#maybe i will check her other work out <3< /div>
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Benee AMA x
#I don't really know her outside of afterthought but i love her on that song and she sounds sweet#maybe i will check her other work out <3#joji#afterthought#nectar#benee#reddit#george kusunoki miller#joji miller
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the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now
#latimers parents not mine!!!! i am NOT moving back to florida LOL#really hope that the changes will be good for my mental health. this apartment is toxic to us#ive been on the verge of meltdowns Kind Of A Lot lately. imnot doing great#extremely dependent on substances. just to reach a baseline level of functioning. but even that isnt working as much anymore#the only things i do on my phone or tablet these days is like. 2 mobile games. and skirting past my dms to check latimers blog#its too overwhelming to even open discord these days yknow. everything on earth is too much for me right meow#i havent been drawing i havent been social online OR irl i havent been cooking or creating#i havent been keeping up with personal hygiene like at all im particularly ashamed about that one#i've been really bad about doing my T the past few months which is a HUGE shame because im SO fucking hyped to be on it#theres just. too many obstacles in getting it done half the time. and the other half of the time i just forget#anyway. anyway.#our lease ends in july so between now and then we're just gonna try our best to tolerate our living situation enough to get by#there's a light at the end of the tunnel. and its called 'i only have to be in charge of like 2 rooms at most. and not a household!'#we're gonna try to slowly comb through all our things between now and then so the process of moving wont suck as bad#cuz listen. its pretty fucking bad right now#maybe not for other people. but it is for me. and its okay to let myself come to terms with that#im just. so relieved. still very stressed! but theres at least light at the end of the tunnel and its only like 2 months away#ill be able to draw guilt-free again. ill be able to just EXIST guilt-free#i dont think ive felt guilt-free for just existing the way i do since like. turning 20#i know my mom wouldve loved if i stayed home forever. and im sad i cant be there for her#but ever since i had a fight with my dad at 15 or 16 it just really felt like he didnt want me there more and more#maybe as the youngest he was resenting that i was preventing him from becoming an empty nester or something. i dont know#because all the other kids had been moved out and on their own at least once but i had never left home before#i dont know if he'd be heartbroken or not to hear that i feeling like he was resenting me. but thats the energy i was picking up for years#i dunno. i dont know#anyway. back to housing. for now im going to try to relax and store energy for the moving process#the huge pile of things by the kitchen? i dont have to worry about that becoming permanent because we're leaving in 2 months#the general discord of the state of our possessions? we have to go through everything to pack it all anyway. we can move in RIGHT this time#when we moved in here we didnt have a car or license so we were dependent on latimers 3-hr-drive-away parents to help us move#just /across town/. and we had a whole month between leases! but it still had to be done in a weekend
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HEADCANON TIME I think Marshmallow and Apple end up missing out on a lot of cuddling time while the mansion is being rebuilt. My thought-process here is that I think Marsh wouldn't rlly be one for extensive PDA, and literally EVERYONE is here helping rebuild so she's bit more self-conscious and withdrawn than usual. And then once they're done building, everyone is still living in the mansion for some time while they work on the Hotel, so Marsh has to wait even LONGER becuz now even tho she technically has her privacy back with having her own room again, she still has to spend most of her time looking after her home and taking care of her guests, laying out and enforcing certain rules, breaking up fights, etc etc etc so her alone time with Apple gets interrupted a lot. And then once everyone leaves, she and Apple have to make up for the months of lost time and they were already a little codependent (imo) so they start to spend a lot of time with each other, like holding hands or Marsh sitting on Apple's lap, or with their arms around each other.
For a while during the building process and all the contestants living in the mansion together, Marsh is super stressed out and everyone just thinks it's nerves but rlly she just needs her emotional support girlfriend 😔 sad!
#marshple#maybe bow possesses marsh more often so she can have 'cuddling time' but without the noticable pda part#though bow is busy too teaching knife the ins and outs of being a ghost now so idk#they havent rlly been split up so much after they moved in together so theres a weord discomfort For Sure#they all miss each other but they havent gone anywhere theyre just all so busy#and marsh keeps ignoring her feelings becuz she just has other things to deal with and apple and bow are both too busy to talk#and then all her problems keep stacking becuz even once the house is finished she still has to worry abt her guests and shes still distant#and apple and bow miss her but their attempts to make her feel better keep falling flat for one reason or another#eventually i think bow and oj work something out actually where they take over caring for the house so marsh can catch a break#oj is used to managing the hotel and keeping the cast in check and the mansion is bows turf so she can take charge esp when marshs happiness#is on the line#marsh spends her break kissing her girlfriends yayyy epic win forever <3#anyway. UHH
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on today's episode of 'acaica's background thoughts for the dess raises kris au': okay but lets be serious do dess and chara actually stay together in the end--
#drkau#chatter#i debate over this point SO OFTEN LOL#they are BACKGROUND characters. like medium at best.#dess (or asriel or both you can argue any way) is the catalyst for everything but at the end of the day this is a kids story#and noelle IS still going to be the main character#but. man. does desschara work it out#their dynamic will be by far one of the hardest ones to write it think#it is very messy and very complicated and neither of them make great choices#and ive been writing a test piece of them for a WHILE#which. was good to get a decent nail of their characters as they stand in this au#but introduced SO MUCH MORE MESS. bc chara is aroace and 100% has some trauma and fucked-up feelings around sex#but xe DOES have sex with dess. and its like. does xe fully consent to it? yes!#does dess check in to be sure hey you're down bc she knows chara is ace while she isnt? also yes!!!#by the books they do everything right its just. chara is very very very good at rationalizing things.#and xe is. not actually as okay with this as xe is trying to be. and in fact this is very unhealthy for xir#(and then theres this whole OTHER layer of dark worlds and prophecies and everything that leads to frisk being born)#and its like. man. Man. this is so much to juggle#just everything between desschara is jngdfg they are trying their bests but it really is not going that well#bc they meet at like. 19-20 i think and chara's had nobody at all and sorta keeps chasing being someone's most important person#and dess has never had someone who has understood her on a level like chara#who really truly gets what shes about as a person and how she operates in the world#and its just a perfect storm really. and they both have kids and dess did technically kidnap hers just a little bit#and she never tells that to chara. and she tries but she cannot stay in place with xir#and chara couldnt hate her bc. again. has never experienced unconditional love#or love at all really </3 so instead of ever having hard conversations xe will brush it all under the rug#and sorta just enable dess's worse impulses. even sometimes at the expense of their literal children#ITS MESSY YALL. AND LIKE.#at the end of the day we'll see lol maybe they work it out maybe they dont. i have no idea. ive gotta write the thing#and if dr chapters 3&4 come out that could complicate things even FURTHER--
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#personal#honestly what is the goddamn point of endos and endo appointments#every 3 months i ruin my mental and physical health just to prove that my sugar numbers are still wildly unpredictable and uncontrollable#and every 3 months her answer is just 'well you should try taking more insulin and eating less food :)'#in YOUR OWN WORDS i am taking ridiculous amounts of insulin every day and it doesn't work#and if i eat any fewer calories per day I WILL LITERALLY STARVE#(which i know bc that's how i lost 110 pounds and that's why she already had to restrict the dose of my ozempic-like medication)#(and let's not forget that 'losing weight will fix everything' ALSO used to be an answer until i lost that much and it. did. nothing.)#(the one exception is the one time she hit me with 'well maybe you have a tumor.' which i do not. but finding that out was a whole disaster#god i need it to be friday so i can get this appointment over with and once again forget that checking my blood sugar is a thing#idk how this helps other diabetics it just stresses me tf out and makes everything worse
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practical writing advice
part 2
avoid writing in bed if you can. writing in bed is the mind-killer. writing in bed is the little death that brings obliteration. you may think "but i can write AND be cozy" you will get sleepy so fast. 98% of the time when i try to get a nighttime writing session done in bed i go to sleep. maybe 70% of the time if it's an afternoon writing session. also it fucking kills your wrists.
STRETCH before writing. stretch as many parts of your body as possible ESPECIALLY YOUR WRISTS! i have chronic tendonitis in both of my arms from not doing this and it is manageable but it is Not Fun!
plug your phone in on the other side of the room. better yet, plug it in and leave it in another room. better yet, power it off and leave it in another room. "i'll just check one quick thing" do not underestimate the power of the doomscroll.
do a warmup. look up writing prompts (i like one-word prompts or prompts that focus on a general theme as it's easier to integrate into my writing style), set a timer for fifteen minutes, or ten, or five, and go ham. make it shitty or incomprehensible, as long as you make it. create a dump document for all your warmups. i currently have two novels in the works that started as one of these fifteen minute little warmups.
pick your background noise ahead of time if you use it, and look for something long. i listen to 3-hour-long silent hill ambient mixes on youtube dot com.
take breaks. around every 45 minutes, as i'm noticing myself begin to lose focus, i get up, grab a drink, get my blood flowing, and give myself some space to breathe.
sometimes i sit down to write and i think "every atom in my body is averse to doing this right now. i would rather dance barefoot on a bed of nails than open my laptop and start typing." and you know what i do? i go do something else instead. don't force it! it will become a chore.
that being said! write as often as possible. try to write every day. try to write at the same time. don't beat yourself up if you can’t, BUT the more often you write, the more often you'll want to write.
if you're stuck on a scene or a page or a chapter, go back to the last place where you felt like you knew what you were doing and start writing from there. keep a copy of your other writing in case you want to reuse it or refer back!
i don't know if this is something that will be helpful for other people but i start mentally preparing myself for my writing session a few hours ahead of time. i will say to myself, "today, at this time, i'm gonna sit down and write that scene where mina walks out on her book club, and it's going to be awesome and i'm looking forward to it." then, by the time i actually begin, i basically have the whole thing written out in my head and can just put it down to paper. it's a good way to at least kickstart the session !
ok thanks bye
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SNOW ON THE GLASS ♡
pairing: dilf!leon kennedy x fem!reader x milf!ada wong
summary: you love your job as the kennedys nanny. it's fairly easy and pays great. plus you may have a tiny crush on your bosses. but as it turns out, they may reciprocate that feeling more than you know.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mild dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, intoxication/intox kink, breeding kink, praise kink, age gap (late 30s, early 20s)
a/n: birthday gift for my wonderful bestie @explorevenus!! i love you so so much <3 also also also, imagine them both at their re6 ages, i just couldn't find any pics of re6 ada i liked sue me 😔
Little white flakes of snow landed one after another on the clear pane of glass in front of your face. You chewed your bottom lip while watching the flurries compile on the window, and in-turn, your car parked in the driveway.
Behind you, a pair of sharp heels clacked against the tile floor as the owner of said driveway returned to the room. Ada stepped through the archway and down the half-step to approach you by the front door. Laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, she smiled when you turned to look at her.
“Here’s your check, sweetheart,” she said, bringing a small rectangular paper to brush against your fingertips.
“Thank you,” you replied as you took it from her. Your eyes immediately made their way back to the storm outside that grew worse by the second.
She followed your gaze, her palm staying in place on your shoulder. Unlike you, Ada’s face remained composed. She wasn’t worried in the slightest. She’d known this storm was coming. It was an integral part of her plan for tonight.
But despite her internal calmness, she furrowed her dark brows and injected some worry into her tone.
“It’s getting bad out there. That snow is just piling up,” she proclaimed, “There’s no way you should be driving in weather like that.”
Reluctantly, you nodded. Your thoughts had been reaching the same conclusion. You were just hesitant to voice them because after a long day of work, you yearned for the comfort of your apartment. It was finally the weekend, and your plush bed and soft sheets called to you. You’d been dreaming of the quiet between those walls all day. The privacy to do whatever you wanted that you didn’t have when you were here for most hours of the week.
Make no mistake, you loved your job as the Kennedys full-time nanny, but regardless of your enjoyment, it was still work that required a lot of attention and labor. Their daughter was the sweetest child you’d ever met; however, carting her to and from dance class and kindergarten along with making her food, playing with her, and putting her down for naps piled up on you.
“Maybe if I leave now, I can make it…” you thought aloud.
“Oh please. Honey, you live across town. You’d have to take the highway, and people drive crazy as is. I should know, my husband is one of them,” she joked.
Your brows raised at the mention of Leon. You hadn’t even thought about how your other employer would get home tonight. You looked over your shoulder at her again. “Do you think he’ll be ok? It’s coming down really hard out there,” you said.
“Oh he’ll be fine,” she waved off, “His friend is giving him a ride home tonight. I’m sure they’ll make it in one piece.”
Releasing a small breath of relief, you nodded again.
“It’s really no problem if you stay,” she continued, “We have the guest room all set up. It has a bathroom attached, so you’d have total privacy. And I wouldn’t make you watch Christina or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh no,” you reassured, “It’s not that, don’t worry. I just don’t want to be a burden on you and Mr. Kennedy.”
“You’re never a burden on us. With all you do for Christina, you’re practically part of the family. I wouldn’t want you driving off and getting into an accident just because you didn’t want to impose. I’m sure you know that we have more than enough space in this house,” she said and ran her hand over your bicep down to your wrist. Her manicured nails scraped over your skin, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
You felt a simmer of heat in your chest upon hearing those kind words coming from her painted lips. That combined with the teasing touch had your heart pumping a little faster in your chest. It was something you rarely thought about, but maybe, just maybe, a tiny part of why you enjoyed this job so much was because both of your employers looked like reoccuring stars in people’s wet dreams all over the world.
“Thank you. I would really appreciate it,” you answered, your prior trepidation dissolving under the heat of her gaze. You slid your check into your purse and then placed the bag back down on the end table by the door.
She smirked, though she tried to make it appear as an earnest smile. Of course, Ada sensed the little crush you had on her and her husband. It wasn’t hard to tell given the way you preened in the face of the slightest of compliments or gave them the look a puppy would give its owner whenever they praised you for your hard work.
“Great,” she said, “Come with me. I’ll put on some dinner. We’ll get you fed and then I’ll show you to your room and be out of your hair for the night.”
Her slender fingers clasped around your hand, guiding you back through that archway and towards the kitchen. The two of you passed by a few family portraits and expensive paintings before reaching your destination - the luxurious kitchen that probably held a value higher than all the money you’d made in your life.
You could fit about six of your kitchens in this one. That would be another nice thing about staying here for the night, getting to use the high end items they had stocked rather than the odds and ends you owned.
She led you across the gray marble floors over to the spacious island, all but sitting you down on one of the stools.
“You just relax for a few minutes, and I’ll work on the food,” she said.
You took your seat, not willing to protest her hospitality further. Your eyes scanned around the kitchen you’d become so familiar with over the last year. She walked into the pantry for a couple seconds, returning with a box and some small containers before setting them on the counter.
“You like pasta?” she asked.
“Who doesn’t?” you responded.
She let out a small laugh at that. “No wonder Leon likes you so much. A girl after his own heart.”
Your heart fluttered at the idea that Mr. Kennedy liked you. Before hearing that, you didn’t suspect he had any problems with you. In fact, he let you know all the time that he was pleased with your performance and couldn’t ask for anyone better to take care of Christina. But appreciating you and liking you were two separate things, the latter of which gave you that warm feeling in your stomach.
In the corner of the counters, Ada bent down to grab a pot. Your eyes went with her, dragging along her figure to where her form-fitting black slacks covered the swell of her ass. As soon as you realized you were staring, you averted your gaze. You pushed out any further thoughts about how her red blouse was probably unbuttoned at the top, allowing a clear view of her breasts down the front of the shirt.
She stood back up with the pot in hand and filled it with some water. Tapping the electric stove to life, she put it on to boil. You watched as she poured some oil in the water and then grabbed a pan to put on for what you assumed would be the sauce.
With both pieces heating up, she moved to the cabinets up above. She reached for the one next to the section that held all of Christina’s dishes, her sippy cups and princess plates. The cupboard you took from most of the time you were here.
Instead of grabbing a Little Mermaid themed piece of tupperware, her hand retrieved two wine glasses. She spun around to face you and brought the fragile items over to the island. After placing them in front of you, she stepped into a nearby alcove, the place you knew they kept all the liquor.
She came back with a nice bottle, something more rich than you’d ever drink on your own. Popping it open, she went to pour, but you interrupted.
“I don’t really need any,” you said with a timid smile.
While you weren’t a prude about drinking under other circumstances, Ada was still your boss. Being under any kind of influence around her held a risk you didn’t find worth taking.
She just smirked at you though, not making any effort to conceal it this time.
“C’mon, loosen up a bit,” she coaxed, “You’re not on the clock. You’ve been working all week, even later today since I was late. Take it as my apology.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You paid me for the overtime,” you replied.
“Still. Keeping you longer than expected on short notice is inconsiderate,” she said.
She rounded the counter with the bottle and your glass in hand. Upon reaching you, she set the glass down directly in front of you with the bottle beside it. The proximity left no room for hesitation. One of her hands came up, brushing across the back of your neck to rest on your shoulder like it had earlier.
“You’re not saying no because you think this is some sort of test, do you? Because I wouldn’t bother with something like that, sweetheart. I was young once too,” she told you. You swore she was leaning in closer as her voice became more of a purr next to your ear, but you didn’t dare look. “I know how good a drink can feel after a long week. You’re human. My husband and I don’t expect you to be a child-friendly saint even when you’re not working,” she continued.
Her fingers rubbed miniscule circles on the cloth of your top. You still didn’t think it was the best idea to drink around your boss, but Ada had never given you a reason not to trust her. It was quite the opposite. Most days, the Kennedys seemed too good to be true.
You knew they were human. Occasionally while speaking to you, they’d slip in a jab about the other or allude to some sort of marital problem that sprouted up after years of being together. They’d make mistakes like coming home late or forgetting to tell you that Christina’s dance lesson had been canceled until you were already on the way there.
But when it came to their relationships with you, they were absolute dreams. They gave you expensive gifts for your birthday and Christmas. Paid you above what was the standard for nannies in this area. Talked to you like someone they were interested in rather than a person they were forced to interact with. And hell, now they were offering up their home to you when you needed it.
“Alright. If it’s ok with you,” you agreed.
“That’s what I like to hear,” she said and tilted the bottle towards your glass.
Deep red liquid spilled into the curved dish. She wasn’t shy with how much she gave you, that was for sure. You could already smell that heady aroma swirling around the air.
“You can have as much as you’d like. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, we want you to feel at home here with us,” she said.
Before she walked away, her hand swept down your back, stroking it with a domineering, almost maternal sort of affection. It sent another round of chills through your body. You reached for the wine glass and gripped the stem hard. It was probably for the best that she and her husband weren’t actually around for most of your work here if this was how you reacted to a simple touch.
You brought the glass to your lips and sipped some of the liquid as she poured her own. After taking down some of the drink to numb your responsive nerves, you set it down again. You didn’t want to over-indulge.
“I really do feel at home here. I wasn’t saying no because I’m not comfortable with you. I just really care about what you and Mr. Kennedy think of me. I wouldn’t want you thinking you hired someone irresponsible to watch over your daughter,” you explained. What was left unspoken was that you didn’t want either of them thinking you were trashy in your own right either.
She nodded and stirred the bubbling sauce on the stove. She had to stop herself from saying I know. “That’s good. But you don’t need to worry so much. Both me and my husband think very highly of you,” she said instead.
A rush coursed through you upon hearing that. You smiled and raised your glass again, ingesting some more of the intoxicating liquid.
She watched out of the corner of her eye. It was a struggle to keep quiet and not fawn over how adorable you looked when you got all giddy. She kept her attention on dinner though, adding the noodles when the water reached a boil and spicing the sauce.
There was nothing she needed to say right now. She’d just be quiet and let you nurse that drink. It wasn’t that she needed the alcohol for what she wanted to do tonight. She could probably seduce you right now without much effort if she so desired. But tonight had been well-planned out, and for all the effort she put into it, she was gonna get everything she wanted out of it.
Ada had wanted you since the day they hired you. She could still remember the cute little outfit you wore on that Sunday you showed up for your interview. A nice plaid skirt with a dark sweater up top. Objectively modest but still attractive enough to garner attention. You’d been so polite, sitting with your ankles crossed and perfect posture. She could tell you were fighting off nerves with each answer you gave her and Leon. You were only the second candidate they’d met with, but Ada dismissed any other option before you’d even said your goodbyes.
That craving for you only became more intense over the last month or so. She’d had enough of coming home to you passed out on the couch, all sprawled out and vulnerable but not being able to take advantage. She was sick of only feeling grazes of the silken nature of your skin as she caught you before and after your shift.
That was why she calculated everything for tonight down to the minute. It would go off without a hitch. This wasn’t one of Leon’s missions that stumbled along and almost collapsed at multiple points before barely reaching the correct target. No, she’d thought this through.
By the end of the night, she would have you in the palms of her and Leon’s hands. She’d known this snow storm was coming, and she’d intentionally stayed a little later at work so that she’d be home by the time it was already raging outside and you’d put Christina to bed. She’d have the guest room for you, but you wouldn’t have any of your own belongings, which meant she’d have chances to lure you into her territory. She’d get you all peaceful and pliant by giving you a nice dinner and a fair amount of drinks. Everything would play out just like she intended it to.
She longed to see you at a baser state without any of your usual modesty impeding on your desires. She wanted you all giggling and cute, falling into her arms and spreading your legs without even being asked. You would love it. She just had to show you that.
She hummed to herself at a low volume while finishing up the food. Combining the curled pasta with the creamy sauce, she scooped two helpings onto each plate and made her way over to you with the dishes.
The two of you sat at the island, eating and drinking and talking. The conversation started on Christina but moved around to your personal life and her job among other subjects. She made sure to top off your wine whenever it got close to being empty.
“I know this job must keep you pretty busy, but do you do anything outside of it?” she eventually asked, “Maybe school or some other interests taking up your time?”
“Um… well,” you answered, “I tried out school for a while, and it wasn’t really the best fit for me… I messed around with some other things, and you know how that goes.”
A little laugh slipped from your lips. Your words were definitely more free-flowing than usual.
“Well there’s nothing wrong with taking things day by day,” she replied with a warm smile. She took a sip of her own drink before continuing her point. “You’re still young. You could stumble on something you don’t even know about right now.”
“Exactly!” you responded, all too excited to have someone agree with you, “That’s exactly how I feel. Like you know, this job. I feel like I won the lottery with you guys most days I’m here.”
“That makes me so happy to hear,” she said.
“It’s the truth. Ugh, the kids I babysat in high school were nightmares. And their parents barely paid me anything. I wasn’t even allowed to eat the food at the house. It was horrible. But you guys, you’re perfect I swear. Christina is so sweet and funny and smart. And this house is great. And you and Mr. Kennedy, you two… you’re like dreams,” you rambled.
“Really?” she asked with mild amusement. She set her drink down and leaned forward on her forearms.
The way your eyes widened and your lips parted, you looked like a little fish upon realizing how your last statement sounded. “I just mean you guys are like so great to work for. My favorite job I’ve ever had for sure,” you added.
She reached out, laying her smooth hand on your wrist. “That’s so sweet of you, honey. You’re great to have around too. Much better than our last nanny,” she said, “She always had some complaint about something, and her hours never ended up being consistent. Plus, she wasn’t as cute as you.”
The statement struck you like a bolt of lightning. You were sure your eyes widened to the size of gold medals. Heat oozed up from your chest into your face. This honestly felt like a dream. In reality, you were supposed to think your boss was hot. You were supposed to thirst after them, pine for moments of reciprocation that would never actually happen. But one just did.
“Oh, thank you,” you shrugged, an involuntary smile pulling at your mouth.
A low, knowing laugh echoed from her without her lips ever breaking that calculated smile. Ada’s rich eyes stayed on yours, not letting you get a reprieve from eye contact that lasted longer than a handful of seconds. Her fingertips massaged little circles onto your wrist as you spoke. The light touches felt like the tips of sparklers against your skin. Each one sent tingling warmth up your arm down to your belly.
“Oh come on, don’t look so nervous,” she said, “You must get compliments like that all the time. You’re a very pretty girl.”
Again, you shrugged. “I guess,” you answered. The weight of her attention pressed on you, causing your gaze to lower to your lap.
She didn’t let you get away though. One of her hands ventured up to cup your jaw and pull your face upright. Her fingers lingered there as she stared at you. The curled, the flat backs of her knuckles smoothing across your cheek.
“Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” she asked.
Your pulse thundered in your ears. You shook your head no.
She hummed in response. Her fingers continued exploring the expanse of your cheek before dropping to lie on your shoulder.
“That’s good. No need to tie yourself to one person at your age. Though you do deserve someone to take care of you,” she said.
That dull heat in your stomach had long outgrown something so mild. It festered into full arousal by this point, a need hot and pulsating between your thighs. You bit your lip. It was all you could do to keep yourself from squirming in an attempt to grind on the stool.
“I can take care of myself,” you said, though the tone of your voice alone called the truth of that claim into question.
She laughed softly, the sound light and condescending. Her hand glided back and forth along your shoulder in short strokes.
“I’m sure you can, sweet girl. But you shouldn’t have to. You spend all week caring for someone else. You deserve to relax in your free time and have someone take over,” she said.
A visible shiver ran through you. Your teeth dug into the inside of your lip harder as you looked at her now.
“That does sound kind of nice,” you agreed.
She nodded along and brought her hand back to your face. One set of her nails lightly scraped along the frame of it, trailing down after to stroke your jaw. The sensation was enough to make your eyes flutter and send another small burst of desire through you.
“Of course it does,” she said, “You work so hard. You shouldn’t have to go home and cook or do dishes or laundry. You’re probably so tired by the time you get there.”
A hazy sigh puffed out from your mouth. “Yeah sometimes,” you confirmed.
“Mhm. Poor baby,” she cooed, “Someone should be there, letting you rest, doting on you like the precious thing you are.”
Now you felt as though you were glowing. Your breaths came in deep, lifting your chest up and down with each breath. A lazy, blissful smile sat on your features as your dreamy gaze fixated on her. Everything really was starting to feel like a dream. If you weren’t so captivated, you might have tried pinching yourself.
She chuckled at the expression before standing up. Her palms swept down to your shoulders again.
“You look tired, honey. We should probably get you some clothes to sleep in and then send you off to bed,” she said.
“Sounds good to me,” you said and started to rise from the stool yourself.
“Perfect. Just finish this off for me, sweetheart,” she said and lifted your glass to your hand again. It was nearly empty, but it couldn’t hurt having you drink a few drops more.
Denying her didn’t even occur to you in this condition. You brought the drink to your lips and swallowed the remainder while she cleared the counter of other dishes.
In the blink of an eye, she was back at your side. One of her arms slipped around your waist while the other held your shoulder.
“Good girl,” she praised, “Come with me.”
Again, you followed the order without a trace of resistance. You walked alongside her down the path you had come. This time around you leaned into her for support. Your head felt cloudy. A sense of dizziness pervaded every movement you made. She watched with pure satisfaction as she led you to the hall.
“There you go. We’re almost there,” she cooed as if you didn’t know the layout of the house.
You passed the front door and turned into the area that held the doors to one of the bathrooms and the office space. At the end of the small corridor, she opened up the double doors that led into her and Leon’s room. Despite being here five days a week, you rarely ever went in here. You could use one hand to count the number of occasions in which you ever needed to cross this threshold.
The decor was much darker than the rest of the house. Shades of gray morphed into dark black in here. Obsidian drapes framed the window, separated at the moment to let the moon shine through. All the furniture was crafted in deep tones of wood. The rug sprawled across the floor was nearly pitch black, spare the thin red designs sewn throughout.
You took it all in as if it was brand new to you. She paid your curiosity no mind and sat you down on the edge of her bed.
“Stay here for me. I’ll go find you something that fits you,” she said, running her hand over your head as if you were a prized pet.
You obeyed like one, not moving as she stepped away and into the walk in closet in the corner of the room. Your palms spread out on the bedding. The plush comforter tickled your fingers. It had to be one of the softest things you’d ever felt. Much different than the ratty old throw blankets you had on your bed back home.
A sigh seeped from your lips, and you found yourself laying back against the luxurious surface. You spread your arms out as though you were making angel wings in the snow outside. What would it be like to come home to this every night? To work hard all day and then be able to really relax in a place like this? To unwind with each one of your bosses at your side tending to you?
As these thoughts danced through your mind, you felt a hand grasp your thigh. You popped your head up to find Ada before you again, a couple pieces of clothing draped over her arm.
“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” she teased.
“I wasn’t. Sorry. Your bed is just like really comfy,” you said with a small giggle as you sat up.
“Isn’t it? We just got this one last year. Leon loved our old one, but I just find this one so much easier to sink into,” she agreed.
“Mhm. For sure,” you said, nodding your head up and down with too much enthusiasm for the subject.
That didn’t matter though. Ada didn’t think she could find one thing wrong with you right now if she tried. Beside you, she laid out the few things she’d taken from the closet.
“I wasn’t really sure what type of clothes you liked to sleep in or what you would fit so I brought a few for you to choose from,” she said.
With a gentle hand, she directed your attention to the outfits on the mattress. There were two, and they looked like night and day. Two opposites with no neutral middle.
The one on the left consisted of a small black camisole, one that had to belong to Ada. A pair of silky, navy blue shorts sat with them, another find from her side of the wardrobe. Next to those two was a large gray sweatshirt and some flannel pajama pants, probably her husband’s if you had to guess.
Your eyes lingered on each. It appeared as though you were taking your time to decide, but really you just couldn’t stop trying to picture the clothing on their owners’ bodies. You imagined Ada’s soft curves covered by the thin cloth, her smooth thighs emerging from the shiny fabric of the shorts. Images of Leon flickered in your head too, the sleeves of that shirt rolled up to his elbows and leaving his forearms exposed. The plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips and giving you a nice view of his v-line.
While you stared at your options, she angled herself behind you, lifting one knee onto the bed. Her hands landed upon your shoulders to gently massage.
“Pick whatever you want. It’s totally up to you. You can take one or the other or combine the two. Maybe layer a bit since it’s so cold,” she whispered. She had leaned in right next to your ear. Her lips brushed your skin with every word.
It took everything you had not to whimper for more from her. Under normal circumstances, you would be squirming out of your skin, stuttering and awkwardly trying to justify her affection for you. But right now, you leaned back into it, letting the warmth flow through you.
She smiled and snaked her arms around your body, holding you tight against her. “I’ll have to buy you some clothes to keep here in case this ever happens again. We’ll keep a cute little wardrobe for you in the guest room, so you can stay whenever you like,” she added.
That pulled another giggle out of you along with growing the lazy smile on your face. “I’ll take both of these,” you finally decided and pulled the two tops toward yourself. You messily bundled both pieces into your lap.
“Great. But you still need some pants, sweetheart,” she teased.
“But I don’t like sleeping in pants,” you said and looked up at her with earnest eyes.
She reveled in your thoughtless confession but played it cool. “Are you sure? The bed upstairs has a lot of blankets and the heat should be on, but I wouldn’t want you getting cold,” she offered.
You shook your head. “I’ll be ok, but thank you,” you answered.
Standing up, you swayed on your feet a little. She rose from the bed herself and moved the rejected pairs of pants to the dresser nearby. When she turned to you and caught the wobbly nature of your stance, she moved in like a viper through tall grass and grabbed you by the elbow.
“Why don’t you just change in here? You know that way if you don’t like anything you won’t have to stumble up and down the stairs. Plus you can just leave your clothes here, and I’ll put them in the wash in the morning,” she said, making the offer as if it was based on a genuine desire to help you.
You blinked at her. “Like… change in here? In the bedroom?” you checked.
She nodded, her fingers gliding up your arm. “Mhm. We’re both girls, honey. No need to be shy. I’ll even turn around if you want me to,” she said in a way that somehow soothed you and set your whole body on fire.
You felt like a fireworks show was going off in your stomach. The adrenaline rushing through your veins made you light-headed, and the wine probably didn’t help. You couldn’t think of a reason to say no.
“Alright,” you agreed with a heavy breath.
“Good girl,” she praised with a squeeze to your shoulder.
You felt your clit throb between your legs. At this point, you knew you’d probably have to rub one out as soon as you reached the privacy of the guest room.
Turning around, you dropped the two shirts back on the bed. Without much hesitation, you started to undress. Your shirt was first to go. You tucked your fingers beneath the hem and peeled it off.
Ada’s gaze focused completely on you as she saw the soft skin of your back completely exposed. This was the most important part of the night. If she messed up here, all of it would have been for nothing. She hadn’t planned out every minute movement she would make, but she could think on her feet. This would work.
She headed over near the closet entrance again but didn’t venture inside. She stood right outside in front of the full length mirror, a seemingly reasonable position where she was sure you’d be able to see her if you turned around.
Bending down, she unbuckled her heels and then kicked them to the side. She undid her slacks next and shimmied them off to pool around her ankles.
You heard the rustling of the fabric and the clicks of unfastening. It didn’t register in your mind what they would be coming from until you glanced over your shoulder and spotted her. Your jaw fell open while your eyes bulged from their sockets. You were pretty sure you stopped breathing in the middle of removing your bra.
She stood there as if nothing about this was odd. Her fingers worked on undoing the buttons on her blouse, parting the two sides and revealing a sliver of her skin. Her legs were already out in the open, all for your eyes to see.
In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she caught your wide-eyed stare. She spun around to face you head on. She unhooked the last button. Her shirt fell open, allowing you to see her flesh from her navel to her collar bone. Underneath the blouse, she still had on a lacy bra and matching panties.
Not missing a beat, she just chuckled and walked closer. “Did you get stuck, honey? Need some help?” she asked.
She approached your frozen form and brought her hands to your shoulders where your bra straps sat. Using her nimble fingers, she guided the thin pieces down your arms. The entire garment fell away and dropped to the floor in front of you.
“There you go. Let mommy help you,” she whispered.
This time you actually couldn’t tell if the words were real or imagined. They’d been so hushed, so faint, but you would swear on anything that you felt them fan over your neck.
She moved to your jeans next, flicking the button open and tugging the zipper loose. The denim crumpled under the force of her hands shoving them down. You stepped out of each pant leg before she kicked them aside along with your bra.
Her hands came to rest on your hips for a moment before gliding up your sides. They smoothed over your curves like streams of warm water. You felt the gentle pressure move from your sides around to your tummy. She was only teasing you right now. Her touches felt good, but they didn’t explore anywhere that would give you true pleasure.
“You have such soft skin,” she cooed.
“Thank you,” you hummed, preening under her touch.
“So tender and pretty. Perfectly smooth,” she whispered.
You were already melting under her hands, but she knew she could go further. She ducked in and kissed your neck. You moaned at the feeling, at her hot mouth latching onto your skin. She laid a few more there after to follow.
“Mmm, so sweet too,” she hummed.
You whimpered and let your head fall back onto her shoulder, leaving more of your neck accessible to her lips. She took advantage. Leaning in, she licked a stripe over your pulse and followed the trail of saliva with a series of kisses. Her teeth scraped across the sensitive flesh.
“A-ada…” you sighed.
“I’m right here, sweet baby,” she purred, “Does that feel good?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered.
“I bet it does. You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Jumping under every touch. I was like that at your age too,” she teased.
Her hands broke the little patterns they’d been tracing into your stomach to float upward. One by one they each landed on your breasts. Her palms cupped the mounds and gave them a gentle squeeze.
“You have such a gorgeous body,” she said as she nuzzled the space behind your ear, “You’re so shy. So precious. Running around my house like a skittish little puppy.”
No words of protest or denial made their way out of you. It felt good to bask in her attention, to know that she saw you as something so delicate.
“I think I’m starting to understand why though,” she teased.
Her fingers went to your pebbled nipples, pulling and tweaking the sensitive nubs. You mewled and squirmed in her grasp.
“Mommy,” you whined, not caring if she had actually been the one to say it first.
“Mhm. Look at you, already calling me mommy. You were thinking about this, weren’t you baby? You’ve been wanting mommy to take care of you?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, not being coy about it.
She grinned against your neck before turning you around. Once you could see her, she displayed a much more seductive expression. “Let mommy take care of you then,” she said.
With caring hands, she guided you onto the bed and laid you against a mountain of the pillows near the headboard. She crawled above you, looking down at you like a panther that had just caught its next meal.
“Let me have a taste of those lips. See if they're as soft as the rest of you,” she murmured before lowering herself.
She connected her mouth to yours. Her lips engulfed your own in a kiss, her tongue teasing you. You reciprocated. Your lips parted as you moaned, granting her access. She didn’t waste any time. Her breaths came out heavier as she focused herself entirely on you.
As her mouth worked on you above, her hands continued roaming your body below. She groped your hips and explored your thighs. You gasped softly at the mix of sensations, rolling your hips up against nothing.
“So impatient, baby,” she breathed as she pulled back, “You act like such a good girl all the time, but I bet that leaves you so desperate, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered.
She nodded and moved down to your neck again. Her mouth trailed over the skin with little pecks and soft sucks. The idea of leaving marks tempted her, but that could come later. She didn’t intend on this being her only time with you.
You felt her kisses migrate across your throat to your collarbone and down to the valley between your breasts. Her tongue played there for a moment, drawing out the moments before she would give you your first real taste of relief.
“Mommy, please,” you tried, eyes fluttering.
“So demanding,” she cooed. She moved her mouth to the right though and wrapped her lips around your nipple.
You arched your back off the bed and breathed out a whiny sigh. The tip of her tongue swirled around the bud. She laved at it, applying the perfect amount of pressure to get you squirming. Her hands massaged your waist in the meantime. She would make sure you felt good all over.
Your legs shifted around at the tingling building between your thighs. You craved some friction so badly, but she was still fixated on your chest. Her mouth released your nipple and planted one more kiss on it before she moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.
It got the same pleasured reaction out of you that only increased when one of her hands came up to toy with the sensitive peak that already experienced her mouth. You mewled without shame, digging her heels into the mattress.
She finally let it go as she had the other one, with a wet pop. Her eyes flitted up to you, taking in your breathless expression. After a couple seconds, she started kissing down your belly. She scooted herself down between your legs.
“You’re so needy,” she cooed, “No one’s taken care of you in so long. It’s left you aching.”
Her fingers ghosted over your thin panties, the ribbed fabric nowhere near as luxurious as hers. You watched her eyes follow her hands. The dark irises locked on your center. Her thumb traced the length of your cunt, grazing over your clit down to your leaking entrance. A nice wet patch began forming on the seat of your panties.
“That’s ok though. No one else could take care of you like mommy can. You’d be wasting your time.”
Your eyelids felt heavy as you watched her tug your panties off, drooping with the weight of your lust. You felt the cool air hit the glistening folds between your legs as soon as your lower half was free of the thin covering.
“So wet for me already,” she said, “That’s my good girl. Always so eager to please.”
She didn’t waste time teasing. Why would she? After months of coveting, she finally had you within her grasp, ready for the taking. She gripped your thighs and dove in, flattening her tongue against your soaked core. With a broad stroke, her tongue dragged over the slick flesh.
You mewled in response. A soft gasp accompanied the sound. She spotted your fingers gripping the bedding. So responsive from the simplest of touches. You were going to be fun.
She attacked your clit next. First, she treated it with little flicks of her tongue. Quick and repetitive, it stroked the tiny bud until you let out a pretty whine. She then latched her lips on, sucking on your pulsing bundle of nerves.
All the thoughts in your head melted away. The only thing you could do at this point was babble out a small collection of words including “mommy” and “please more.”
She got into it. All her focus trained on you. This was what she had been dreaming of for a year after all. Ever since she saw you in that little plaid skirt. She’d have to have you wear it again one of these days so she could eat you out under it.
Your thighs squeezed around her head as she lapped at your entrance. It felt good, a more dull kind of bliss than what she’d brought you before, but still good. She didn’t mind the pressure from your legs. Her nails dug into your tender flesh and kept you right in place to continue on with her task.
You trembled and twitched with the ecstasy coursing through you. Your eyes rolled back, your vision going out for a second. It felt as though your head was engulfed by drowsy clouds straight from the heavens. The few people you had been with before never made you feel like this.
Your head had lolled back for a moment in the throes of carnal pleasure. When your vision started to return, you brought it back up to look at her again. Only she didn’t catch your attention this time.
Instead your pupils landed on the shadowy figure at the double doors you had entered through.
You practically jumped out of your skin before you realized who it was. She felt you startle and briefly looked over her shoulder before returning her attention to your pussy. The person stepped forward, allowing moonlight to cast over their figure and show their face.
Leon.
“It sounds like you broke her already,” he said as he approached the bed. Making his way to your pair, he ended up standing beside you. His eyes scanned over your nude body, drinking in every inch of your figure.
“I told you I’d have her nice and warmed up by the time you came home,” she replied, shooting him a smile from the crux of your thighs.
Their words flew over your head. You couldn’t really hear them with how fast your heart was beating. God, how could you have been so stupid? You totally forgot about Leon until this very moment. Apparently, a few drinks was all it took to let your pussy take control. All you had been thinking about for the last half hour was how badly you wanted Ada, how beautiful she looked laying in front of you, devouring you whole. The fact that she was married with a husband completely slipped your mind.
“Mr. Kennedy, I’m so sorry. I- um- We just-” you stammered, incapable of coming up with any sort of defense for your actions.
But he didn’t look mad. He sat down beside your shoulder, gazing down at you with some sort of affection in his eyes.
“I think I’ve told you before that I prefer when you call me Leon, sweetheart,” he told you, petting your head.
Biting your lip, you leaned into the touch. Your eyes looked so sweet gazing up at him as you did. He felt his blood beginning to flow South in response. His hand continued stroking over your scalp before moving to your shoulder, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingers.
“She’s been such a good girl for mommy,” Ada praised from below before rubbing your clit rapidly with her middle and index finger. The quick motion drew a whiny moan from you, only adding to Leon’s arousal.
His eyes flicked between you and his wife. “You didn’t give her too much to drink, did you?” he asked.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “She only had a few. What do you take me for?”
“Well she looks a little out of it. I just thought I’d check. My mistake,” he said, rubbing your cheek with his thumb absentmindedly.
She laughed softly at that. “You know I’m good with my mouth, darling. I don’t need any help getting her to look like that.”
You whimpered as she reattached her mouth to your cunt. Turning your head, you squished your face against his thigh. Your hips bucked. You could feel your release building up, the urge to let go flourishing inside you. Your noises became more high pitched, more needy. He looked down at you with something resembling curiosity with a trace of adoration.
“That feel good, baby? Not too much for you?” he asked.
“N- no, feels- mmph! Feels good,” you choked out between labored breaths. The hand closer to him flew up to grab at his thigh. Your digits dug into the material of his pants as another whine erupted from you.
He swapped his leg for his hand, letting you squeeze his palm as hard as you wanted.
“That’s it. Good girl. Hold daddy’s hand. I’ve got you,” he hummed.
Ada let her hand take over again and brought her head up to watch the two of you.
“Are you close, honey?” she asked.
“Mhm,” you responded instantly.
“Good. I want you to cum for me, ok? Cum for mommy and daddy. We’re gonna get you all nice and wet before you take daddy’s cock,” she said with the sweetest smile on her face in contrast to her dirty words.
You jolted at the prospect. A sharp breath tore through you right before your orgasm did. Your body shook and convulsed, arching and rolling as if you were possessed. Vaguely, you could hear both of their voices. You couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tones were that of praise.
The world around you faded away as you came on her fingers. Your chest puffed up and down with heavy breaths, and your head went limp against Leon’s leg.
Moments later as you began to come down, you felt him shift your weight onto the pillows. His presence receded and more hushed words filled the room. You heard fabric crinkling and a belt hitting the floor.
The mattress dipped as he climbed back on. Your eyes cracked open in time to see him kneeling between your legs. His hands rested on your bent knees, fingers caressing your skin.
Your eyes swept over one of the bodies you’d been imagining in recent months. You could see the few veins that marked his forearms and biceps. He was still muscular despite getting older, but he had begun to fill out a little with some softer flesh. Brown hair dusted the skin from his navel down to a thicker patch of it at the base of his cock.
Meanwhile, Ada landed by your side. You took a breath, and her scent overwhelmed you in place of Leon’s. Her curves pressed up against you. Your head rested against the cushion of her breasts while you could feel the smoothness of her belly against your arm.
She kissed the crown of your head, nestling her nose against your hair. “You ready for daddy, baby? I know he’s ready for you,” she whispered.
You nodded, watching Leon as he gave his cock a few tugs. His eyes remained soft even in the midst of his desire.
While Leon wasn’t the one who’d hatched this plan to get you here, that didn’t mean he was oblivious to your beauty. There was a reason he’d agreed to this in the first place. He’d become just as enamored with you in the same time his wife did. He couldn’t help it. Even though he knew it was such a cliche at his age, he couldn’t stop himself from lusting after the babysitter.
He was only human. It was only natural for his eyes to linger on your waist when you squatted down to say goodbye to his daughter. The flutter in his stomach when you hugged him from the side a few times was just a matter of instinct. It wasn’t his fault the sound of your laughter nearly had him drooling or that the sight of you carrying his child to the car made him weak in the knees.
At least that’s what he told himself. That it was just a harmless crush. Something he’d never act on or get to experience anywhere other than the little scenarios that played in his head while he jerked off in the shower.
But then he found out his wife had an interest in you too. Your name came up during an intimate moment of their own. Between kisses, Ada asked him what he thought of you. He had pulled back, confused by the sudden question (and slightly nervous that he’d have to discuss you while already half-hard).
“Uh… she’s good. Christina likes her. She’s sweet, responsible, hardworking. Little shy, but I’m sure that’s just when we’re around,” he’d shrugged.
“Not like that,” she’d rolled her eyes and leaned back in to kiss his neck, “What do you think of her? She’s young, pretty, looks at you like you hung the stars. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little babysitter fantasy before, darling.”
At first he’d thought it was a test. He denied it, proclaiming that was wrong. He only had interest in his wife, and you were just trying to do your job. The fact that you were easy on the eyes meant nothing to him. He didn’t care about your sparkling eyes or soft lips or nice curves. He didn’t notice the sweet sound of your voice or any of your cute little mannerisms. Pffft. No way.
“That’s a shame. Because I think she’s beautiful. She’s just so sweet and cute, and she doesn’t even know. The only place she could look any better is lying between us. And you know she’d be so sensitive to every little touch. She’d whimper like a little puppy,” she whispered against his skin.
In that moment, all his guilt had zapped away. He groaned at her words, accepting them without hesitation. There was no jealousy on his end, absolutely no discomfort at the idea of his wife lusting for someone else. Not when that someone else was you.
Because it meant that he got to have you like he did right now, spread out before him all blissed out and pretty. He guided his length to your entrance and dragged the tip over your folds. It glided through your wetness, nudging your clit before falling back down.
“You sure you’re ready, princess?” he asked.
“Mhm. Pretty please,” you affirmed, natural puppy dog eyes on display.
“Look at you. So polite,” he mumbled.
He prodded the head at your entrance, popping it inside. For a few moments, that was all that entered you. He let you adjust to the intrusion and let himself get used to the vise-like clamp of your velvety walls. The few seconds were necessary if he didn’t want to humiliate himself by blowing his load in less than a minute.
After that time though, he began easing it inside of you inch by inch. You whined at the light stretch. Ada stroked your arm with one hand and caressed the swell of your breasts with the other.
“That’s right, honey. You’re taking him so well,” she crooned.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” Leon grunted.
Ada grinned at that before looking at you again. “Are you squeezing daddy nice and tight? Showing him where to go?” she teased.
You moaned and nodded while Leon groaned and shut his eyes. Ada kissed your cheek as her husband bottomed out. Her hand fell to your stomach, rubbing over it. He leaned forward. His palm pressed down next to you on the mattress to keep his balance. He hovered above you, blue eyes looking down with lidded awe.
Pulling his hips back, he rocked them forward again right after. He dragged his pelvis away and then brought it right back, flush against your core. You whimpered with each movement. The satisfying slide sent warmth through you each time.
“Atta girl. Taking it so well, just like mommy said,” he mumbled.
Now he pumped his hips with more dedication. He increased his speed. Exploratory moves became deliberate strokes. Leon settled into a rhythm. He swiveled his hips and angled the way he pistoned them based on the little noises you’d make and the expressions that took over your face. He paid close attention to it all, wanting to learn what you liked, what made you feel good.
Ada continued moving her hands along your form. One moment she played with your nipples, the next she held your hips, after that she pulled your knees up further. It was dizzying trying to keep up.
“Our sweet girl,” she cooed in your ear, “Precious baby. Maybe this should be your new job. You’re good at your other one, but I think we’d like having you all to ourselves.”
Leon groaned again, his head hanging forward. Although the words had been directed at you, they had just as much of an effect on him.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” he asked, “Sitting around and looking pretty. Letting us spoil you like you deserve”
“You know she would. Do you even have to ask?” Ada said, “She’d love it. Spending the day kneeling between your legs while you work, using that mouth of hers whenever you want.”
“She could spend some with you too. Sit on your lap and let you play with her with one hand while typing with the other,” he offered in return.
“And then one day, if she’s really good, maybe daddy will breed that cute little pussy and fuck a baby into her,” she whispered.
Leon’s hips snapped against you hard as you turned to eye her. The words broke you out of the spell his cock had you under before.
“What?” you asked.
She chuckled and cupped your jaw, giving you a patronizing kiss.
“What, sweetheart? You’d like that wouldn’t you? It’d make mommy and daddy so happy, you giving us another baby,” she said.
Your head spun at the idea. You blinked and sputtered. In your right, rational mind, you’d put a pause to this. But with a few drinks in you and one orgasm already under your belt, the idea didn’t sound all too bad. It’s not like you were gonna sign a contract or something. They weren’t even asking you to agree to anything right now. But just imagining it…
“You’d look so pretty, babydoll. Your hips all rounded out, all those curves nice and full, that cute stomach swollen with our baby,” Leon sighed.
Imagining it was in fact fun you decided. Your pussy clenched around him again before relaxing. You heard Ada moan softly beside you. Glancing over, you could see her fingers moving beneath her panties, working herself to the edge alongside you.
“You’d love it, honey. You’re made for it. And we’d take such good care of you, make sure you had everything you could want,” he added.
“Mmmm… daddy,” you babbled, unable to voice the full extent of your enthusiasm.
“Uh huh. Daddy’s right here. I’m gonna fill you up. You’re first little taste, yeah? I’ll get you nice and full so you know how it feels,” he moaned.
His bicep flexed as he continued to pound into you. Over and over, he slammed into your cunt. Ada continued moaning beside your ear. Her own noises were growing more desperate. You could feel her hips rocking up to meet her own touch.
“Daddy gonna- gonna- ah- gonna cum,” you whimpered.
“Go ahead, pumpkin,” he grunted, “Cum for daddy. Let me see my pretty girl let go.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
You let release wash over you in a smooth wave. Your body writhed and twitched below his. You squirmed atop the blankets, letting your muscles melt into the plush comfort of them.
Next to you, Ada reached the high too. Watching you fall apart was the final straw in her own resolve. She bucked her hips and nuzzled into your throat while crumbling under the bliss of release.
Leon was the last one to join the club. He fucked you through your euphoria while approaching his own. When he finally hit it, a strangled moan burst from him. He fell forward against you, burying his face in the side of your neck not occupied by his wife. His hands gripped your hips and held them in place as he rolled his pelvis against your ass like a dog in heat. He fucked rope after rope of hot cum into you.
By the time he pulled out, you were nice and full just like he said you would be.
You were also undeniably sleepy. Your eyes were all but shut, and your body was curling up as though you were ready for a nap.
He stretched his arm out and pulled you against his side to rest. His other hand rubbed down your body, tenderly coasting over your soft skin.
“Such a good girl for us. You were so good,” he murmured, “Our sweet baby.”
Ada scooted near your back, her hand joining Leon’s in soothing you.
“Don’t keep her all to yourself,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes. “You had her to yourself hours before I got here,” he dismissed.
She smirked and pecked his lips before looking down at you. Leaning in, she nuzzled your ear. “Sleep now, baby. You need the rest. Daddy will carry you to bed in a little bit,” she whispered.
Like before, you didn’t need any convincing. Your muscles relaxed as they got comfortable and pulled the blankets into place. You let yourself drift off between their two bodies while the storm raged on outside. Your mind slipped into dreamland, letting reality melt away for a little while.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x you#ada wong x reader#ada wong smut#ada wong x you#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil imagines#ch: leon kennedy 💌#ch: ada wong 💌
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A Favour Owed (NSFW)
Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader
Summary: You get caught in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, when Rio Vidal comes to the rescue. In exchange for her help, she asks for a favour with a mischievous glint in her eyes -OR- Rio walks you home in the rain and later cashes in the favour to take you home and fuck you silly (Modern AU)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, more smut, a little bit of fluff at the end, Top Rio, Dom Rio, bratty(ish) reader, even more smut, R receiving: fingering, strap, bondage, blindfolding, light choking
Words: 4.0k
A/N: I planned out the rest of my Agathario backstory and it’s broken my heart so I've countered it by writing this. It is a healthy way to cope and you cannot tell me otherwise.
AO3 link my loves <3 | Master List
It’s pouring rain by the time you leave work, the sky dark and brooding as you step outside. You don’t even make it half a block before the downpour hits, drenching you in seconds. You duck under the awning of a nearby café. Already soaked through, hair dripping, you curse yourself for not checking the weather before you left the office. The wide-legged jeans cling uncomfortable to your legs, heavy with water, and the cropped olive cardigan you thought would be perfect for the chill now feels like a poor choice, offering little protection against the rain. Your white tee, once neatly tucked, is now plastered to your skin and slightly see-through. Cursing the cheap fabric, you glance around at the empty street, your teeth starting to chatter as the cold settles in.
As you stand there shivering, you notice someone approaching through the sheets of rain—a figure in all black, moving with a confident stride. It’s only when she steps closer that you realise it’s Rio Vidal, her umbrella held high above her head. You’ve seen her at the gym more times than you can count, occasionally sharing a class. You’ve exchanged a few nods and maybe a smile or two, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone. You don’t expect her to stop now, not in this weather. But then she sees you, and for a moment, you think she’s just going to walk on by.
But she pauses when she spots you, her expression unreadable as her eyes flick over your drenched figure. You can tell she’s about to keep going—there’s a split second where she looks away, like she’s debating whether she cares enough to stop. Then she rolls her eyes, heaves a dramatic sigh, and steps under the awning with you.
“Really?” she drawls, tilting her head as she looks you up and down, eyes lingering at the sight of your bra showing through the now definitely see-through top. “No umbrella?”
You shrug, giving her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t realise I had to expect a monsoon today.”
Her lips twitch into a smirk, and she shakes her head. “Clearly.” Without another word, she shifts under her umbrella, angling it so it covers both of you. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”
You fall in step beside her, matching her pace as you make your way down the rain-soaked street. It was awkward at first, the two of you trying to find a rhythm without bumping into each other. You make a bit of small talk, mostly about the weather, but then Rio starts teasing you, throwing out little jabs at your lack of preparedness, and you find yourself laughing despite the rain soaking through your clothes.
“Do you always go out unarmed in a storm?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"I like to live dangerously,” you grin.
“Oh, is that what this is?” she retorts dryly. “Because it looks like poor planning to me.”
You snort, bumping into her playfully. “Careful, you might actually sound concerned.”
Her smirk softens into something warmer, and for a moment, she just looks at you, as if she’s seeing you for the first time. It’s disarming, the way her eyes linger, and you suddenly realise how close you’re standing.
As you walk, the rain intensifies, pounding against the umbrella. Rio adjusts it, stepping even closer until her arm presses against yours. You glance at her. She had chosen to shelter you with the umbrella more even though it meant she was getting caught in the downpour; the scent of her perfume mixing with the rain is intoxicating, and you can’t help but shiver.
“You’re getting wet,” you murmur mostly to yourself, voice softer than you intended.
She looks down at you, her smile widening into something almost predatory. “You have no idea, darling,” she says, her voice dropping low. The look in her eyes is heated—a flicker of something you’ve never seen before—and it makes you shiver for a completely different reason.
You hold her gaze, the world fading away around you. The rain, the city noise—it all melts into the background, leaving just the two of you standing there, inches apart. It would be oh so easy to lean in, to close the gap between you. But then she clears her throat, stepping back just slightly, and the moment breaks.
“We should keep moving,” she says, almost too casually, like she’s trying to convince herself as much as you.
You nod, swallowing hard. “Right. Yeah.”
Soon enough, the conversation picks up again and you’re back to casual teasing.
“You know, they do sell these things called coats,” she says, glancing sideways at you with a teasing smile.
“Oh yeah?” You play along, nudging her lightly with your elbow. “I’ll have to look into that.”
She laughs—a low, husky sound that makes your pulse skip. “You probably should. You look like a drowned rat.”
“Rude,” you shot back, but you’re smiling, warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold rain.
By the time you reach your street, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. She stops, tilting the umbrella back as she looks up at the sky. You quickly steal a glance at her neck, imagining what it would be like to trail kisses down her throat, to nip at the soft skin just under her collarbone, to take her ni-
“Looks like you’re safe now,” she says, a small, teasing smile playing at her lips.
The words snapped you out of your daydream.
Shit. She had caught you staring. And oh fuck, your mouth had dropped open slightly as you fantasised about her. Your clothes weren’t the only thing that was wet now. “Uh, um, yep. Thanks for the rescue,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck, trying to play it cool. “I owe you one.” You offer her a weak smile.
She cocks her head, considering you for a moment. “Yeah, you do.” There’s a flash of something playful in her eyes.
You raise an eyebrow, surprised by her easy agreement. “Oh? Planning to cash it in?”
Her smirk widens. “Maybe,” she says, voice low. “But I like to keep people guessing.”
Before you can respond to invite her in for a drink, she steps back, giving you a small, almost imperceptible wink before turning on her heal and walking away, leaving you standing there, wetter than you had been when she first found you but not from the rain.
-
You’re still thinking about your little encounter with Rio the next day at the gym. You’re in the locker room, towelling off after a particularly gruelling class, when you hear the familiar sound of a certain teasing voice. You glance up and see Rio leaning against the row of lockers, arms crossed over her chest, watching you with that same smirk from the day before. It was only then you noticed just how attractive you found her hands as they gripped her bicep.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she drawls, arching an eyebrow.
You chuckle, tossing your towel into your bag. “It’s almost like I come here at the same time every day or something.”
She doesn’t reply straight away; instead, she pushes her tongue into the cheek of her mouth, shaking her head at your retort. She pushes off the locker and steps closer. “Almost,” her gaze flicks over you, lingering just a moment too long. “You remember that favour you owe me?”
Your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your belly at the way she’s looking at you—dark eyes glinting with mischief, like she’s got a secret she’s about to share.
You swallow hard, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I remember. You planning to cash it in?”
“Oh, definitely.” She takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Your body seemed to be absorbing all of her heat and sending it straight between your legs. She reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, and her fingers linger against your cheek, a teasing caress that makes you ache with need.
“What did you have in mind?” you ask, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.
Her smirk widens, and she leans in, her lips brushing yours as she whispers, “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”
You shiver, your breath catching in your throat as she pulls back, giving you one last lingering look before she turns on her heel and saunters out of the locker room. Your heart is racing, anticipation thrumming through your veins. For a split second, you stand there frozen, unsure if you imagined the intensity in her gaze.
But then, just as you start to gather your things, you hear her voice call back from the doorway, rich and teasing.
“Well, are you coming? And remember to pick your jaw up off the floor on the way out.”
Your pulse spikes at the challenge in her tone, the words hanging in the air, heavy with desire. You don’t think. You don’t hesitate. You grab your bag, rushing to follow her out of the locker room, silently cursing yourself for being caught gaping at her once again
She’s already halfway down the corridor, glancing over her shoulder with a grin that sends a thrill through you. “Hurry up,” she calls, her voice low, almost like a command.
You catch up to her as she pushes through the gym’s exit, the cool night air hitting your skin. Without missing a beat, she heads straight for the parking lot, her steps purposeful. You fall in line beside her, curiosity and desire mixing in equal measure.
Her car is parked near the back, and before you can say anything, she’s unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat with an easy, confident motion. She looks over at you as you approach, her eyes dark and inviting.
“Get in,” she says, low and charged.
You don’t need to be told twice. You slide into the passenger seat, and before you know it, the engine roars to life, the sound of tyres crunching on the gravel as she drives with purpose. The ride is quiet but thick with anticipation, the only sounds coming from the hum of the car and the occasional shift of your bodies as you both settle into the journey.
When she pulls into the driveway of her place, you can’t help but feel the electric charge in the air—there’s no mistaking the unspoken agreement between you. She parks and turns off the engine, unbuckling her seatbelt, leaving the silence to stretch between you, thick and expectant.
You wait for her to make the first move, and she doesn’t disappoint. Without a word, she reaches across the console, her fingers brushing yours as she unbuckles your seatbelt. “You’re going to see just how much I care,” she whispers in your ear, remembering your teasing comment from yesterday.
You just look at her, mouth going dry, searching for any hint of hesitation, but there’s none. Just an almost predatory stillness to her gaze. She leans down, her lips brushing the side of your neck, setting every nerve in your body alight.
“You wanted to know what I had in mind,” she murmurs against your skin, her breath warm, sending goosebumps over your arms. “I think it’s time you found out.”
She pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, and before you can even respond, she’s kissing you—hard and hungry, her hand tangling in your hair, pulling you close. It’s urgent, like you’ve both been waiting for this moment, the tension from yesterday finally snapping.
Her lips move against yours with a feverish intensity, her hands already tugging at your clothes, exploring the heat between you. There’s no more teasing, no more games. Just the heat of the moment, the rush of desire, and the feeling of her body pressing against yours, claiming you as much as you’re claiming her.
She pulls back for a moment, breathless, her eyes scanning your face with a satisfied smirk. “You wanted to know,” she whispers again, her voice thick with desire, “now you’re going to learn exactly what it means to owe me.”
Before you can respond, she’s already round by your door, pulling you out of the car, her grip firm and unrelenting as she leads you towards her front door. The way she moves is confident, like she’s done this a thousand times, and it sends a thrill of excitement straight to your core. You stumble slightly, half from the urgency, half from the anticipation buzzing through your veins, but she doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath.
Rio unlocks the door with swift precision, shoving it open and tugging you inside. The moment you cross the threshold, she’s on you again, pinning you against the closed door with her body, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your hip.
“Do you need me to do everything for you?” she murmurs, her voice full of mockery as she tilts your chin up with a single finger. There’s a taunting gleam in her eyes, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you, and it’s infuriatingly effective.
You try to muster a cocky retort, smirking up at her. “Maybe I just like making you work for it.”
Her laugh is low and dark, vibrating against your skin. “Oh, you think you’re in control here?” She presses her knee between your legs, pinning you firmly in place. The pressure is just enough to make you gasp, your bravado faltering for a split second. “That’s cute,” she purrs, leaning in until her lips are brushing against your lips. “But we both know who’s really calling the shots tonight.”
Before you can react, she captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, her hand threading into your hair, tugging just hard enough to make your scalp tingle. It’s a claiming kiss, like she’s determined to make sure you remember this moment, to imprint herself on your body.
You try to push back to regain some semblance of control, but she’s not having it. She breaks the kiss with a sharp tug of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. “I don’t think you understand,” she says, her voice a husky whisper as she drags her lips down the column of your neck, nipping at your skin. “You owe me. And I’m going to take exactly what I’m owed.”
You shiver, a whimper slipping past your lips before you can stop it. You hate how easily she turns you on and how she seems to know every spot that makes you melt. “What if I don’t want to pay up?” you manage to taunt, your voice breathy.
Rio’s smile is slow, scheming. “Oh, you will,” she says simply, stepping back and yanking you by the hand, dragging you down the hallway to her bedroom. You barely have time to register the surroundings before she’s pushing you onto the bed, her body hovering over yours, caging you in.
She pauses, looking down at you with a smirk, her eyes dark and half-lidded with desire. “Do you need me to do everything for you?” She repeats, and this time there’s a distinct edge of command in her voice.
You raise an eyebrow, refusing to look away. “Maybe I do.”
She chuckles, the sound low and almost dangerous. “Fine,” she breathes, leaning down to kiss you again, softer this time but no less intense. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Her hands are everywhere, tugging at your clothes, stripping you bare with a skill and efficiency that leaves you breathless. Every touch feels like it’s setting you on fire, the anticipation building to a fever as she takes her time, teasing, testing your limits. When you try to touch her, she grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand.
“Ah, ah,” she chimes, her grin sharp. “You said you needed me to do everything for you. So keep your hands to yourself, and let me take care of you.”
You want to argue, to push back, but the look in her eyes makes you hesitate. There’s a thrill in giving in, in letting her take control, and you realise with a pulse of excitement that you want this—want to see what she’ll do when she’s given free rein.
Rio doesn’t waste any time. Her mouth is on your skin, lips and teeth and tongue, exploring every inch of you. She’s relentless, drawing out sounds from you that you didn’t even know you could make. When her hand slips between your thighs, you arch into her touch, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.
“Already?” she teases, her fingers teasing along your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where you want her most. “You talk a big game, but look at you now. So eager, so needy.”
You glare up at her, trying to muster a retort, but it comes out as a whine instead when she finally touches you where you need it most, her fingers sliding against your slick heat. She smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the way you react, your back arching off the bed, your hips bucking into her hand.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, her voice soft but edged with dominance. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? You’re going to give me everything I want.”
You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan. “Maybe,” you say, aiming for defiance but sounding breathless instead.
Her smirk widens. “Maybe?” she repeats, leaning down until her mouth is at your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “That’s not good enough.”
With a sudden, purposeful movement, she shifts, sliding two fingers inside you, her thumb pressing against your most sensitive spot. You cry out, your hands instinctively trying to reach for her, but she tightens her grip on your wrists, keeping you pinned down.
“Say it,” she commands, her voice low and insistent. “Say you’ll be good for me.”
You struggle for a moment, clinging to the last shred of your pride, but when she curls her fingers just right, the pleasure shoots through you like a lightning bolt, and you break.
“I’ll be good,” you gasp, your voice almost a sob. “I’ll be good for you, Rio.”
She hums in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your mouth. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips curling into a smile against your skin. “Now let me show you what it means to really owe me.”
Once again, you are gaping at the woman before you, and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. Your moans are gradually growing louder and more unhinged with each stroke of Rio’s fingers, and you’re about to cum when she pulls away completely.
You whine at the loss of touch, but this only spurs Rio on more. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” she asks, now running her hands up and down your sides. “I’m going to undress for you now, and you need to look at me the whole time, okay?”
You’re not sure if you should answer. Not sure if you can answer. The questions seem rhetorical, but you’re so eager to get her touch back that you nod enthusiastically, hoping it’s the right thing to do.
Rio chuckles softly at your desperation and starts to strip. It’s slow and deliberate. She starts by shimmying her shorts down, kicking them into the corner with a flick of her foot. Next she peels off her top, crossing her arms at the hem and pulling it over her head slowly. Very slowly. The action pushes Rio’s tits together, drawing your eyes to her cleavage. It’s all too much, and you bring your hand down and start to touch yourself, your eyes fluttering shut. Feeling your wetness on your fingers for the first time, you let out a soft pathetic whimper.
Big mistake. Rio is on you in an instant, tugging your hand away and securing your wrists to the bed frame with ropes you had failed to notice until now.
“If you can’t behave, I will make you behave.” Rio snapped, her voice wasn’t malicious, no, instead, it almost came out as a moan and you realised just how turned on she was.
Disappearing into her closet briefly, she quickly returns, holding something behind her back and an innocent smile plastered across her face, but her eyes hid something more dangerous. “Shut your eyes,” she demanded. “Now.”
You obliged and then felt as the mattress dipped with her weight. You could feel her straddling your waist, gently lifting your head to put something over your eyes.
“Since you clearly didn’t want to watch,” she clarified, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
You strain your ears trying to get some sort of idea of what was going on but you cannot make out any distinct noise. That’s when you feel her start to caress your legs again, trailing light, teasing kisses right up to your core.
She was kneeling between your thighs when you felt the tip of something cold and hard push in to your entrance.
“Fffuuuuccckkkk,” you moan, drawing out the word as Rio’s strap fills you completely.
Her movements are slow at first, easing you in to it. “You’re being so good for me, darling,” she coos. “Taking me so well.” Then her pace starts picking up, thrusting in to you harder each time.
It’s a relentless pleasure, and you can feel yourself barrelling towards an orgasm. Rio must sense it too as she grasps her hand around your throat, giving it a light squeeze. “Ask for it.”
“Pl-please. Please Rio. I need to cum,” you try your hardest to get your words out between moans, unsure if you could actually stop yourself from climaxing if she denies your pleas.
Luckily for you, you don’t have to find out as Rio hums her agreement, tilting your hips to reach another angle. “Good girl. Cum for me, I want to watch your beautiful face as you cum,” you hear her gasp out, clearly working herself up as well.
You climax with a flurry of moans and gasps, arching further into Rio. The woman fucking you shows no sign of stopping, drawing out the pleasure. You feel her leaning over to her nightstand, picking something up with a grunt, when the stap rubs just right against her clit. Just as you start to wonder what an earth she had picked up, you hear a faint click, and suddenly the strap starts vibrating inside you.
This time it’s both of you moaning and gasping with each thrust as Rio guides you through another orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck,” Rio is panting. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming.” Rio collapses into you, breathing hard. She stays there for a while before slowly pulling out and removing the blindfold, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
She ducks into her bathroom, grabbing a cloth to clean you up. Her touches are gentle and soothing. “You did so good, sweetheart.” Rio’s voice is soft as she lies down next to you, scooping you into her arms.
You look up at her, blinking slowly, the adrenaline draining out of you. “That was not what I had in mind when I said I owe you one,” you sigh, coming to rest your head on her chest.
“Oh yeah?” One of Rio’s hands comes up to play with your hair, the other stroking up and down your arm. “And what were you thinking of, hmm?” She whispers softly. “Because your staring was definitely not subtle.”
All you can do is huff out a small laugh, her hands coaxing you into an easy sleep. With another kiss to the top of your head, Rio wishes you a good night and holds you as you drift off peacefully.
remember to like/reblog if you enjoyed :)
#agatha all along#rio vidal#rio vidal x reader#rio x reader#rio vidal smut#rio vidal fluff#rio x reader smut#rio vidal x reader smut#rio x reader fluff#agatha all along fanfic#rio vidal fic#rio vidal fanfic#aubrey plaza character#alternate universe#marvel#mcu#rio vidal x you#rio x you
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♡ rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader reevaluate their living situation now that she’s carrying a little baby in her tummy.
warnings: babydaddy!rafe, pregnancy, soooo much fluff, crying (mostly happy tears! no worries), rafe is so reassuring :(
a/n: introducing rafe’s condo to my blog.. but tanneyhill will forever be my go-to :( also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the ‘₊˚⊹♡ babydaddy!rafe x pogue!sweetheart!reader’ tag on this post!
“why do you look so sad, baby?” rafe joined you outside, bringing you a cold glass of water as he urged you to sit down on his lap. you were growing teary-eyed again, your gaze falling on the pink and white camper in front of you. taking a small sip, rafe held onto the glass for you while you wiped at your tear stained cheeks. “it’s just,” you sniffled, “i know we can’t raise a baby here, but this little thing— it’s all i’ve ever known..” you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. rafe studied you for a moment, stroking the side of your face.
“i’ve been meaning to talk about that actually,” rafe cleared his throat, “what if we didn’t go house hunting?” his words drew your attention, a hum falling from your lips. “and stay here? i would love that,” you shook your head, “but i know it’s for the best. we barely fit in there ourselves.” rafe laughed. “yeah, i know.. someone is always bumping their head when we have sex.” your cheeks heated as you slapped his arm playfully. “well to be fair, it was just me in there before you came along,” you sighed, “i can’t even imagine that now.” you pecked his cheek.
“at first, i thought maybe we could check out some houses on figure eight..” your eyes widened, your lips parting to reject his suggestion. “but,” rafe interjected, “i know that’s not really your scene.” he reassured you. “so i want to propose something else,” both of you looked at each other, “i’ve been working on this blueprint, m’thinking we just get our house built out here. you could design the kitchen however you want, whatever would be best for you and your baking, we can put the nursery together, do the whole thing y’know. go the whole nine yards.” you swallowed thickly, tears pricking your eyes.
“you have a blueprint?” you smiled, your vision becoming blurry as rafe nodded. “yeah, you wanna see?” you whispered a ‘yes, please!’ before he guided you inside. he reached for a spot you couldn’t reach in your cabinet, unraveling the blueprint in question. “see, right here? i thought you’d like the kitchen to have big window facing the backyard, oh, and right here!” he pointed a finger, “we could have shelves built into the walls for the baby’s room, we could even have a reading nook for bedtime stories..” your heart felt so full right now, you swore it could burst at the seams.
“what’s this empty space right here in the backyard?” you held up the paper, pointing to a spot where a little white heart was drawn. “..that would be where your camper goes.” your head shot in his direction, your eyebrows knitting in confusion. “what do you mean?” you put the blueprint down, turning around while he caged you between his arms. “i think we should build the house just right out front, you don’t have to move anything, relocate the camper, none of that. i could start getting the brush cleared out as soon as next week.” you blinked, your brain trying its best to piece everything together.
“you thought of all of this in the two weeks since we found out?” your hands snaked up his chest until your arms wrapped around his neck. rafe embraced you, his eyes shutting at the sweet scent of your perfume. “i told you, you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart. i’m taking care of everything.” you breathed him in, both of you rocking softly as the wind chimes sung outside in the light breeze. you two stayed in a comfortable silence, the image of watching the sunset together on the porch of your own house with a baby on your hip flooded both of your minds.
“it’s perfect.” you looked up at him, smiling when he pecked the tip of your nose. “the three of us, huh?” rafe loved the way that sounded rolling off of his tongue. “mhmm,” you let out a shaky breath, “the three of us.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ babydaddy!rafe#₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader#₊˚⊹♡ babydaddy!rafe x pogue!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine
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Homecoming
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ synopsis: the general of luofu awaits your return home into his arms
✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, jing yuan's inner monologue about his dear lover
✧ a/n: kicks down door, GUESS WHOSE BACK! I HOPE. this was word vomit so if there's anything wrong or amiss, no there isn't. I wanted to write a lil fluff before going back to my self indulgent fic (and writing for phainon too) im sorry wife i left you alone for MONTHS!! anyway i hope you all just like this fluffy piece where an overthinking jing yuan eagerly awaits your return home <3 this is just mostly jing yuan monologue cause the reader doesn't appear before the end but <3 i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you all for your patience !! hopefully i'll update a bit more from now!
If you were to tap a Xianzhou citizen on the shoulder and ask for their opinion on the dozing general of the Luofu, they would describe him as a wise and benevolent general, a bit too easy-going for his position, a cat lover and an advocate that everyone should have 3 hot meals each day.
They would never describe the general of the Luofu as someone who would openly show his emotions.
And yet, on a seemingly normal sunny afternoon on the Luofu, tucked into a corner of Cloudford in what should be a normal port for any ship carrying cargo from other worlds to dock for the day - stands the general of the Xianzhou Luofu, alone.
It’s a weird sight, the general has nothing to do with cargo transportation - let alone overseeing any new ships coming to dock upon the Luofu for the day unless it was a fellow general or the marshal themselves.
Yet here he was, often times leaning a bit too close to the edge of the dock to scavenge any new ships coming to land in this specific area that’s unoccupied, his free hand that’s not propping his whole body on the railing is busy fiddling around with his phone - he occasionally unlocks it to re-read the message that’s been left open ever since this morning, scrounging for anything new - to see if you’ve edited the message to another location.
But it’s still the same, even after the 7th time he’s read the message.
“There’s a bit more cargo than we expected from the marshal, so instead of landing at the usual dock at Starskiff Haven, we’re going to dock at the northernmost dock in Cloudford. We should arrive before the delegations from Zhuming and Yaoqing, but remember to greet them if they come here before me!”
Jing Yuan let out a long sigh, stuffing his phone back into his pocket before looking around the dock. It’s hardly an appropiate place to greet you back, surrounded by boxes upon boxes of either different furniture or weapons for the Cloud Knights - maybe even some souvenirs from the various traders that have settled in Luofu.
You should be greeted by the vast open sky that you’ve loved to see in Luofu each morning when you wake up by his side, watch the various starskiffs soar in the sky while the wind graces you with the various leaves adorned throughout the Luofu - all while glancing back at him with the same gentle smile you’ve greeted him for the past hundred years.
The ever so aloof general lets out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run through his more than usual messy bangs to keep his mind away from the thoughts of you, “You would’ve nagged me for letting my hair become even more unruly if you saw me now…”
It did not work at all.
Maybe he can convince Qingzu to arrange a specific port in Cloudford just for you, but that would only make both you and her regard him with disappointment at where he puts the resources of Luofu at - although he can see the glint of affection that crosses your eyes whenever he jokingly suggests building your entire private port so that you’re not mobbed by the citizens each time you come back from your own delegations.
Jing Yuan takes one more glance towards the phone he had just pocketed, how can that it’s only been 2 mere minutes after he last checked? He swears it must’ve been a system hour at least since he’s arrived at the dock.
Maybe something had happened, you’re usually on time after all. Is the traffic to enter Luofu bigger than the usual? Granted the Wardance was just announced and a lot of people from all over have come to finally step foot into Luofu again after the stellaron incident. But you usually predicted this and would arrive even earlier to be on time. Maybe he should contact Yukong and see if there’s any-
His racing mind comes to a screeching halt when he hears the familiar roar of the starskiff engine turn to a mere hum near him - the sound much closer than the starskiffs flying above him.
For some reason, he did not dare look up - Of course the northernmost dock wasn’t just meant for your ship to land, numerous others had already landed here before. Aeons above, he had greeted another cargo ship who were pleasantly surprised to see his appearance when he had first entered the area after all.
Jing Yuan could feel his palms sweat the tiniest bit, and suddenly he was actuely aware that he kept bouncing back and forth on his heels - something he even thought to himself was unknown behaviour from him. He had after all, never been this giddy or nervous to meet someone at all.
But then again, ever since you’ve arrived in his life - he’s shown sides of himself he didn’t know was there at all.
Oh dear, I’ve sure been spoiled by them.
Before he can derail even more into his thoughts, his downcast gaze is suddenly locked with your own curious ones, a raised eyebrow and lips jutting out a tiny bit in concern.
And suddenly, Jing Yuan feels his entire body relax, his tense shoulders finally slack and he exals deeply - which in turn makes you even more confused. “Jing Yuan? What are you even doing out- woah!”
You’re not able to even finish your question before your lover lifts you up with seemingly no effort, a gleeful smile paints his lips and his eyes crinkle the tiniest bit at the corners. The sudden upwards movement makes you yelp a tiny bit, immediately putting your hands on his shoulders in reflex while a light dust of red covers your cheek at the display of affection, “Jing-!”
But you can already tell he’s not listening to you at all, gently setting you down on the ground again before his arms wrap around your lower waist, fingers pressing against your lower back to press your body further into his own - completey ignoring the snickering Cloud Knights behind the two of you who have become used to the general display of affection towards you.
“… How was your trip, dear?” he finally asks, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second to let you breathe. You let out a sigh in return, raising your arm to place a hand on his cheek - Jing Yuan immediately leaning against it before turning his head to peck your palm, “You already know how it’s been, no? I’ve sent you updates each morning and night after all.”
Jing Yuan merely hums, gliding his lips down towards your wrists before he leans his body closer to your own to nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling softly, “Dear, you know I appreciate hearing about your day rather than reading a bunch of text.”
The little laugh you let out makes Jing Yuan let out a little giggle himself, but you feel his hold tighten around you when you try to squirm away from him, “Now, now - I haven’t seen you for months now, beloved. Don’t try to run away now.”
“Jing Yuan if you haven’t noticed we are still in public-” you try to reason, but your lover doesn’t listen, reduced to a mere overgrown cat in your presence as he tries to get even closer to your own body - there’s barely any room between your for air to even pass between the two of you.
You raise an eyebrow in confusion, gripping the arms around your waist to at least make him lessen the grip he has on you, "Jing Yuan, at least let me-"
“I missed you,” he finally whispers silently, and all your previous squirming comes to a halt when you feel the slight tremble in his voice. And it’s only when you register that tremble do you realize that his hands that are splayed by your neck to keep you in place are shaking ever so slightly, “… More than I thought I would.” he confesses, to your ears only.
You let out a light huff, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your hand into his hair so you can tuck his face further into your neck, leaning your cheek against his hair, “I’m home, Jing Yuan.” you confirm, turning your head to peck the top of his head once.
Like he understood your request immediately, Jing Yuan leans back to face you once again, a slight guilty look on his features for subjecting you to a situation he knows you deem a bit uncomfortable. But the smile you give him relieves him of his troubling thoughts. You shake your head silently, a quiet answer to his equally silent apology before you cradle both his cheeks in your hands to keep him in place before slotting your lips over his own. He lets out a small sigh into your mouth, pressing his lips firmly against your own before parting slightly, the gentle, easy-going smile you're used to seeing back on his lips. “Welcome home, my dear.”
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail imagines#hsr x you#star rail x reader#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#x reader#reader insert
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hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:
reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.
Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)
I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3
can you come get me? | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!
Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.
It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.
The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.
JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”
Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.
“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.
It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.
Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.
Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.
JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.
Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.
Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.
Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.
Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.
Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”
There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.
“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.
Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.
You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.
His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.
“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.
Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.
After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”
“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.
A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.
She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”
Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.
Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.
A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”
“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”
The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.
“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.
Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”
He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.
“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.
Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.
Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.
He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”
Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.
For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.
The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.
Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.
Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.
You were silent.
As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.
In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.
Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.
While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.
Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.
The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.
A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.
“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.
Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”
He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”
Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.
The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.
“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.
While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.
Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”
“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.
Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”
Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”
Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”
The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.
Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.
He left that last part out of his message to your father.
As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.
A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.
“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.
Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”
Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.
Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.
You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?
He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.
Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.
The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.
“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.
Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”
Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.
“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”
Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.
Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”
“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.
Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.
He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.
Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.
In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.
Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.
Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.
You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.
Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.
In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.
His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.
“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.
With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.
Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.
Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.
He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.
“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.
You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”
The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.
Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”
Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”
You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”
It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.
“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.
Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#margot's requests#spencer reid hurt/comfort#criminal minds hurt/comfort
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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl
Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)
Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)
Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".
Content: Brandon.
r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.
Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.
Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.
That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.
“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale.
“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”
“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.
You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him.
“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”
More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.
You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…
“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.
“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”
“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”
You blink. “You are?”
“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”
An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?
“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”
He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.
“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”
Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”
“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”
“Be safe, Ky.”
“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”
You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.
You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?
Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.
But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.
Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.
Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.
Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.
Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)
“Where are you going?”
You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.
“The Hay Festival,” you answer.
Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.
“Alone?”
You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”
The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol.
“I need that suitcase.”
You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”
He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”
Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?
You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.
“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.
There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.
“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.
When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.
This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.
“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”
He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”
You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”
That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.
Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.
“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.
“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.
“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”
He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.
Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.
Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…
“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”
Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.
The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”
He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.
As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.
“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”
You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”
“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”
“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.
“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”
He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.
“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.
“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.
You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.
“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”
“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”
“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.
You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.
“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.
You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.
r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.
A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.
Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.
I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)
Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.
Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.
I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.
My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.
She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?
Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.
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#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#misters steal your girl#kyle gaz x reader#john soap mactavish#healthy polyamory#brandon the crash dummy
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(nsfw) bestfriend!bakugou catches you sneaking over
🔞 minors please do not interact!!! nsfw under the cut
bestfriend!bakugou x fem!reader, college au (bkg & reader are both of legal age), masturbation, heavy petting, loss of virginity, degradation, teasing, praise kink, fingering, clitoral stimulation, rough sex
summary: you get caught masturbating in his bed
part 3/3 of the bestfriend!bakugou likes to sneak over series (completed)
back to part 1 (sfw) 💥 part 2 (sfw)
about a month after katsuki’s parents found out about you, his darling best friend since childhood and now his girlfriend, sneaking over late at night, they gave you a spare key to the house. you had initially refused their offer, red-faced and stammering profusely, “nononono, i couldn’t! this is too much—” but mitsuki kept insisting, and katsuki couldn’t stand anymore of her damn whining and told you to just take the damn key. you relented.
the next day, katsuki decided to hit the gym after school and told you to go home first.
“huh? but your mom’s cooking dinner tonight, isn’t she?” you frowned. it was a friday. you always ate dinner at katsuki’s on fridays.
katsuki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “no shit?”
“then why would i go home? i’ll just wait for you to finish up at the gym and go back with—”
“i meant my home, dumbass.”
“i can’t sneak over when you’re not home!”
“who the fuck said anythin’ ‘bout sneakin’? you have a fuckin’ key, for fuck’s sake!”
for some reason, using the key to unlock the door later that day felt more egregious than all the other times you had snuck over to katsuki’s place. you thanked the stars that katsuki’s parents were working. that definitely made things slightly less nerve-wracking for you.
still, you couldn’t help but take your phone out to text katsuki.
you: suki
you: i’m home
katsuki’s reply came after a few moments (he always left notifications for your chat turned on, even at the gym).
katsuki💣: Ok
you: i’m gonna go shower
you: then i’ll revise for next wk’s history test
katsuki💣: Cool status report I guess.
you pouted at his dry response.
you: ure so mean
you: it’s weird doing things at ur place when ure not home
you: feels wrong
katsuki💣: The point of having a damn key is for you to come over
katsuki💣: Even when I’m not around
katsuki💣: I’ll see you later idiot
katsuki💣: Stop spamming me
you sighed. katsuki was right.
you: okayyyyy see you later
you: i love you
katsuki💣: You know I love you too
you smiled, reacting to his message with a ‘❤️’. katsuki was right about that too.
you showered and slipped into one of katsuki’s hoodies. on katsuki, the hoodie fitted his shoulders and broad frame just right, but on you, it was oversized.
you sat on katsuki’s bed and whipped out your notes and laptop to start studying. about two hours later, you found yourself increasingly bored. it was weird, not having katsuki around. even if katsuki was more or less silent when you two studied together, he’d always be there to check in on you occasionally, grabbing your hand to press gentle kisses on each of your knuckles, or grabbing an elastic band (he kept a few on his nightstand for you) to bun up your hair.
you contemplated texting katsuki, but it was already almost 5pm; he should be back anytime now.
maybe you should take a break from studying. you sighed, getting up from the bed to place your study materials onto katsuki’s desk. you plopped back down in bed, pulling the covers over yourself.
like this, you were completely engulfed in katsuki’s scent — sweet, musky caramel. you had always been addicted to katsuki’s smell. you wish he was here to hold you, in his big, strong arms. god, he’s so big. and fuck, he must’ve looked so good at the gym, in that black compression tee that you bought for his birthday last year. you can’t believe he’s your boyfriend. yours, yours, yours—
you eyes squeeze shut, and you can’t help the way your hips start grinding into the pillow between your legs. it’s so hot down there, and you just wish katsuki was here to hold you, touch you, make you feel good—
you gasped, and your hand moves downwards, beneath the waistband of your and into your panties. your pussy is soaking, dripping, throbbing, and you can’t help the tiny moan that escapes your parted lips. it had only been a month since you and katsuki had started dating, but you’ve been growing increasingly pent-up and frustrated; every time one of your makeout sessions got too steamy, katsuki would always pull away, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. you knew katsuki well enough to know that it wasn’t because he didn’t want you (fuck, you’ve seen, felt his erection press against your thigh so many times), but because he, the perfectionist that he is, wanted your first time together to be perfect.
you found it endearing, really, you had always known that katsuki has always been sentimental about things, especially when it came to you, but fuck, you wanted him, needed him.
“fuck, katsuki,” you moaned. you were getting impatient. you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing quick, hard circles. you wanted to cum, fuck, your pussy— “feels too good. hnng— fuuuck, m’close, m’gonna cu—”
“feelin’ good without me?” you imagine katsuki on top of you, smirking down deviously at you, eyes bright with mischief. you whine, and your hand stops.
“fuck, m’sorry,” you whimpered, grabbing katsuki’s hoodie to pull it up to your face. you writhe, feeling your pussy throb in want as you inhale the scent deeply. “wanna feel good with you, wanna make you feel good, ‘suki, please, please, i’ll do anyth—”
the covers are ripped away from you, your body suddenly exposed to cold air. you gasp, eyes flying open to see— oh, fuck.
katsuki stands at the edge of the bed, and god, he really is in that damn compression tee, and you moan at the sight. your fingers continue moving against your clit for a moment, but you watch as katsuki’s eyes flickered down to the movement, to your bare, exposed, leaking pussy, and you cross your legs shyly.
“y/n,” katsuki grits out, dragging his eyes slowly up to meet your gaze. you wonder if you’re imagining the lust swimming in his eyes, or if it’s just your own lust that’s clouding your judgement. you bite your lip, embarrassment washing over you, but you can’t tear your gaze away from katsuki.
“y/n,” katsuki repeats. he doesn’t move. “tell me to fuck off, and i will.”
you look at him, standing at the foot of the bed, jaw clenched and fists balled into tight fists at his sides. his face is flushed, and you almost feel sorry for putting him in this situation.
“don’t go,” you whimpered. “need you, ‘suki.”
and suddenly, katsuki is on top of you, arms and legs caging your body while his hands cup your cheeks. he kisses you, and your lips fall open with an embarrassingly loud moan, and katsuki’s tongue forces its way into your mouth. you didn’t think you could want him more, but in that moment, feeling the wetness of his slick tongue against yours, you think you do. you rub your thighs together, already sticky from your juices.
katsuki pulls away, and you whine. he ignores the way you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him back down for another kiss.
“ya sure ‘bout this?” katsuki says, voice gruff but stern. a hand goes to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair slightly, before ducking his head down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “need ya to be sure.” he kisses your neck.
“katsuki,” you moan as katsuki begins suckling at the spot, biting and licking and sucking. “fuck me, please?”
katsuki groans, his hips falling as he finally grinds down against you. your hips move upwards reflexively to press your core against his. fuck, he’s so hard.
“you,” he growls accusingly. “said ya didn’t wanna come over, cuz it felt wrong?” his hands find their way to your hoodie (correction: his hoodie) and he tugs at it. you tug at his shirt in response, and he shifts backwards to undress himself. you do the same.
you stare at katsuki, clad in just his boxers. big, is all you can think as you stare at the obvious outline of his dick.
when he lies on top of you again, your naked bodies are pressed flushed against each other. this time, however, his hands are cupping your breasts, and he presses featherlight kisses on the top of your chest, making you whine.
“why did it feel wrong, huh?” katsuki presses, eyes darting upwards to meet yours. his touch finds your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers harshly. a smug smirk tugs at the corner of his lips at the drawn-out moan that the touch illicits from you. his hands continue moving down and down, tickling over your skin, until one hand ghosts over your leaking pussy. his other hand holds your waist.
he takes two fingers and drags them along the wet slit of your cunt, smearing your slick all over his fingertips.
“katsuki, fuck!” you cry out, voice a garbled mess as your hips stutter.
shamelessly, katsuki continues to tease you. he finally tears his gaze from yours as he brings his face down to your pussy. he looks at his fingers, coated and glistening in your thick juices.
katsuki brings his fingers between his lips, and sucks on them obscenely, sticking his tongue out to lick around them, between them—
you moan like a bitch in heat.
“is this why, hm?” katsuki pulls his fingers out his mouth with a ‘pop’. without warning, he shoves his fingers into your dripping cunt. your hand flies to your mouth, and you try to stifle your screams as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out.
“felt wrong cuz you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, right?” katsuki demanded, eyes flicking hungrily between the fucked-out look on your face and your pussy. “you knew you’d start touching yourself like this, like a needy slut, the moment i’m not around to keep an eye on you.” he rubs a thumb against your clit, and you cum around his fingers.
your eyes squeeze shut, moaning and moaning as you tremble under his touch. katsuki continues rubbing your clit, relishing in your noises and the shivers that wrack through your body, until your hips are squirming away from overstimulation.
“dirty girl,” katsuki scolds, though his face is more smug than angry. “what am i gonna do with you, hm?”
“f— fuck,” you stutter through gritted teeth, still coming down from the highs of your orgasm. “fuck me, kats.”
“can’t hear you,” katsuki smirks. he pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt, and pries your lips open with them until they’re shoved deep in your mouth. your eyes sting with tears and you start to choke as his fingers hit the back of your throat. “speak up, sweets.”
“f— fua—“ you tried to speak around his fingers, but your words came out a garbled mess.
“hah?” katsuki snickers. you’re too horny to be mad. “come again?” this time, katsuki relents, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth.
“fuck me, please,” you manage to choke out between your coughs. katsuki takes pity on you, you think, as he presses an apologetic kiss to the corner of your lips.
“slut.”
katsuki flips you over onto your belly, and you instinctively prop yourself on your hands and knees as he positions himself behind you. curiously, you twist your head to look at him and holy shit—
katsuki’s boxers are off, and his cock is so big. it’s thick and veiny, and you make a mental note to suck him off later, but for now, you let out an impatient whine as you back your hips to grind your ass against his cock.
katsuki clicks his tongue disapprovingly. he places his hands on your ass, kneading the soft, fleshy fat, as he lines his cock to your entrance.
you let out a moan when you feel the head of his dick press against your entrance. then, he presses in and—
“fuuuuuck—”
“fuckin’ hell,” katsuki groans, hands moving to hold your waist as he bottoms out inside of your pussy. his dick is so deep inside you. your pussy throbs and clenches around him. “such good pussy. so perfect,” he starts thrusting, and you start seeing stars.
“yer so good for me,” katsuki rasps, and you moan happily at the praise.
“yes, yes, yes, all for you, ‘suki, all yours, love you, love your dick so much,” you babble. your hands fumble around the bed until you find what you’re looking for - katsuki’s hoodie - and you pull it towards you before sinking your face into it. the smell drives you crazy.
“greedy girl,” katsuki says with a slap to your ass. his hips thrust into you faster, harder. “already fuckin’ you senseless, and you still want that thing? fuckin’ insatiable.” you try to apologise, for being such a slut, but as katsuki’s pace becomes punishing, you can only let out broken screams.
“shit, m’not gonna last like this, sweets,” katsuki pants shakily, hands gripping your waist even tighter. his thrusts become shallow and sloppy. “pussy’s too fuckin’ good.”
“s’okay, ‘sukiii,” you moan drunkenly, eyes rolling back. you’re already so fucked out, letting katsuki do all the work. “cum for me, wanna feel you cum inside me.”
one last thrust, and your words are pushing katsuki over the edge, and he barely makes it in time to pull out. as his cock spills warm, sticky cum all over your ass and back, katsuki lets out a stream of curses, groaning quietly. he swears you’re going to be the death of him.
he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder blade.
“ya’d better not lose that fuckin’ key.”
is it obvious that i haven’t written smut in like 3 years
taglist (thank you for your support!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @literallyhere4noreason @nemisimp
#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou katsuki#bakugou fluff#bakugou smut#bakugou imagine#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#bakugou headcanons#bnha headcanons
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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 2
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b18c97667abf6487fba25655c4f3aec1/8ac35530fa32f9b1-27/s540x810/da4c9e1d87ed623263950ee0beefbc12e808c2a3.jpg)
Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a–less–oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: Ok, I’ve decided to make this by series, so this one’s just going to be purely Sylus. I hope nobody minds the specific names/places/etc. I wanted to create a personality for the “player” and add a bit of backstory work (loosely based on yours truly lol) for the sake of storytelling, but there won't be any distinct description of the player’s physical appearance <3 Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, bouts of delusion
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10
Riiiiing– RiiiNGGGGG––
...
“Huh… whazat—?”
A shrill—earsplitting, headache-inducing, completely fucking loud—noise wakes you up rather rudely from your peaceful slumber at… Jesus Christ, what time is it?
You blink your bleary eyes open, once… twice—fuck, all you know that it’s too goddamn early for all this ruckus. Groaning, you clumsily try to find the source of the unexpected wake-up call—quite literally in this case.
Your hand bumps the vibrating phone straight off the edge of the mattress – along with the charger cord still attached to it – and you cuss up a storm when you hear it clatter on the hardwood floor.
The ringing finally stops, and you’re perfectly content to just leave it there and fall back to sleep when, not even ten seconds later, the blasted thing rings back to life, taunting you awake.
Angrily, you wrestle against the threadbare blanket wrapped around your body like a warm cocoon, pushing yourself out of bed with all the rage of a sleep-deprived insomniac who’s been up til the buttcrack of dawn to grab your—huh, relatively intact—phone off the ground, while the charger cable swings haphazardly from the weight of the power brick on its tail end.
Without checking the caller, you swipe right to answer. “What?”
“Don’t use that tone on me, young lady,” Your mother grouses on the other end of the line. “It’s almost noon! Did you just wake up?”
Barely five hours of sleep. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shut your eyes and sigh. “No, mom. Sorry, just had a late night,” you clear your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “What’s up?”
“Oh, dear. Is it because of work again?” Something akin to sympathy replaces the sternness in her voice, and you dread the all-too-familiar spiel that comes next. “You know, honey, there’s a job opening for a– what was it again? I have to double check, but it’s where your Auntie Helen works. You know your Auntie Helen—”
“Mom,” you interrupt, before she could go off on a tangent. “Work is fine, don’t worry. Why d’you call?”
“Should I need a reason to call my daughter who's living by her lonesome, a country away from—”
“Mom!”
“Oh, alright,” she finally relents, sounding slightly exasperated. “Were you able to book me and Jodie the roundtrip flight to Orlando? Your cousin’s wedding is barely a month away and I want all the documents ready by now, sweetie.”
Shit. “Ah— yeah. I’ll email you the flight itinerary in a bit, I’m just–” you catch sight of your protruding hamper, innocuous but an eyesore nonetheless, right by the doorway of your humble studio unit. “I mean, I just left the condo. To do errands and stuff. I’ll send the details to you when I get back home, okay?”
“Okay, honey,” she sighs. “You stay safe outside now. Don’t talk to strangers.”
“I am a perfectly responsible adult—” The call disconnects. “Hello? Great.”
You rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes, fully aware that your day’s already started, despite your reluctance. Might as well get a head start on today’s agenda.
First thing’s first– brunch. Oh, it’s almost one. Lunch, then. I could maybe grab a hotdog from the corner store before heading to Landers. Oh wait, your laundry– gotta pass by the laundromat downstairs, too. Ugh, c’mon, chop-chop.
Just as you’re about to stand up from your supine position on the floor, another ping! pulls your attention back to your phone. “Mom, I swear–”
Ah, you’re finally awake. You’ve had a very long night, kitten. Take it easy for the day – make sure to get enough rest between errands.
I’ll know if you don’t.
Your heart skips a beat.
Oh! Um. That’s… new.
… Apparently another one on the growing list of “new features” from the latest update. It doesn't sound like an invitation for you to open the game, strangely enough. It's not a call to action to claim your daily stamina, nor a prompt for you to check your Galaxy Explorer rewards.
It’s nothing more than a greeting, really. Just one that’s particularly targeted at you, with unnerving accuracy.
You recall the weird (?) events from last night, and the now-erratic beating of your heart suddenly picks up a notch. From the unexpected dialogues to the outrageous amount of dias you’ve somehow ended up with—something you still think is some kind of glitch in the system—you can’t shake the feeling that you’re living out the plot of a Black Mirror episode, as fucking dumb as that sounds.
Not to mention during Quality Time, Sylus_v2.0 (as you so lovingly dub this version of him in your mind) had been acting more aware of you.
And you’re not talking about the pre-programmed glances that you usually get. No– it’s like he actually hears you.
He doesn’t say anything. But whenever you make a comment, or utter something under your breath, he reacts with a huff or a hum–depending on the context. If it’s a slew of expletives aimed at your boss, the reaction you’re met with is one of amusement. A snort; sometimes a quiet laugh, if you’re lucky. When you say something self-deprecating, however, it elicits the heavier sighs, the sharp clicks of the tongue.
At one point, you heard him make a low sound of dissent, something close to a... growl, almost, after making a casual joke about being just another cog in the machine and how offing yourself wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of late capitalism. As you oft do.
Your eyes met, and for a split second, it felt like you weren’t looking at just pixels. His gaze weighed heavy on you–almost accusatory.
It made you feel… naked, somehow. Perceived.
You recall how quickly you averted your eyes from his, face flushing hotly from a feeling you couldn’t put into words.
Bone-tired from last night’s (morning) overtime, you didn’t have the time to look up the news on this recent version update—although you really don’t remember any notifications in-game—so you quickly Google, “sylus acting sentient in rcent update loveamd Deepspace???” on your phone browser.
You scroll down for a bit, but none of the search results yield any relevancy, nor are they in any way similar to your current… predicament.
(Okay, so calling it a predicament is a little unfair. You’re not exactly complaining about anything per se. No complaints from you. At all.)
Deciding that you’d do a deeper dive on Twitter (X) at a later time instead – probably tonight when you do your daily login – you briefly press the side button to lock your phone… not without a final peek at the banner notification from Sylus.
You press your lips together in an effort to hold back the stupid giggle bubbling up your throat.
Unfortunately, all the self-control in the world can’t help you and your need to have the last word—from what even—so you ask aloud, to no one except the person you've deluded yourself into thinking is a valid recipient of your one-sided conversation:
“... Yeah? And what if I don’t?”
You’re not really waiting for a response (or were you?), but the nervous flutter in your stomach betrays the impatience you're trying to mask with casual indifference. It’s small, unassuming–but there.
Impatient for what, exactly, you’re not sure. But maybe, just maybe—
Feeling a bit braver now, are we? How bold. Care to say that to my face, sweetheart?
Oh.
Oh.
An inhuman noise escapes your throat, embarrassingly loud, almost a keen, and you fumble with the device in your hand; the new banner notification still in full view—taunting you.
You don’t know what to think, you don’t know how to feel. You–
Spring up, like an agitated jack-in-a-box, and the sudden rush of blood in your head leaves you dizzy. You’re a molotov cocktail of emotions; one more bombshell dropped on you and you might just blow.
“I’m– later, okay? Uh,” Whew, girl, keep it together. “I need–I need to go.” You almost stumble as you speed walk towards the bathroom.
-
-
-
If you didn’t switch your phone to silent, didn’t make the conscious effort to ignore any incoming messages, notifications, and whatever else, in a rush to get dressed and go about your day as if it's just like any other weekend–nope, nothing unusual here–you would’ve seen one last cheeky reply:
Of course, sweetie. You take care now.
Don’t talk to strangers. X
Endnote: This one's pretty short, but I’m world-building, trust.
Thanks for reading!
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads x you#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#self aware au#sylus qin
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I LOVE YOUR TITTIES BECAUSE THEY PROVE I CAN FOCUS ON TWO THINGS AT ONCE !
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pairing : bf!jungkook x reader
genre : established relationship
warnings : boobs boobs boobs BOOBS !!! massive boob kink idk everything boobs :P
request : hii, can i ask for something like my bf wont stop touching me but instead of her butt make it her breast? only if ur up to it <3
note : I FINALLY POSTED A FIC R YALL HAPPY WOOO. hope u like dis :D
unedited.
bf!jungkook who's had some sort of a hyperfixation on your tits ever since you both had sex for the first time.
he would always take the chance if it meant he'd get to look or touch your tits.
you walk around your living room with your broom as you swept the floor. jungkook was comfortably seated on the sofa, manspreading as he consumed whatever that was on the tv. you sweep around the sofa, poking the broom under the sofa to check for any trash thats possibly left under it. deciding that that wasn't enough, the place the broom carefully so that it's laid against the sofa, you get down on your knees.
this action catches your boyfriend's attention, his eyes shifting from the tv to you in the matter of a second. you don't notice though. you sit properly on your knees, slightly raising your body up a little so that you could tie your hair up in a messy bun. jungkook licks his lips, fully infatuated by you. but the moment you bend forward to peep under the sofa, that's when he loses his mind. your tits were peaking out of your shirt oh so clearly. he could see the swell of your tits and the thin layer of sweat covering them.
your boyfriend smirks, "thanks for the nice view."
your boyfriend was a little perverted. okay, a lot maybe. only for you though. he always made you wear those see through lace tank tops at home. he'd buy all the cute tank tops to make your tits look pretty and squeezed against one another. not like you minded. you loooveeedddd getting spoiled. plus, free clothes. who would say no? he would always find a way to grope your tits at any moment. but not in public though. that was weird.
jungkook's back was resting against the headboard of the bed as he typed away on his computer. some work matters, you thought. you looked at your boyfriend who was so focused on whatever document he was typing. his eyebrows were furrowed and he was also doing that thing he did whenever he was frustrated--his tongue was poking his cheek.
you slide under the covers, scooting next to your boyfriend and gently lifting his arm up so that you could go under it and lay on his lap while his arm rested on your body while typing. you do just that, your head now resting on his lap while you stared at whatever he was typing on the computer.
minutes pass by, jungkook's hand was comfortably laying on top of your clothed tits. he tapped his fingers on the fat of your right breast, mindlessly pressing onto the flesh finger by finger in a pattern. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, index finger, middle finger, ring finger—
and of course you expected it, it didn't take him any longer before he slid his hand inside to pull out your right tit. jungkook's entire hand envelopes the fat, squeezing it tightly. his touch was very warm, you didn't mind. you squirm in your spot, shifting your position once jungkook switches to your other tit, pulling out the flesh out of your top.
he had no intentions of doing anything sexual after, just wanted to fondle with your tits. maybe he'll suck them if you behaved well. but you couldn't control the growing wetness in your pussy, already wetting your panties. you mewl a little once he twists your nipple in between his fingers, and that's when he notices.
"is my girl getting horny?"
before sleep, he always made sure to give your tits a few kisses. and sometimes (most of the time), they turned into a little more.
"ah...mh, mh, hm" you hum in utter satisfaction, eyes shut while enjoying the pure bliss you're getting from your boyfriend's skillful tongue.
he swirls his tongue around your nipple, eagerly lapping on the hardened bud. jungkook's eyes never left your tits as he made out with the hardened buds, making you feel sooooo good.
"please. don't stop." you whimper out while caressing your boyfriend's hair. his hair smelt exactly like yours, since he started using your godly vanilla shampoo. you just wanted to bury your face in his hair. you massaged his scalp good, had him moaning and groaning into your tits.
he pulled back for a moment to look at his little artwork. you had his saliva all over your tits, making them glisten under the dim light in the room. jungkook spits on your tits again, then spreads it around using the tip of his tongue. it was so nasty. he licks around your areola with the very tip of his tongue, then envelopes your nipple again. he teasingly bites it, causing you to let out a small yelp. he flicks your nipple with his tongue while it was inside of his mouth and pulls away to return back with another harsh suck.
"that feel good?", his fingertips were pressed onto your waist as he smothered his face all over your tits (literally). you could feel the tip of his tongue glide all over your chest and his cheeks pressing onto the flesh of your breath. it was nasty. the saliva on your chest was no longer just there but also on his face as he hungrily inhaled your breasts in and consumed them for the full extent. he was so so so erotic.
jungkook kisses you until you run out of breath while his fingers pinched your nipples hard, twisting them with intentions of causing you pain sexually. you wince. god, you feel your body twitching. your pussy's so wet. clenching on absolutely nothing. it was so evident. the wet patch on your panties. the way your panties hugged your pussy so tightly, the slick was coating the thin material so nicely. the way it hugged your pussy drove jungkook crazy. the material was so tight that it perfectly made out the shape of your chubby pussy.
he cups your breasts with both of his hands, squeezing them till the worlds end. this was supposed to be a comforting moment where he just fondled your breasts before sleep. but now you're grinding against eachother like horny freaks.
another thing that got him so riled up was the cute gold "J" necklace he got you that you would wear. he loved the way it sat on your cleavage, right in between your breasts. he liked it even better when the cute lace tops you got him squeezed your breasts together and the sparkly J initial sat in between the soft pillows. it drove him craaaazy, actually. jungkook always made you ride him when you looked like that.
"jus' like that, baby, hm", his head was slanted against the headboard of you guys' bed, eyes dazed, but still looking at your breasts. you rode his dick till dawn, up and down, up and down.
one of your tits were out of your tight, lace see-through bra and molded into jungkook's palm. he squeezed the flesh in his palm while you made circles on his dick. his tip was hitting the exact right spot that drove you crazy, and it had you twitching on spot.
your boyfriend leans in to lick your hardened clothed nipple of the neglected breast, tugging on the nipple and wetting the lace as well. it was just a big wet smudge on your right tit.
he was like an animal when it came to fucking you. he would pull up with the nastiest ways to have you. jungkook had no shame. his hips raise upwards as he thrusted from below, overtaking your slow ass pace.
"m—mm, hah! please, so fast...!", your tongue was out, panting, and so was his. instead his was licking a stripe from all the way from your stomach, up your cleavage to your lips. he kicked your messily, both of you exchanging saliva to one another in your mouths, passing it around like a football. he tugs on your nipple, harshly pulling it and twisting the bud.
that hurt, obviously.
jungkook pulls away from the kiss and rests his back against the headboard again, still thrusting into you though. at this point both of your tits were out of your bra, jumping up and down, putting on a show for his attention.
you notice the way he moans while eyeing your tits. his eyes travel to the gold necklace in between after, the J necklace that you treasure so much.
"looks so fuckin' hot between those pretty titties. you keep this on all the time, yeah? makes you look prettier when i fuck you, babydoll." he kisses your shoulder blade, trailing kisses to your neck. wrapped around your neck was the gold chain, and jungkook lolls his tongue out to trace the metal chain. he tugs on the chain with his teeth, pulling on it with a groan.
you were getting so tired from jumping on his dick. the more you rode him, the closer you got to your release. jungkook let go of your chain, but grab hold of it this time with his hand. his palm lands two loud slaps on your asscheek, making you moan. same time, he could feel you tighten around his cock. "liked that?" you nod your head repeatedly.
jungkook tugs on the chain, pulling it backwards and then twisting it around his knuckles, choking you with the chain.
fuck, fuck, fuck. so hot.
you crack out a laugh, tongue out, panting. you were so close. so so so close. you had your tits squeezed between eachother tightly, your hands squishing the flesh as you felt the orgasm take over you. your pussy was spasming around his dick as you moan out loud, body thrown over jungkook's chest, tits pressed against his. jungkook definitely loved that feeling.
soon after you cum around him and milk his cock, he does too. his cum slips out of your contracting pussyhole.
jungkook lets out a laugh, hand patting your back and smoothing it. then he looks down from above, enjoying the birds point of view of your squished up tits and necklace in between.
he might just get hard again.
aftercare with jungkook has always been simple. you + boobs + him .
"humph, kook." you groan once you feel your boyfriend's hands squeeze your tits one more time. "bit more." he tugs on your nipple with the tip of his fingers, wiggling on his spot to find a comfortable position in the crook of your neck.
"aah, 'm so sore, baby." your voice aches through with yet another groan. "it's okay. you know it's okay." jungkook reassures.
"how about i give you a massage?" he raises his head up to look at your passed out face. "that's just another excuse for you to touch my tits..."
your boyfriend laughs, "are you complaining, though?" you shake your head with a small smile and turning on your back so that you're laying on your stomach.
jungkook slaps the fat of your ass before he begins to massage around your shoulder area. he does it soooooooooooo good though. he makes sure to press onto your bones and tightly circle around, causing you to moan in satisfaction. you enjoy his massage well until he gropes your breasts from the back, giving both of them a tight squeeze. you yelp in surprised. well, not really, you knew this was coming anyway.
he squeezes your tits and massages them well and even makes sure to give both of them equal attention.
and you both fall asleep with his head nuzzled between your tits and your hand massaging his scalp.
whenever you sucked his cock, at the end, he would always ask "where do you want it?". stupid question. there was only one answer.
jungkook's tip twitches in your mouth and he loosens his grip on your hair, a cracked moan also escaping his lips. "f—fuck, baby. you're so pretty with your lips around my fucking dick."
you flutter your eyes open, bobbing your head up and down. you feel jungkook twitch in your mouth, again. "mhm, where do you- want it?"
there was always only one answer.
you were wearing this grey oversized shirt with the thinnest material. it showed your nipples so well. dare i say jungkook got off to that as well. to answer his question, you squeeze your breast through the material and moan, mouth still filled with dick. he gets the memo and pulls his dick out of your mouth.
you cough out but quickly dismiss yourself and pull the neckline of the shirt down to expose your tits, both coated with a layer of sweat. jungkook cusses at the reveal of your breasts, fastening the speed of his wrist before he spurts his cum onto your exposed boobs.
"haaaaa. oh my god, fuck". you moan out, watching the spurts of cum land all over your breasts, some on the shirt as well as your neck. the white liquid was all over your nipples. so you make sure to rub them with both your index fingers, coating them well before bringing them to your mouth at once to taste them. you lick yourself erotically just as you did to his dick just a few seconds ago and taste your boyfriend's cum in your mouth.
"you taste so so good, baby."
and it's like jungkook's hypnotised again.
#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#bts#bts jk#bts smut#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#fanfiction#jungkook x you#bts jungkook
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could i request spencer x bombshell!reader where maybe spencer and the team meet reader’s ex boyfriend / a guy she used to be interested in and he’s sooo different from spencer so he assumes her flirting is a joke but really she never had a type until she met spencer n now she’s only into nerdy, sweater-vest wearing sweethearts <3
love ur work sm i only read spencer fics but i read all your characters bc the writing is so intoxicating !!
thank you for your request angel! <3 1k, fem
Spencer looks adorable today. You’re not sure if he knows, but that can be easily rectified.
“Spencer Reid,” you say sternly.
He’s immediately wide-eyed and sorry. “What?” he asks, pouting.
“You have some explaining to do.” You glare, taking your compact from your pocket. You open it, check your appearance, fighting a huge smile as you flick the mirror on him accusingly. “So, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“I don’t get it.” His eyes jump between the mirror and you. “Sorry?”
“You should be sorry. Do you see how nice you look today?” He rolls his eyes. “Hey, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”
You and Spencer have known each other for years now, and you love him. You’d die for him easily in the field, and out of it too, but you’re not together and he’s bad at accepting compliments, so he shrugs you off like you’re only teasing him.
“My handsome partner,” you say. Even if he isn’t your boyfriend, that’s your loophole. You and Spencer get paired for everything these days, because you’re best friends and Hotch has given up on separating you (though professionally there’s no need). “I could eat you.”
“Still mildly threatening, then,” a voice says.
You spin in your chair, shocked and a little horrified to find the last person you wanted to see here in Connecticut. “Cory!” you say, knowing he’ll believe you’re enthusiasm if nobody else.
“Hi, beautiful. You weren’t gonna call me?”
Your lips pop as you reply, “I was definitely going to, just as soon as we weren’t on the clock. How are you?” you ask, standing to receive the hug you know he’s going to give.
Cory is… well, he’s gorgeous, though that hadn’t been why you had fun with him when you were here last. He’d seemed nice enough and plainly interested in you at the time, and you’d been sort of lonely, so really he was a necessity of the soul rather than a want. Plus, he was very rich.
Gorgeous he may be, but Spencer Reid he is not. You don’t deny it to yourself —the genius behind you has completely changed your type, the kind of man you vy after, and if you’re honest, he’s the one for you. So hugging Cory and pretending you’re going to call him for drinks after the case is over isn’t easy. You lie rather than reject him.
“He seemed nice,” Spencer says in the awkward silence Cory leaves behind.
“Sure!” you say, blowing out a hot breath. “Was I embarrassing myself? I didn’t expect to see him.”
“You were the same as usual.”
You tilt your head back as the door opens again, worried it’ll be Cory back for a last word. Emily smiles at you knowingly, a bag of takeout in hand. “God, did you see that?” she asks, eyebrows rising. “He was perfect.”
“If you like the Greek god motif,” you joke.
Spencer’s frowning at his files when you turn back to him. “Spence, what’s wrong?” you ask.
“Mm? Nothing.”
“You sure?” you ask.
He maintains that he’s okay as the rest of the team flood in for lunch. You pretend to believe him, not sure what you’ve done to upset him but willing to figure it out. You unwrap his food for him and place his plastic cutlery on a napkin as you know he prefers, sorting through the cup drinks to find his diet lemonade. “Here, handsome,” you say, touching his shoulder gently as you sit down next to him.
He bristles.
“Spencer?” you ask.
He looks around the table. Hotch and Rossi are talking about something with shared smiles, while JJ and Morgan debate the case. Emily’s on her phone with a straw between her lips. They aren’t listening, and so he says, “It’s not a fitting nickname.”
“What, handsome? That’s not a nickname, it’s a pet name, and it’s true. You’re one of the most handsome guys I’ve ever seen,” —you laugh and grab his elbow when he shakes his head— “are you kidding? Spencer, you could be a model. I’ve told you this a hundred times. You have amazing cheekbones, just dreamy, and your lips–”
“Oh, god, please don’t start,” he says, covering his face with both hands. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Hotch shoots you a don’t tease look. You send him a vehement I’m not back, waiting for him to look away before you prod Spencer again. “You’re so cute, Spencer, you don’t get it.”
“I don’t wanna be cute, cute isn’t your type–”
Your eyes flare. “What would you know about my type, Spencer? Is this– is this about Cory?”
“Of course it is,” he says, face pink as he drops his hands.
“Spencer, he is not my type.”
“But you dated.”
“One date. And that was before I realised I liked dorks in sweater vests,” you say. You’re both acting like this is half a joke, a skit, in case you’re overheard, but you’re also both well aware that it’s serious and vulnerable and flustering to confess certain things right here and now. Too bad it has to be done. “I miss your glasses, babe, they really added to your charm.”
Spencer shakes his head, picking up his styrofoam boxed lunch to ignore you.
You sidle close to him, your pinky finger rubbing the slightest hint of his bare wrist. “Wanna get drinks with me tonight? I need a cover story in case Grecian Cory tracks me down. And, you know you get that really cute blush when you drink. What do you say?”
“No,” he says with a smile, which means yes in this instance.
You kiss his cheek, giggling at the lipgloss left behind. “You’re my type, handsome.”
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