It had become a pattern—every few days, Spencer would subtly try to ask about you without making it obvious.

As soon as the group dispersed, Spencer sidled up to Derek, eyes darting nervously around the bullpen. “Did Y/N say anything about... that thing you guys did last weekend?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “We grabbed lunch and went shopping. You want details about the food she ordered, or are you gonna admit what you’re really asking?”

Spencer’s face flushed, his hands twitching at his sides. “I... I just want to know if she’s okay.”

Derek sighed, his expression softening. “She’s okay, Spencer. It was a long time ago. But listen... you need to understand that just because she’s functioning now doesn’t mean she’s not still hurting.” He lowered his voice, giving Spencer a hard look. “If you really want to fix this, you’ve got to stop waiting for her to just be fine and start thinking about what you need to do to make things right.”

Spencer bit his lip, nodding. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but Derek shook his head. “She’s not ready, man. Don’t push.”

—

As you sat in the car, driving back from the movies with Derek, you stared out the window, feeling peaceful. That is, until he finally broke the silence.

“So,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “Talk about what?”

Derek glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly. “Spencer.”

The mention of his name hit you hard, but you quickly forced a smile, brushing it off. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve been great at pretending you’re fine, but I know you better than that. You’re good, but you’re not that good. I am a profiler, sweetheart.”

You sighed, leaning back in your seat. “I’m fine, Derek. I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Derek didn’t respond right away. He pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine, giving you a pointed look. “I know you’re happy, and I’m glad. But pretending those feelings don’t exist doesn’t make them go away.��

You bit your lip, staring down at your hands. “What do you want me to say? That it still hurts? That I’m angry? Because I am. I’m all of those things. But it doesn’t change anything. Spencer’s in the past, and I’m not letting him mess up what I’ve got now.”

Derek’s expression softened, his voice gentle as he leaned back. “I’m not saying you have to do anything. I just don’t want you to keep bottling it up.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension slipping out of your body as you met Derek’s gaze. “I’m fine. Really. But... thanks for asking.”

Derek smiled, nodding as he started the car again. “Alright. Just know I’m here, okay?”

You smiled back, feeling grateful for the reminder. “I know.”

“Would you be willing to talk to him? He’s pretty beaten up about the whole thing,” Derek asked cautiously, his eyes flicking over to you with that careful, almost too-soft look. It was the look he reserved for moments when he didn’t want to push you but knew he had to ask anyway.

Your stomach tightened at the mention of Spencer, the name still carrying more weight than you wanted to admit. You kept your gaze out the window, watching the buildings blur by, pretending the question didn’t send a ripple of unease through your chest.

“Derek…” you started, your voice trailing off, unsure of how to respond. The thought of seeing Spencer again, of opening that old wound, felt like more than you could handle.

“I know,” Derek cut in gently, sensing your hesitation. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was worth it. But I’ve talked to him, Y/N. He’s... not the same guy he was. He messed up, and he knows that.”

You shook your head slightly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your seatbelt. “I don’t know if I can, Derek. He left. Without a word. I don’t know what there is to talk about anymore.”

“I get that,” Derek said softly, his voice low and careful. “But maybe there’s some closure in it for you. And for him. You don’t have to forgive him, but maybe hearing him out would help. For both of you.”

You sighed, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Closure. Did you need it? Or was keeping Spencer in the past the only way to really move on?

“I don’t know,” you murmured finally, your voice thick with uncertainty.

Derek didn’t push any further, his silence a testament to how well he understood you. “It’s your call, babe,” he said after a long pause. “But just think about it. No pressure.”

You nodded slowly, your heart conflicted as you continued staring out the window, the unease still swirling inside you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @written-in-the-stars06

[yumeka-sxf]

After what seemed like an eternity, we're finally having another Yor/Garden arc! And even though it's only been one chapter, so many major reveals have already happened...

First off, it's revealed that the SSS has been working with Garden, seemingly giving them undercover jobs on behalf of the prime minister. I always thought that Garden could potentially be one of the SSS's targets, similar to WISE, since both Garden and WISE are doing their own form of shady dealings without government authority. But this reveal completely changes that...now we know that the already corrupt SSS and government have a working relationship with Garden to do their secret dirty work.

This makes my previous thoughts from chapter 114 about a potential Briar sibling reveal even more intense, since now we know that the two organizations work together and intermingle on a somewhat regular basis. It doesn't seem like Wilker knows that Yor is part of Garden, since the assassins' identities are kept a secret, but a chance encounter with Yuri definitely seems more likely now! I wonder if lower ranking SSS members like Yuri know about the boss's dealings with Garden.

We also learn a lot more about Shopkeeper in this chapter. He appears to be someone who treasures the "old ways" of the country. He speaks fondly about the 16th century mansion that Garden has their meetings in and seems exasperated by all the East-West friction happening in the current times. He makes it clear to Wilker that Garden's main purpose is to protect the nation, not do whatever petty job a politician gives them. He rejects a job to interfere with a soccer match against the West, but eagerly takes on Wilker's other job that involves what Shopkeeper calls "imperial lands," and the deer they're told to protect "divine beings." So yeah, it's pretty clear he values tradition and the past culture of the nation, which is a good thing to know about a character who's been shrouded in mystery for so long.

Another thing we learn is that Belle, the seal from chapter 103, also has a connection with the SSS and prime minister. The way Wilker talks about her to Shopkeeper gave me the impression that they had spoke about the topic before, so maybe Garden was involved too? When does the corruption end, lol.

And the other big reveal in this chapter is...new Garden members!

There's Gympie (who appears to be an actual child and my first thought upon seeing him was "I don't remember this kid from among Naruto's classmates" 👀) and Hemlock, who has some kind of antagonism with Yor. Another member, Thistle, is mentioned though doesn't actually appear. It's interesting how all the Garden members' names are related to plants somehow. Guess it makes sense for an organization called "Garden" 😅

By the way, in case anyone is wondering, Hemlock is a man. I wasn't sure at first, but he uses the male pronoun "ore" in the Japanese version.

Also undefeated assassin Yor being afraid of bugs but not a ladybug...guess we all have things we're weak to even if it doesn't always match our skills 😂

Good call here from jules about Mitera being the same place where Damian and friends did their treasure hunting in chapter 104. Could Yor's mission somehow lead to more Anya backstory on top of everything else?!

But out of everything that happened in this chapter, Hemlock intrigues me the most - I wonder why he has such a thing against Yor, and why Shopkeeper had to specifically remind him that they're supposed to protect the deer and not harm them. I look forward to learning what his deal is in the coming chapters. Perhaps some backstory about him and Yor in their early days at Garden? And of course, having Yor do a job with a male coworker who seems to be close to her age, even one who doesn't like her, opens up the potential for jealous Loid maybe? Not likely since I doubt Yor or Hemlock would allow themselves to be seen by anyone on their job...but it's nice to dream 😅 Regardless, I haven't been this excited for the next new chapter in a long time! Cruise Arc 2025, let's go!!!