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randombush3 · 2 hours ago

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te hacemos falta

alexia putellas x reader

prologue, que te quiero, busco lo de antes

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 4715

content warnings: bit of smut

notes: the end was written way before the beginning. i couldn't decide what to do with this for a while but it came to me in the shower earlier today so here we are, finally completed

there will have to be more parts to this because i'm not done yet 🙄

The duvet falls to the floor.

Swathes of tanned skin spread over your smooth legs, encapsulating, suffocating. It’s good though, so good. And it’s exploration of somewhere familiar, crevasses that she knows, divots that you wish you did. Dimples where muscle tenses and relaxes and veins that throb at the sight of… this. Oh, how she has missed this.

There’s a hunger in her eyes – desperate, ready. Her tongue is warm and wet as it slides down the valley of your breasts and your stomach and the apex of your thighs. She’s moaning, you’re moaning. It’s a cacophony of sound and pleasure and this might kill you, might just end it all, because is this what it used to be like? Blazing, fiery, passionate sex?

She sucks and bites and kisses and you’ve never been at anyone’s mercy quite like how you are at hers, back arching, legs clamping tightly until blonde hair and stars are all you can see. Her breath sears and your skin must be branded: ‘Alexia, Alexia, Alexia’ it must say. The sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears, louder than her name falling from your lips, louder than her appreciation that you are here and doing this.

It’s better than it ever has been. And it’s building. Climbing, growing more intense. Her tongue swirls your clit and it’s almost enough, your hands gripping the sheets as though that will anchor you on your ascent to Heaven. You might be screaming. She’s making you scream.

Your stomach drops as you go soaring through the sky. And then it’s gone.

“It’s a sex dream.” You look up, ignoring the heat of your cheeks, trying to remind yourself that you’re allowed to feel like this in therapy. “The same one, right?”

“I wake up sweating.”

Your therapist nods, her expression neutral and free of judgement, pen poised on her knee as she waits for your confession to settle, really making you sit in it. Then, she speaks, measured tone like always, “And when you wake up, what’s the first thing you feel?”

Her question is gentle but purposeful. She is a deliberate woman.

“Embarrassment, mostly.” She doesn’t quite buy it. “Sometimes I… get off? After?”

“Are you asking me?”

“It’s uncomfortable,” you fire back, defensively. “She’s in the next room to me. My daughter is in the same flat. I’m acting like a horny teenager.”

“Sex is biological. Your body was accustomed to the regular hormone release, a stable sex life. You’re young and you were both in high-stress professions. Is it so absurd for you to crave it?” You shake your head, although her rhetoric is clear. “And as you’ve already said, you’re attracted to Alexia, memories or not.”

“I’m not blind,” you protest. (Is it really a protest?)

Your therapist nods again, considering your words with slight amusement. “Not blind,” she repeats. She inhales. “What about the feelings that come with that attraction? Are you angry with yourself for still wanting her, even if the memories aren’t there?”

The leather sofa creaks as you shift in your seat. You briefly wonder how many people she has made want to die of discomfort in this office, but she’s pretty good, you’ll give her that. “It’s not anger,” you murmur, the tightness in your chest still constricting in its nameless fashion. “It’s… guilt, maybe? Frustration? She looks at me like I’m supposed to remember, like I’m supposed to love her the way she clearly still loves me. And I want to. God, I want to. But I feel like I’m trying to love a stranger.”

She leans forwards slightly, eyes deep and gentle, subtly glancing at the clock above the door before refocusing on your face. “You said you still feel attracted to her. That’s not nothing. Desire can be a bridge – it is for many relationships.”

You sigh, rubbing at your temples. Months have dulled the ache of your head, the physical pain of the accident now almost gone, but nothing seems to have stopped your insides from howling in anguish. It echoes in your emptiness. You’re not sure if that makes it worse. “It feels hollow. We wouldn’t have fucked for a while, not if I had Amaia – she would’ve been so young.” The clock ticks over another minute. “And she deserves more than just me physically. It would be failing. Her. Amaia.” The crack of your voice betrays the steadiness of your tone.

“She’s not asking for perfection,” your therapist says carefully. “She’s asking for effort, for honest. And if she didn’t believe in you, she’d have left, wouldn’t she?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“She wouldn’t do that to you,” she corrects.

That merits a pause. It’s true, probably. When you have concocted some kind of response, you shuffle your legs so that they are crossed, one over the other – a pose Alexia had claimed to be the signpost of being ‘lawyered’, shivering as she’d said it. “Every moment we try to connect, I mess it up. She’ll talk about something we did, some moment that was important to us, and I just sit there. Blank. It is only a matter of time until she gets fed up and leaves. She’s surely just patient.”

“From what you have told me about Alexia, she is not a patient person,” she rebukes. The harshness of her voice is not explicit, more like the piercing shot of a pistol equipped with a silencer. It makes good contact. “Have you told her how this feels for you?”

You don’t reply.

“Alexia might be holding onto the version of you from before the accident, the person she remembers,” your therapist continues. “But she’s also here, now, with this version of you. That tells me she’s willing to rebuild, even if it’s from the ground up.”

Fuck. “You have a point.”

She smirks. “Of course I do.”

…

Alexia sits at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee clasped tightly in her hands. The hum of the fridge does nothing to mask the rustling of your sheets, nor the music Amaia thinks is too quiet to be heard. No one is asleep, yet no one is together. She wants to scream.

Her coffee has long since cooled, her last sip maybe even hours ago. Time is no longer real. Time has fucked her over and she’s really renounced it.

The decorations are starting to peel their way off, the tree going brown, the batteries in the lights dying. Maybe the horror of Christmas will also be lost, and maybe that’s for the best; awkward gifts, dinners where inside jokes left you on the outside, alcohol doing nothing to jog your memories or ease you into making new ones. Amaia’s birthday also carried that same awkwardness, worse at night, when she had asked to be cuddled and you’d frozen the moment she had fallen asleep on you.

Nights suck.

Nights leave space for Alexia to remember everything you don’t, cold in a bed that isn’t hers, with no one there to hold her as tears spill out and make her feel fucking pathetic. She pretends not to notice, but Mapi’s texts get later and later each day, as though she has caught on to the worsening bags under her captain’s eyes and the dark swirl of her mind.

And at night, under the covers, all Alexia can do is picture you.

She’d felt the shift when you had come back from Bilbao. She’d seen your body tense – no stranger to its signals. It’s been a waiting game ever since.

She suspects it has something to do with Amaia. Your responsibility is unfaltering, even if you seem to not recognise it, and it is reminiscent of the first time round, when Alexia had been refused sleepovers and late nights, working with quick makeouts in daylight and steamy kisses in the five minutes you’d allow her to pull over for on your way back home. “My daughter needs me more than you do,” you’d joke, batting her hands away, grinning at the whines she’d let out. “And someone needs to teach you how to wait.”

“So many women would jump at the chance to sleep with me,” would be her instantaneous response. She’d say it to your back, because you’d already be on your way out.

Sex shouldn’t be on Alexia’s mind like this. She felt guilty about it then, and she feels even guiltier about it now.

You’re attractive. Beautiful. Intelligent. You’re more than the sound you make when she’s pressed inside you just right. Or the swears you hiss when you’re returning the favour.

You’re the words you say when you’re trying not to let Amaia down: careful, caring. And the look of support when Alexia is watching nothing ring a bell and wanting to die because of it.

And you’re still you, if not set on different tracks with different thoughts and feelings and perspectives.

You are still the woman she loves – which she knows and clings onto. And you’re braver than she is, because she would not have survived this situation.

Alexia pictures you again, when she finally gets herself into bed, hand wandering down her sculpted body, jerking away at the slightest sound like she is not allowed to be doing this. She does it anyway.

It’s a relief, a fleeting escape, and the only thing that doesn’t make her feel so fucking hollow. Briefly, the world hasn’t ended. Her fingers find familiar paths, mapped out by yours as she’d melt beneath your touch, and, for a moment, it isn’t her hand. It passes, and the pleasure is only a ghost of what it once was.

She tries again.

Her breath hitches as her mind fills with memories – your face, your voice, the sparks beneath her fingertips, the heat between the two of you. A lump grows in her throat. She has to stop.

A part of her wants to give in completely, to let the tension in her body break, to seize the satisfaction that’s right in front of her. But another part of her recoils. Guilt settles, a weight on her chest, as she thinks of your blank stare.

She pulls her hand away, her body trembling. She feels pathetic. This isn’t what it used to be. Love is too distant, too faded.

And there’s the other thing. What she doesn’t want to admit.

She can’t do it alone anymore.

She rolls over and buries her face in the pillow. This might be her breaking point. Where the fuck does she go from here?

…

To establish a sense of normalcy when your physical injuries finally get written off by your doctor, your therapist suggests you take Amaia to a football match. Obviously Alexia’s match. WIth her tickets. And her mother.

Although Amaia looks like you, there is so much of Alexia in her. Her enthusiasm, her dedication, and… her love for football. You imagine they must have killed you with their obsession with kicking a ball into a net. They tend to not talk about it now, most family dinners casting a glance backwards to catch you up about the last decade.

She is radiating excitement beside you as you take your seats.

The stadium roars as fans pour in, a sea of blaugrana that your daughter slips into, donning her jersey with pride. You wince a bit at the sight, but Amaia is quick to whisper that she doesn’t wear it when Barça plays Bilbao. She speaks with such familiarity. She hardly lets on that her mother doesn’t know who she is.

Alexia’s own mother, Eli, is a very nice woman. You once employed her, which is how you and Alexia met. You get why she was a good fit – wise, reliable, kind. You also get why she managed to set you up with her daughter. Eli can apparently see right through you.

Thankfully, she says nothing during the match, the buffer of Amaia actually working.

You had glanced at the news before, stuff with Alexia’s name in it always catching your attention, and, of course, you’d admired a few photos. But it doesn’t compare to the real thing.

Since September, Alexia has fumbled her way around you, cautious and unsure. On the pitch, she is the opposite. Determined, commanding, majestic and she swerves and dribbles and takes out players left, right, and centre. She seems to read the future, apprehending attacks, anticipating defensive lines and destroying them before they can even be formed. This passion, this intensity… this is the woman you must have fallen in love with. You’ve been getting to know a shell of her.

You get a lot of things now. (You should’ve let your therapist convince you to attend a match way sooner.)

The final whistle blows and you feel transformed. Not reformed, but, rather, made anew. A butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

Okay. No. Maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.

But right now, as a sweaty Alexia jumps the barrier and sweeps Amaia into her arms effortlessly, you are certainly less resistant to experiencing your recurring dream again. Something guilty ebbs and flows at the back of your mind, but if it were the ocean, it would very much be low tide.

Her eyes are fixed on you as Amaia recounts the match with her own analysis like a mini-manager ready to sit down and review the footage. Her mother clears her throat once silence settles between the four of you.

“Mama, we’re getting dinner,” comes the next spoken sentence. Not from Eli.

You blink.

“Alexia,” Amaia repeats, tugging her arm. “Dinner.”

“Zer esan duzu?” you mutter under your breath, accessing the private form of communication you have with your daughter like it is the Washington-to-Moscow hotline. It’s often too constrictive, too close, to Amaia for comfort – you’re not quite there yet, no matter how much effort you put into trying to bond with her.

You’re not dignified by a response, instead met with an uninterested eye-roll (the cheek!) and commotion as everyone starts to move. Well, half the party. Eli kindly lets Amaia drag her away.

“Did you enjoy the match?” Alexia asks awkwardly, waiting for you to pick your bag up from the concrete floor. She stops herself from getting it for you when you grimace, still getting used to the tightness that will always remain in your ribs. She knows you’d hate that.

“I don’t like football,” you say, because her hair is wet and falling over her face, and her neck is flushed, and her kit is sticking to her in a very flattering way. And you walk past her because you’re probably not going to get this relationship back.

Your therapist does most of the talking in the next session. Internally, she is screaming.

…

Sticky glue on clean fingers. Amaia grimaces. She prefers the mess of mud to glitter and paint, but the black pages of the scrapbook are almost full and her end goal makes it worth it.

Alexia asks what she does in her room that keeps her so quiet, her voice laced with curiosity and that same exhaustion she hasn’t been able to shed since the accident. Alexia, with no answer given, probably assumes it’s reading, or homework, or some other thing that elevates her to saintly status – Oh, Amaia, aren’t you just so special.

Special girls wouldn’t have been forgotten by their mothers… No. Amaia believes she should not digress.

The scrapbook is her cure. Or at least, what she has convinced herself will help you, because she is a little girl and what would she know about ground-breaking neurological treatments and the effectiveness of a good psychiatrist? She sees the appointments listed in the calendar Alexia keeps on the dining table – an illicit activity only undertaken when no one seems to be ready to take her to training and she worries she has gotten the time incorrect – but they are just abbreviations and addresses to her. Pictures are real. Pictures cannot be cancelled or argued about or scheduled on top of school concerts and meetings with her concerned teachers.

It was difficult at first, finding the pictures. There were only so many on the iPad you let her borrow – then subsequently forgot about and allowed her to claim. She’d asked Eli for help (Eli would never reveal her secret mission), who told her about something called a disposable camera and then proceeded to go off on a tangent, showing photos of Alexia when she was a baby. But, eventually, when photo-Alexia had reached adulthood, Eli agreed to participate and the next time they convened, she had an envelope of at least three more pages’ worth of material.

And so they got to work.

Pages upon pages were slowly decorated with lost memories. Birthdays, holidays, first-times, last-times. If there was a photo of it, in it went. Afternoons in Eli’s kitchen were spent with gel pens and scissors, mornings before school dwindling in length as nights got later and alarms began to be snoozed.

You don’t know what to say when one day, red-cheeked from the exhaustion of the extra goalie sessions, Amaia barrels into the car with exciting news. You’ve been privy to this news, you think, because the coaches have already messaged you about trial dates for better teams (teams that wear blaugrana, to Alexia’s satisfaction), even if the Infantil-Cadet begins at the age of twelve. “I’m so proud of you, txiki,” you begin, before Amaia can speak, your joy bursting at the seams, barely contained in your voice. Affection for her has certainly been something you’ve mustered, even if it has grown from a seed all over again. She is not hard to love. “Alexia has been speaking to Cata and she is going to find time to give you some tips! The girls will be older and you’ll have to work with more powerful shots, more precision.” You’d had a conversation with your footballer (things are still awkward but Amaia is in no-man’s-land and requires civility), who had been monitoring this inevitable progression in Amaia’s life and already had an argument prepared for why she should be allowed to trial. Maybe in another universe, you would have said no. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be too much of a challenge for you.”

You turn to watch for Amaia’s reaction, expecting elation or nervousness or something like that. Instead, you are met with confusion. “What’s wrong?” There’s nothing else to ask.

“That wasn’t my news,” she states. The glimmer in her eyes – your father’s eyes – illuminates the cracks in her serious expression. “You’re going to like my news more, Amatxu. It’s not to do with football. You don’t even like football.”

“I like football,” you instantly argue, indignantly mentioning Athletic Bilbao’s recent victory.

“You didn’t before.” She’s somewhat insistent. She reminds you of Alexia, the way her smile is barely contained, her amusement too obvious, too profound. “When we used to go to Alexia’s matches, you’d just stare at her. And I would say ‘Amatxu, the ball is on the right wing’, and you’d still be watching her.”

“I don’t like football.”

“You like it when Alexia’s playing.”

You huff in annoyance. You’ve been… lawyered? By a child. “Tell me your news, Ami.”

“You stopped calling me that,” she points out.

“Alexia told me you like being called that.” Or, rather, implied it.

“By my mum.”

“I’m your mum.” Amaia looks almost prepared to disagree, which stings but in a familiar way that your therapist tells you is a part of healing. Therapy might still be a scam. “Tell me your news, Amaia.”

“I like Ami.” The car may swerve a little, but then you see darkness and hear screaming and your hands are tightly gripping the wheel again. “My news! Yes, my news. I have a present for you. I’ve been waiting to give it to you for a long time.”

That’s all you get until you arrive home.

Alexia is making dinner, the smell of tomatoes and garlic wafting down the hallway as the lift doors swoosh open. She’s listening to music – happy music – and there are rhythmic thuds against the floor. You’re surprised Alexia knows how to dance.

Her hips sway at the stove, grey joggers outlining toned legs and… Your daughter is right beside you. You blink and hope those thoughts disappear.

“Ami!” Alexia exclaims at the telltale sound of pitter-pattering. The spoon drops from her hand, stirring be damned, as she swipes the girl into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “How was training?”

“Seré la nova portera del Barça.” The excitement is infectious as Alexia lifts her slightly off the ground with the force of her hug. It’s immediately warmer, the room filled now that they are together. You try to feel included. The sight momentarily plucks a string somewhere deep inside of you, but before it vibrates, Amaia throws a glance back at you, her cheeky smirk a reminder that she is still hogging her news.

Alexia sets Amaia down gently, wiping her hands on the teatowel slung over her broad shoulders. “What’s that face for?” she asks, raising a curious brow as the girl slips out her grasp and scurries towards the dining table, schoolbag in tow.

You linger by the worktop, trying to work past the need to hide from Alexia and failing miserably. Amaia unpacks her bag – ludicrously capacious and stuffed to the brim with art supplies that make you question why you are paying school fees. “I’ve been working on something,” she announces, her voice just shy of a triumphant proclamation. Out comes a spiral-bound book, decorated like a unicorn ate a rainbow and then had diarrhoea. She’s eleven, you suppose.

Then she opens the book and you regret judging it by its cover.

She flips past pages filled with images that hitch your breath. Holidays you don’t remember. Birthdays lost to the void that exists between then and now.

“What is this?” you ask softly, stepping closer despite yourself.

Amaia looks up at you, her expression both shy and proud. “It’s for you.”

The slosh of sauce being stirred stops abruptly. You try not to look, but Alexia is leaning towards the table for a better view, bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes deepen and her chest grows heavier.

Undeterred by the silence, Amaia continues fervently, “I’ve been making it for months.” She pulls the scrapbook close to her chest for a moment, before offering it to you with both hands, glitter floating to the floor. “It’s so you won’t forget anything anymore.”

You freeze. The walls are touching your sides, too small. Alexia is watching you for your reaction. “Forget?” you echo faintly, hands trembling as they reach for the book.

Amaia tilts her head, innocence piercing and painful. “Like how you forgot my birthday. Or, like, didn’t know it was.”

The air is knocked clean out of your lungs. For a moment, you can’t move. You can’t breathe. Alexia’s eyes dart between the two of you, her jaw tightening as she grips the worktop. You know she wants to jump in, wants to soften the blow, but she doesn’t. Not yet.

Amaia keeps going, her voice steadily reporting shortcomings like bombs she doesn’t know can kill. “I know you didn’t mean to. And I know that you don’t remember things because you hit your head really badly. So you don’t remember my first football practice, or when we used to go to the beach. So… I made this!”

She flips the pages for you, her tiny fingers smudged with gel pen ink. “Here’s the picture from when we went to New Zealand and Alexia won the world cup.” You’ve seen that one before. She turns the page, “And this,” a small, faded photograph with fridge-worn edges, “is from when I won my first school race. This is in London, see?” She’s grinning widely, front tooth missing, a green field behind her with a grey sky that is certainly not Barcelona.

Your throat tightens. You can’t look away from the book, each page a kaleidoscope of colours and slipped-away moments. Drowned memories that have sunken into a trench of blackness – still there, just unrecoverable. “Amaia…” Your voice cracks. You might break.

Alexia moves quietly, reaching a hand out to your back before steadying it centimetres away. Her warmth is felt only for a second before she remembers herself and moves away. “This is what you’ve been doing,” she deduces, her surprise comforting. For once, you were not the only one in the dark.

Amaia beams but she is not looking at Alexia. “I told you you’d like it,” she says. You’ve not given your opinion yet. “Now you’ll never forget again, not even if you want to.”

Silence presses down on the room, save for the gentle bubbling of the tomato sauce on the stove. You clutch the scrapbook tightly, afraid that dropping it will send the wrong message. It’s not perfectly made – far from it. The edges are uneven, the colour clashing in some places, the glue smeared in translucent stains past photos. But it’s beautiful. It's yours, from Amaia. It is her love for you.

Tears pinch in your eyes. “I don’t deserve this,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Amaia frowns, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Of course you do. Zu zara nire ama.”

Your skin bristles as Alexia moves past you, hand resting on the worktop. “You do,” she agrees. She seems to want to say more, but Amaia, satisfied with her convincing, turns back to the scrapbook, taking it from your hands and opening it to the very last page.

“This one’s my favourite.”

The final page is a drawing, not a photograph. It’s sketched carefully, although a little garishly done in neon green, but it’s unmistakable. Three figures stand together, arms linked. Surrounding them are words (Catalan words, you think) and images. Alexia’s hand presses harder into the worktop.

“Alexia says Barça is the best team in the world,” Amaia starts smugly, “but she’s not right.” A grunt of disagreement comes from the woman beside you, but she allows the girl to continue. “We are.”

The words fall from her lips like a statistic, indisputable yet hard to believe.

“We’re like a football team, to help Alexia understand,” she then says with a smirk. “Badakit ez duzula gehiago behar, Ama. Oso adimentsua zara.”

“I’m not stupid,” grumbles Alexia.

She’s ignored. “You are the attack, Ama. You’re, like, the glamourous one, the one everyone wants to be like, with glory and success and shiny trophies.” You’ve seen Alexia’s trophies, but you don’t argue, assuming it will be pointless when your daughter can be so stubborn. “And then Alexia is in the middle. Attack and defence are a pair, but it’s not right to have them on a pitch without the midfield. It’s never as seamless. The team would be incomplete.” You pause to consider if Alexia is ever afraid of being loved by Amaia. She’d have had no reason to be. “Of course, I am in goal. Nothing slips through me, even if it’s really scary and the ball is coming fast. I make sure we don’t lose.”

Your breath catches. Something inside you shifts, not the fragments left by Alexia’s football match a few weeks ago, but a new part of this new life. A root in fertile soil. “Thank you,” you murmur, pulling Amaia into a tight hug. She tenses at first, almost shocked by it, but then she is relaxing and hugging you back, face buried in your clothes as though it is what coming home feels like. “I love it. I love you.”

Alexia watches, her expression softening as she steps back towards the stove. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she announces, giving you both a moment to breathe.

Amaia pulls back, her grin wide and triumphant. “I told you you’d like my news.” She pauses, glancing slyly at Alexia. “Much better than football, right?”

The woman’s laugh is warm and free. You want to bottle it. “Careful, nena. You’re about to lose your biggest cheerleader.”

“Never!” shouts Amaia, before leaning back into you. And for the first time since the accident, part of you is at home.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso smut #randombush3 #rm universe

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billiesguitar · 3 days ago

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

other girls

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Smut,Dom!billie,cursing,eating out,fingering

"Long time no see, hm baby?" I feel her arms slide around my waist and her breath tickles the back of my neck as she places her head on my shoulder. Billie looks up at the girl I'd been talking to this whole party and smiles sweetly.

"Billie," I smile back, trying to keep my voice from giving away my anger, she always does this, leaves and talks to whoever she wants, reminding me of our friends with benefits agreement but gets angry when I talk to other girls. though she's so beautiful tonight. She's wearing this black suit that hugs her curves in all the right places, making my stomach flutter.

"So sorry I've been busy," she says, then glaces at the girl, "thanks for keeping my girl company."

The girl blushes and quickly excuses herself, leaving Billie and me standing there awkwardly.

"Why are you talking to her?" Billie's voice is low, almost a growl.

"I can talk to however I want. I'm not your girlfriend, Billie." I reply, trying to keep the edge out of my tone.

"No, but you're mine," she whispers into my ear.

Her hands are on my hips now, turning me to face her. I can't help but look into her piercing blue eyes. "Friends with benefits, remember?" I remind her, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I do. But I don't like sharing." She says, her grip tightening.

"What do you mean by that?"

Her gaze is intense, and for a second, I think she's going to kiss me right here in front of everyone. But instead, she takes my hand and leads me through the crowd. "Follow me."

We push through the throng of people, the bass of the music vibrating through my chest, until we reach the bathroom. She locks the door behind us and turns to face me.

"I want you," she says simply. "Now."

The sudden aggression in her voice sends a thrill down my spine, and I know exactly what she means. I nod, my heart racing.

Without another word, she grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it up, bunching it up around my waist. "I should bend you over that counter and fuck you into oblivion," Billie get on her knees and parts my legs, her grip firm on my thighs, "but I'm not gonna do that."

"Why not?" I ask breathlessly, feeling a little disappointed.

"Because I want everyone to hear how much you want me," she says with a smirk, "and I want them to know exactly who you belong to."

Billie tugs my underwhere down and drapes my leg over her shoulder. She kisses my inner thigh, her hot breath sending shivers down to my core. "You're mine, aren't you?" she asks, looking up at me.

"Yes," I murmur, feeling my body responding to her dominance.

"Good."

Her mouth moves to my core, and she starts to kiss and nibble lightly before bringing in her fingers. They're gentle at first, but she quickly picks up the pace, making me gasp. Her tongue swirls around my clit, and she adds a second finger, pushing into me without mercy.

"Billie," I moan, my hand on the cool porcelain of the sink to steady myself.

"That's right," she murmurs, her voice a bit low, "let them all know."

The bathroom echoes with the sound of my moans, and I can't help but wonder if anyone outside can hear. It's so wrong, but so hot.

"I want to hear you,baby." she says, her voice muffled by my legs

And with that, she sucks harder, her tongue flicking my sensitive bud. My legs start to shake as the pleasure builds inside me.

"Oh god," I whisper, leaning back against the sink and I tug slightly on her hair.

Her response is to push in a third finger, stretching me and filling me up completely. I feel so vulnerable like this, exposed and at her mercy. But I love it.

"Billie," I call out louder, "please, don't stop."

"m'not gonna baby," she coos, "don't you worry"

I can feel my climax approaching, and I'm so close. "I'm gonna come," I whimper.

"That's it," she encourages, her tongue never leaving my clit.

The orgasm hits me like a wave, making my knees buckle. Billie holds me up, her mouth still working me through the aftershocks. She pulls away and looks up at me with a satisfied smirk.

"now, can other girls make you cum like this?"

#billie eilish #billie eilish smut #billie ellish lyrics #hit me hard and soft #hmhas billie eilish #billie eilish fluff

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vivirtualangel · 2 days ago

Text

First Time

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pairing: cedric diggory x m!reader

genre: fluff, smut, romance

warnings: top!Cedric, bottom!reader, dom! Cedric, sub!reader, a lot of kissing

summary: you and your boyfriend, Cedric, sneak out of class to make out and have your first times together

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Your boyfriend drags you by the hand, racing up the moving stairs to sneak you into the Hufflepuff common room. The two of you skipped your herbology class, knowing the room would be empty, all of the other students in class.

He brings you over to his dormitory, taking off his robe, leaving him in his white button up and tie, and he sits on the bed. You take a moment to observe the space that your other half occupies when he's, unfortunately, not with you. You take note of the books on the nightstand, where his clothes lay, and the green blanket on his bed that doesn't match the Hufflepuff-colored room.

"What are you doing, babe?" he smirks out, pulling you close to him by the arm and bringing you into a quick smooch. You pull back, and, a mere inch away from his face, stare Cedric in his eyes, smiling and giggling almost like a lunatic, because you cannot believe that the Heartthrob of Hogwarts is who you - and only you - call your boyfriend.

"What's so funny?" he asks in response to your giggle, matching grin forming on his face.

"I just love you so much" you reply, pushing yourself forward to greet him in a wet, sloppy tongue kiss. Your saliva mixes, tongues collide as you press him against the window behind his headboard. It's a good thing that the common rooms are so high up, or else someone would be able to see the two of you from outside. Not that either of you would've minded that, though.

You passionately kiss for a few minutes, only stopping to breathe before you break away. Cedric looks at you with big, wet, puppy dog eyes, like he desperately needs more. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off when you begin to nape and suck on his neck, forcing a sort of moan out of the taller man. You pull back, revealing a tender, bright red hickey on your boyfriend's neck.

Turning around, you slump down and rest your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, ridiculously smiling at the fact that you've marked him for everyone to see tomorrow, when suddenly you catch Cedric adjusting the waistband of his pants.

"I saw that!" you exclaim, half-joking. "Are you seriously hard right now, you perv?"

"I, um... maybe?" He responds, turning beet red from embarrassment. "You're just so hot and so good at kissing, I can't help it..."

"Well then..." you reply, sliding your hand up his shirt to rub his toned abdominal. "Maybe," you turn your head and lightly kiss his jawline, "maybe it's time we do it... make love".

Cedric turns his body so your faces are opposite another and gently places his hands behind your head to pull you into a kiss. "Are you sure? Are you ready?"

"Of course, babe," you reply. The truth is, internally you're desperate to make this step. After almost a year of dating, the two of you had never gone past giving eachother handys in the bathroom or occasionally sucking one another off if you were ever able to sneak off for half an hour. "I'm ready if you are."

"It's just... I don't really know what to do. I've never done it with a boy. Or anyone, really." He looks down, almost ashamed, and you cup the brunette's face. "It's okay, me neither. We can figure it out together."

He smiles, and puts a hand around your neck, pulling you in to a sloppy kiss. With your eyes closed, you begin to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, mildly struggling because you've overtaken by the make-out session. Cedric grabs you by the waist, sitting you on top of his lap, without breaking the kiss, and begins to undress you from your shirt as well. The two of you, shirtless, continue making out, your tongues dancing, while you begin to grind on your boyfriend's still-clothed crotch, causing him to break away and let out a stifled moan.

"Fuck, baby," he says between moans. "I need you so bad."

"Say less," you respond, moving your kisses down his sternum, to his chest, and taking the time to kiss around his pink nipples, all the while you're unbuckling his belt. He throws his head back, wincing at the pleasure as you kiss his toned body and pull down his trousers and underpants, revealing his rock-hard cock. You grip his cock, which was around 7 inches and thick, the perfect size, at the base and lick the underside of it, circling the head with your tongue.

"Fuuuuckkkkk-" he moaned, gripping your hair but not pulling.

You felt him stiffen up more as you put his tip in your mouth and begin slowly throating his length. With every motion, you feel his balls twitch, and he whimpers at a whispering volume. You knew he was close, and were determined to egg him on as long as possible. You begin to stroke his wet, saliva-covered cock, flicking your wrist at the tip when you come across it. Cedric starts moaning heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hips thrusting into your hand. You feel his cock pulse and twitch, desperate to cum, and remove your hand, ruining his orgasm.

"Babe, fuck, I-" You cut him off. "You can't cum until you fuck me, baby." Cedric, with puppy dog eyes, pleads: "Baby can I please fuck you now?"

"Not yet," you say, crawling up to him to leave a kiss on his cheek, "I need you to prep me first." "Prep?" He asks inquisitively. "I'm not a girl, you can't just stick it in with no preparation."

"I see..." he says, grabbing you in the crevice of your armpits. "May I?" You nod and he flips you over, so you are on your back and your head is towards the foot of the bed. Cedric sucks on his fingers, coating them with clear, thick saliva. His cold fingers make contact with the outside of your hole, causing you to wince and tense up. Slowly, he pushes his middle finger inside of you, making your back arch. He romantically shoves it in and out of you before sticking another in and making a scissor motion to loosen you up. Eventually, he presses up against your g-spot, causing you to release a loud echo-y moan. "There, baby? Does that feel good?" the brunette asks seductively. Overcome by a feeling of pleasure, the most you can stifle out is a "mmmfgh, y-yes, baby, m-more..."

Cedric continues fingering you, your own cock becoming the hardest it has ever been and leaking a large amount of precum. You reach down and grip his other hand, which has been resting near the side of your body on the bed, and arch tour back as you feel your climax about to occur. But, your boyfriend pulls his fingers out before you can and slides up to your ear- "You can't cum until I fuck you, remember?"

You let out a moan as he kisses you and begins to position himself on top of you, making eye contact with you the entire time, only turning you on more.

Suddenly, you're brought back to the day he started to call you his. It was after the Triwizard Tournament, and, although Cedric had not won, he made it out alive. You had spent the duration of the tournament helping him figure out the challenges present, cheering him on when he fought the dragon, you being the one who had suggested he take a bath when he couldn't figure out the enigmatic egg. You spent time in the library trying to find a spell book that could help him figure out a way to breathe underwater, and you hyped him up before the final challenge.

A week or so following the end of the tournament, Cedric dragged you out of dinner to talk privately in the hallway.

"Is everything okay?" you said, with genuine concern in your tone. As much as you liked him, he was your friend first and you were focused on making sure he was okay, because that's what friends are for.

"Listen," he said, "ever since the tournament ended I haven't been able to- I keep having dre-" he sighs, unable to say what he wants to. "I keep thinking, what if had been you under the water during the second challenge instead of Cho?"

"It wasnt though. But what-"

"Not the point," he cuts you off. "And whenever I would think that I would get this weird feeling in my stomach and I just-" He loosens his necktie like there's something obstructing his airway. "I just realized it means-"

"What, Cedric? What are you-"

He cut you off by grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your mouth to meet his. "It means that I like you, y/n, like, a lot," he says retracting. "And I don't know what- I've just never felt this way about a boy before." His cheeks were flushed rose, Cedric clearly feeling somewhat embarrassed.

You pulled him into a warm embrace, rubbing his back. "It's okay. I like you too, like, a lot" you say, playfully mocking him.

"Really?" he said, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Does that mean... do you wanna... would you be my boyfriend?"

"Of course," you said, pulling him out from the hug. "We should head back to dinner now, people are probably starting to worry, boyfriend." You put an arm around his shoulder and walked back to the dining hall, a big toothy grin on your face, his cheeks redder than they've ever been.

And now, you two were here, you laying on your back, in his bed, your boyfriend hovering above you, his necklaces drooping over your neck, the tip of his cock poking at the entrance of your hole.

"Are you ready?" he asks, stroking the hair by your ear. "Always," you respond. He grabs the base of his cock and slides it inside of you, him letting our a satisfied grunt and you a muffled moan. Slowly but surely, he pushes himself in and out of you, hips colliding with your ass repeatedly. He lowers himself down and starts to kiss you as he fucks you, the both of you moaning into each other's mouths. His hand rests on yours and you grip it, holding eachothers hands passionately as he fucks you.

Suddenly, you let go and arch your back, as his cock pushes against your g-spot. You let out a long moan, and he begins to leave a hickey on your neck. The pleasure feels so good, you can feel your hole tighten around his big dick, making him harder. Cedric stops sucking on your neck and starts heavily breathing into your jaw, letting you know he's close. He continues pounding inside of you, brushing against your prostate while your own cock stiffens and twitches. "Cedric- I'm-" Unable to get the words out, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tap on his back to announce your climax. You let out a grunt as ropes of white cum plait your chest, your hole tirelessly convulsing and tightening, which only helps him get closer too. With one last pump, he whimpers into your ear and his cock twitches, releasing a huge, hot load inside of you.

"Holy shit, babe." He says, pulling out and laying next to you. "That was the best I've ever felt." He pulls you towards him and whispers in your ear: "I love you."

"I love you too," you say, taking it all in before the two of you eventually have to clean up and return to your daily activities.

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a/n: hi guys i've actually developed such a huge celebrity crush on Cedric/Robert Pattinson in general it's generally starting to negatively affect me but this man is so mf FINE! i hope you enjoy this one, it's been my favorite out of all the ones i've written (incl. drafts) 😇 lmk if you like it, leave a follow, + as always suggest more fic ideas!

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the-guppy-fish · 3 days ago

Text

And they were roommates.

Roommate!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: What's it like? Living with one of your fellow teammates? It's very nice.

Tags: Roommates, (lovers), secrets, secret fwb, domesticity, friends that kiss, PinV, no mention of protection (wrap it up irl!), smut.

MDNI 18+

Slightly proofread.

No one knew. Simon and you shared an apartment outside of the base. It was just easier, cheaper and quite nice for the both of you. No one had to know because no one ever asked where either you lived.

Through working side by side, sleeping in barracks, and completing missions together, you knew that you worked well with one another. So living together would naturally be easy for you.

Simon enjoyed coming home to a warm, homey apartment. Fridge full of all the different food you both enjoyed. Your jackets and shoes littering the entrance. Living room cosy with plush pillows and blankets on the couch, he himself would never consider bying.

You enjoyed not living by yourself. His clothes filling the shared laundry basket, and Simon washing your combined laundry to save on the water bill. You enjoyed his tidyness and cooking skills. His delicious meals after a long day were a soothing comfort to you.

He enjoyed the quiet drive home after work, late at night long after all your colleagues had gone home. You sat next to him in the car, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. He enjoyed the slow weekends at home. Evenings spent on the couch watching whatever series you had picked. He enjoyed how domestic you had become around each other. How on those slow nights he warmed your cold feet, resting in his lap.

You enjoyed the days when Simon came home later than you, and you had fallen asleep on the couch. He would press his lips to your forehead, lifting you up and carrying you to your bed.

Simon enjoyed when you were both in the kitchen, helping each other prepare dinner and putting away newly bought groceries. How your hands would touch his back, his waist, his arms whenever you slid past him, as not to startle him.

But most of all, he enjoyed the times when he heard your bare feet pad over the hardwood floors at night. When the door to his room opened slowly, revealing you huddled up in your pyjamas and a fluffy blanket.

You would close the door silently and crawl under his duvet, snuggle up close to him, and wrap your arms around his broad torso.

His arms would wind around you, pull you close to him. His nose nussled into your hair, the sweet scent of your shampoo comforting him.

"Can't sleep, lovie?" His voice tired and low.

Your head nodded into his chest. "Yeah, I just can't seem to relax."

"Is tha' so?" He pulled the duvet tighter around you, enveloping you in the plush cover. You nodded again, hands gripping the firm muscles of his back.

"D' you need me to help you relax?" You let out a sigh and nodded again.

"Please, Simon." He groaned lowly and pulled you to lay underneath him. He spread your legs and settled between your thighs, his hips opening you further.

Caged under him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Kissing you slowly, dragging out each movement of his lips. You sucked his lower lip between your teeth, nipping at the soft, wet skin.

He groaned into your mouth and ground his hips into your pyjama clad core. You moaned, and he let his tongue slip into your mouth, swirling it around, dancing around your own tongue. As you made out, his hips began thrusting into yours. His fingers tangled in your hair, and he groaned into you.

The feeling of him so close to you made wetness seep into your underwear. While he thrusted into you, you felt his half-hard cock grow harder and harder against you.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, lips separating with a smooching sound. You whined at the loss of his hot lips, and he shushed you.

"Let's get these off. Let me feel how wet you are for me." His fingers pried off your pants and underwear, pulling the soft fabric down your legs and letting it fall to the floor. Next, his sweatpants followed, falling to the floor with a thud.

He returned to settle back in between your thighs. "Let me in, love." The head of his cock nudged at your soaked cunt. His hand wrapped around the girthy base, and moved the head up and down your slit. The wetness coated him, smearing all over your lips.

"Si, please." You sounded needy, your fingers wrapping around his neck, keeping his face close to yours.

He touched his forehead to yours and slowly slid inside you. The thick girth of his cock stretching you deliciously. His movements were slow, cautious. He hadn't fingered you first, so he had to work you up slowly. Your wetness helped tremendously, his cock sliding easily in and out of you.

"Fuck Simon. You feel so good." Your nails dug into his neck, your lips searching for his in a hot kiss. He kissed you deeply as he began fucking you at a steady pace.

The squelching sound of your arousal made his head spin. It spurred him on to pound into you harder.

"Ah, lovie. Raise your legs for me." Simon pulled back to let your legs lift up. He almost folded you in haft, pushing your thighs close to your chest. His large hands pushed into the back of your thighs, keeping them in place.

His pace sped up, and the new position made him reach even deeper inside your sopping cunt. Juices leaking out of you, coating his shaft and dripping down his balls.

You almost wailed at the deeper intrusion, loud moans filling the room. The hard pace made your hands flail for any place to find steady ground. They ended up at the head of his bed, fingers clenching the pillow under your head.

Simon was a moaning mess as well. Deep grunts and moans spilt from his throat above you. Slowly, a tight knot inside you began to form, your release building up. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as Simons hand left your thigh to pinch your clit. The sudden stimulation making you moan his name out loud.

"That's it, sweet girl. You take my cock so well. Clenching me so tight. You're doing so well for me."

Your senses began to overflow: his sweet, dirty words in your ears; his hand holding your thigh and fingers swirling around your clit at a feverish pace; his thick cock stretching your walls and filling you to the brim; your juices leaking down the cleft of your cheeks. It was all coming together in a blinding symphony of stimulation. You were so, so close. You just needed a little more.

Simon leaned down, pressing your thighs impossibly closer to your chest. Your tits squished under the soft plush of your thighs, hidden beneath a large shirt, that said "RILEY" on the back.

His lips found yours, kissing you feverishly, sloppily. His tongue invaded your mouth, claimed the space. Teeth nipped at your lips.

He leaned back to search for your blissed out eyes.

"Come for me, love. Cream on my cock" The rough rasps of his voice sent you over the edge. Muscles tensing up, clenching his cock for dear life. He let out a loud groan as he spilt his load inside you. You cunt clenched over and over, squeezing his cock again and again. The soaring pleasure filled you veins and spread like a comfortable heat throughout your body. His lips came down to kiss you again. This time, much softer, much more gentle.

Almost lovingly.

Slowly, his thrusts subsided. Movements halting as he almost collapsed on top of you. Breathing hard and fast.

Once you had come down, he unfolded you. Kissing parts of your body in the process.

" 'm gonna get you a washcloth, hang on a second."

Simon pushed himself off the mattress and disappeared into your shared bathroom, returning with a damp cloth.

Ever so gently, he cleaned both of you and went back to throw the cloth in the laundry basket.

He came back and crawled under the duvet, like you had done not so long ago. He settled on his side, face to face with you in the dark. His hand slid over your side and settled on your waist. The other snaked under your head, acting as your plush pillow.

Sleep came fast to you now, eyelids heavy and pulse calm. Your nose nussled into his muscular chest, his scent filling your lungs, calming you.

In the darkness, you heard Simon whisper.

"Good night, lovie."

You whispered back, the sound getting muffled by his chest. "Good night, Si."

Simon had quickly come to the conclusion that he really liked living with you.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #and they were roommates #task force 141

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babyonboard · 1 day ago

Text

Ultraviolence | part 2

Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake Seresin

click here to read part 1!

Summary: You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake Seresin was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no kind to. At least that’s how it used to be.

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, infidelity, Bradley sucks, angst, smut, oral, choking, Jake Seresin has a praise kink because I said so, a little redhead slander (I am so sorry if you’re ginger).

Announcement: Yes I know part one came out a year ago. Yes I know nobody cares anymore. I want to get back into writing again and this has been sitting in my drafts for so long.

It had been 2 weeks, and you hadn’t confronted Bradley. But, in terms of how he’s been treating you, it’s been paradise. Things were back to how they used to be, or at least that's how it looked on the surface. You wondered if the girl he was cheating with is still in the picture or not. You wondered about her a lot. It was really hard to not think about her. In fact, you thought about her so much that you had a clear picture of what you thought she looked like in your mind. Of course, she’s blonde. Shiny, silky, long blonde hair. She’s slightly shorter than you, with a slightly better figure. Her tits were bigger than yours, and her stomach is flatter. She had a bright white smile and a bubbly personality.

You hated her. But you also felt sorry for her.

Jake had been literally blowing up your phone. He called and texted you so many times. You responded at first, saying you hadn’t confronted Bradley yet, but you were going to. He asked you every day after that if you had done it yet, and you never responded. The only other text you responded to was when he said he was worried that something happened and you needed help. It was embarrassing, that’s the real reason you didn’t want to talk to him. It was embarrassing that you were prioritizing guilty attention over your own self respect.

One day when Bradley got home from work, he was pissed. “What’s wrong, baby?” You asked from the couch as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hangman’s just the same fucking dick he’s always been.” He mumbled.

At this point, you were all ears. “What’d he do?” You set your book down on your chest..

He shook his head. “Always in everyones fucking business.” He grumbled and went into the kitchen.

Interesting. You pulled your phone out and went to text Jake to ask him what he did, but when you opened his contact, you saw that he had texted you this morning and you didn’t see it.

Since you’re not gonna call him on it, I will.

On your day off, Bradley asked if you could bring his laptop to work because he forgot it. Of course, you eagerly got in the car and drove it to him. When you entered the office building on the base, you tried to remember your way around. And because you fucking deserve it, because of some kind of weird karma from the universe, Jake was the first person you saw.

“Hey.” He said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. You half smiled and gave him a nod, hoping that was the end of the interaction. It wasn’t.

He came closer to you, ducking his head like he was trying to be secretive. “Can I talk to you?” He said softly. His presence made you want to break down crying in his arms. It made you resent Bradley in a way that was unlike you.

“Jake, no. Not now.” You shook your head, trying to move around him. He blocked you and you gave up all too easily.

His hand came up to your shoulder, resting it softly on you. He towered over you, but he was still so gentle. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you but you never answer. Me and Nat saw that girl with Bradley again, they were in his car, and we were able to find her on facebook. Her names Clara and-”

“God, you're a lifesaver.” Bradley groaned in delight, entering the lobby. Both of your heads whipped in that direction. You forced a smile and laughed, shrugging Jake’s hand off of your shoulder. As Bradley walked closer, you and Jake looked at each other. His eyes had sympathy and a little bit of anger, and yours said don’t-say-another-fucking-word. You could tell it made Bradley physically uncomfortable that you and Jake were talking to each other. Actually, the energy in that room made all three of you uncomfortable. It also made him uncomfortable that neither of you were saying anything. “Did I miss something?”

“No! No, here you go.” You held his laptop out to him, forcing a smile. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your forehead. You were so embarrassed you almost recoiled when he touched you.

“I was just gonna show her where your office was. She looked lost.” Jake’s voice was noticeably different. It's almost like it went back to normal, he sounded so much softer when he talked to you.

The tension between Bradley and Jake was intense. They both had an obvious dislike for each other that was never there before.

“You wanna see my office, babe?” He looked down at you. You nodded enthusiastically.

“See ya Hangman.” He said, pulling you away from the magnetic force of a man that is Jake Seresin.

Back in Bradley’s office, you felt sick to your stomach. From the little information you were able to hear, he is not done with that girl. And now, you have a name to put to that stupid fucking face that you can’t stop thinking about. Leaning against Bradleys desk, you couldn’t help but stare at the picture of the two of you that sat front and center. It was from your wedding. You were both laughing, wrapped completely around each other. The happiness that you had in that picture, the happiness that was in endless supply, surrounding you every second of every day, was nowhere to be found now. You haven’t seen it for a while.

It was different this time. When you first found out he cheated, you were sad. Cried whenever he wasn’t around, threw up, the whole nine yards. Now, just finding out that it is still going on, you were mad. So mad it was almost funny. For some strange reason, you wanted to laugh. An anger unlike anything you have ever felt in your entire life brewed in each and every cell of your body. It was white hot and it was making you sweat.

Sitting down at his desk, Bradley’s eyes were on you. “Are you okay?” His voice was worried, like he might be in trouble if you’re not. “You look sick.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine” You smiled. The familiar feeling in your stomach, the same one you got when Jake had first told you, started crawling up your throat. You were absolutely disgusted by him and it was making you sick to look at him.

He reached out and touched your leg. “Come here.” He spoke softly.

You pushed off of the desk and away from his hand. “I have to go. I have a call- a work call- in a little bit.” You scrambled for an excuse.

“Oh.” He said.

Backing up towards the door, he looked increasingly worried with each step you took. “Bye, see you at home.” You said, giving him no time to respond or question as you walked out. Out in the hallway, you could finally breathe. You stood still for a few moments, the cool air conditioning of the building filling your lungs as you took long, deep breaths. This time is different. He knows what he’s doing to you and he’s happily letting it happen. You were fucking done with him. Your legs started working again and you made your way down the eerily quiet hallway. That place feels like a museum, everything looks clean and untouched.

As you were inspecting the cleanliness while you walked, you stopped in your tracks when you read “Lt. Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin”. This was his office. You looked around the hallway, saw nobody, then knocked lightly. “Come in.” You heard his muffled voice say on the other side. The door clicked as you opened it, peaking your head inside like you thought you would be bothering him if you came in. He was standing behind his desk with papers in his hands. When he saw you, his posture and his eyes softened. He dropped the papers onto his desk.

“Hey.” You said, still not fully stepping into the room.

“Come sit.” He said. You shut the door behind you and you were finally able to let your guard down. You took a shaky breath and walked over to his desk. Not wanting to intrude, not wanting to make yourself at home, you stayed standing.

You cleared your throat. More than anything, you wanted answers. “Can I see a picture of her?”

He started walking around to meet you on the other side of his desk. His desk was much more neat than Bradley’s. Bradley’s was littered with pictures and trinkets and notes. Jake had a couple of awards on display off to the side, and that was mostly it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Jake. Please.” You pleaded, trying to be as stern as you could even though your voice shook.

He looked down to the ground. Without a word, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It was silent as he typed a few words and your stomach started to twist again.

He cleared his throat. “Here.” He had her facebook page pulled up.

To your surprise, she was not blonde. Well at least not all the way. She had strawberry blonde hair and dark eyes. And of fucking course, she had dimples. But the biggest thing that stood out was how young she looked. With a second more of scrolling, you saw “UCLA class of 21” in her bio. “Class of 21?” You gasped. You and Bradley were both 30. She was 22 at most. That pissed you off even more, you felt like you couldn’t even see straight.

Jake grabbed the phone out of your hands. “That’s enough.” He said, putting it back in his pocket. You saw her full name, it’s burned into the back of your eyelids, you could look her up later.

It was quiet again. Jake didn’t know what to say. He had a million things he wanted to say, but none of them were a good idea right now.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” You admitted shamefully.

“Y/N.” He sighed “Don’t say you’re sorry, none of this is your fault.”

Looking down at the ground, you were unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know. She’s so pretty and she-”

“Hey.” His voice was stern, it made you flinch. His hand came up to your chin and lifted your head to look at him. “This was not about you. This is about Bradley being selfish. You are prettier than her. You understand me?” His hand was still gripping your chin. You nodded, eyes locked in his. “You are so god damn beautiful, and Bradley is fucking crazy for not giving you the world.” His grip got softer as he spoke that sentence, but he didn’t move his hand. “Got it?” He asked.

“Yes.” You agree softly. He was breathing hard and his jaw clenched like he was mad. Not that you would ever admit it, but it was sexy. Your knees started to feel weak. Jake has an effect on you that Bradley never did. Right now, it felt like Jake knew that. That he knew he had some otherworldly effect on you and your knees were getting weaker by the millisecond.

“You promise?” He spoke, almost in a whisper. You realized he had dipped his head down at some point, and you tilted yours up.

“Yes, Jake.” You whispered back. You could feel his breath on your lips, making your eyes flicker down at his. Now you couldn’t look up.

Within seconds, everything that Bradley had done to you flashed through your mind in a blur. The most prominent image was him with that 22 year old fucking ginger underneath him. It only made sense to tip your head up further to kiss Jake.

When Jake first found out about the other woman, he knew this day would come, and he swore he wouldn’t take it too far when it did. But right now, now that your warm lips were touching his and he could taste the toothpaste on your tongue and it felt like his whole body was completely lit up, he didn’t know if he could stop himself.

It felt good in so many different ways. It felt good, like a sort of revenge against Bradley. It felt good to be kissed by someone who actually wanted you. And it felt so good because it was Jake.

His hand on your jaw threaded back through your hair, his other pulled you fully against him. He kissed you eagerly, like he couldn’t get enough. Your heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest, like your whole body was struck by lightning and each one of your nerve endings was on fire. It was feverish and nerve wracking and wrong but so fucking right. He backed you up until the back of your thighs hit the edge of his desk, making the desk shift slightly on the floor. Both of his large hands cupped your face, his fingers reaching to the back of your neck.

His hips pushed yours back even further; he wanted you on his desk. Of course, you complied. His big, shiny desk creaked as you adjusted yourself on it and opened your legs to let him stand in between them. Your shorts rode up your thighs and his hands were on that exposed skin immediately. The only sound in the room was both of your heavy breathing. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip, which he took as a green light to stick his tongue in your mouth. This was the most exhilarated you had felt in years. It was different from the many make out sessions you had with Bradley throughout your life, it was so much more intense. There was so much more meaning behind it, so much fire.

It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that Jake is rough in nature, especially in bed. Oddly enough, he was taking it easy on you thus far. That is until you felt his fingers graze against your neck, seemingly testing the waters. You tried to kiss him harder, tried to say yes without actually saying it. He must’ve got the message, his huge hand covered your throat, his fingers wrapping around it. It wasn’t choking as much as it was holding you in place. His teeth pulling your lip made a short whine come from the back of your throat, completely unintentionally. This made him rip his lips away from yours, his hand still holding your throat.

He held your face an inch away from his. “Did you lock the door?” He sounded so different, his voice was so much deeper, so much darker than normal.

You managed to shake your head within his grasp. The door isn’t locked, there is no way you could have predicted this was going to happen when you walked in 10 minutes ago. It was logical to assume he was going to go lock it, your husband was literally two doors away. Jake Seresin is anything but logical, you should know this by now. He kissed you again, so much dirtier this time. Wasting zero time, his hands were back on your thighs. Unexpectedly, your legs were lifted off the desk and pulled forward, leaving you laying on the desk. Jake pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs, kneeling as he did so, was a sight to fucking behold.

A loud sigh left his mouth as he set his gaze on your pussy. It was nothing short of heavenly, celestial even. For the last 8 years, you were forbidden fruit, and now he’s on his knees right in front of you, ready to taste you, ready to sin.

Stopping didn’t cross your mind once. Actually the only thing on your mind the whole time was more. It wasn’t even revenge at this point, it was desire in its purest form. Papers on his desk shifted under your hair, a few of them slipping onto the floor, not that you noticed.

Slowly, almost experimentally, he runs a single finger through your slit. It struck you that it was gonna be really hard to stay quiet. “You this wet for me?” He faked flattery, pulling his finger away.

“Jake, please.” You whined. Trying to get him to do something, you lifted your legs up so your calves rested on your shoulders.

“I wanna take my time with you.” He pressed a kiss to your clit, the light touch sending jolts throughout your whole body. “Give you what you deserve.”

Apparently, ‘taking his time with you’ meant diving into you and going absolutely feral. It was feverish, the way he licked and sucked you was so greedy. There was no time for you to feel bad about squeezing his head between your thighs, but you suspected he liked it anyway. He does. His nails dug into your thighs so he could hold onto you for leverage. There was no way of telling if he was sucking or biting your clit, but whatever it was, it made your vision blurry and your thoughts completely disappear. It was necessary for one of your hands to cover your mouth or else this whole office would know how good Jake is.

All this time, his cockiness was not for nothing. You understood why he had girls obsessed and delusional, you would do the same for this treatment. Maybe he’s had a lot of practice, but there is no way he is this fierce with every other girl. He was making you feel like you were the only girl in the world, like your head was spinning. He didn’t use his fingers, he really didn’t need to, his mouth already had you fighting to not cum so quickly. Ever intuitive, the only time he broke away from you was to say “Give it to me” against you. His deep voice sent vibrations through your core to your fingertips. The bright fluorescent light above you seemed to expand as your vision went white. The air left your lungs, your head spun, every muscle in your body tensed. His tongue worked you through your orgasm perfectly, and he let you grind against him as you hit your peak. “Good fucking girl.” He moaned against you.

Once he was positive you were done, he reluctantly pulled away. If he had it his way, he would keep you just like this all day. You couldn’t sit up yet, all you could do was lay there and catch your breath.

Jake knew this was bad. Not because you were his best friend's wife, but because now he had a taste and he knows he won’t be able to stop any time soon. He picked your underwear up off of the floor and gently slid them onto your shaky legs. You let him dress you again, eyes still closed. When he was done, you sat up and the look he gave you was nothing short of sinister.

He leaned his hands on the desk on either side of you, looking at you like he wanted you to say something. You brought your hands up to either side of his face and kissed him in response, words could not do what he just did to you justice. This kiss was much slower than the rest, he let you taste yourself on his lips.

Two voices talking in the hallway passed his door, making the two of you jump apart. The voices faded down the hallway, leaving the two of you tensed. For a second, the only thing either of you could do was look at each other. Every emotion possible coursed through your body, and you didn’t know whether to smile or cry or laugh or kiss him again.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He finally spoke, stunned and shakily. “I didn’t think that was actually ever gonna happen.”

That made you smile. He had thought about it before, which came as no surprise. The cold air of the office washed over you, bringing you back into reality. “You are…” Words failed you, nothing could describe how you felt. “So good.”

Of course, his cocky smile made an appearance. You could no longer judge him for it, he has every right in the world to be cocky. “You better leave before your husband sees you here.” He backed up to let you get off his desk.

“Yeah.” You agreed begrudgingly, looking down at the ground. You got a sight of your legs, your thighs were glistening and there were nail marks in them.

As you stepped away from him, he grabbed your arm. “This isn’t a one time thing. At least not for me.” He spoke inches from your ear. “And lock the door next time.”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

Back at home, you had 2 hours before Bradley got back. You had done your mourning of the relationship, you had spent your time wishing Bradley was different for weeks. Wishing he was sorry. But he’s not. And he’s never going to be. You could continue to be sad, continue to be a victim, continue to cry every day. But there were some other options.

A quick google search of the name that was burned into the back of your eyelids; Clara Bitner, you found her facebook. There was a time where you felt sorry for her. Bradley had obviously lied to her and she got caught up in something she didn’t even understand, so she was probably hurt too. But now that you know she has chosen to continue seeing your husband when she knows he’s married, you hate her. It’s so unfortunate that she was pretty. It would help if you could look at her pictures and say she was ugly, but that wasn’t an option. She had long strawberry blonde hair with deep brown eyes and classic southern charm. She was from Tennessee, but she went to UCLA, and now she’s a kindergarten teacher. “Of fucking course.” You scoffed at her occupation. Is there anything bad about this girl? She had a lot of friends and she lived in a beach condo maybe 20 minutes from here. You had been scrolling for a while, and a certain picture made you stop in your fucking tracks. It was a picture from her 22nd birthday dinner, all of her friends sitting around the table smiling, and there was Bradley. He was sitting next to her with his hand resting on her leg, with a huge fucking smile on his face. It was posted 4 months ago. If he was important to her enough to go to her birthday dinner four months ago, you didn’t want to know how long they had been seeing each other.

How did he have time for this? This wasn’t a hook up, it wasn’t an affair, it was a second life. You began to think about all of the flight tours, weekend trips, and week long missions he had gone on in the past year. How many of those were lies?

Your marriage is completely ruined, 100% done. You could mope about it. Or you could keep having fun of your own.

By the time you heard the garage door opening, you were in the kitchen making dinner. You played the song “Jolene” by Dolly Parton because it was ironic and weirdly specific to your life right now. And it was just plain funny.

The front door opened and you turned the volume up. “Hey baby!” He shouted from the front of the house.

“Hi!” You said. Acting normal was going to be harder than you thought. You heard him playing with the dogs for a moment, baby talking and petting them.

His footsteps approached the kitchen and you took a deep breath. “God, you look sexy.” He said.

You were wearing shorts and a t-shirt and no makeup. You brushed off his comment as guilty flattery.

He came up and you had to brace yourself. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your neck. It made you fucking sick.

Not replying, you started humming along to the music. He swayed with you for a moment so you started singing.

You’re beauty is beyond compare,

With flaming locks of auburn hair,

Ivory skin, and eyes of emerald green.

“I love this song.” You stated.

“Mhm. Dolly’s the best.” He unwrapped his arms from you.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man.

He side eyed you and you stared right back at him. Yet, in perfect Bradley nature, he played it cool, walking to the other side of the counter.

“Poor Dolly.” You sighed. “Especially since that bitch Jolene is ginger. That just plain sucks, getting cheated on with a red head.” Trying to focus on the pot you were stirring, you couldn’t help but look up at him. His tongue was in his cheek and he had a terrified glint in his eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently.

“Nothin’.” He shook his head and walked away.

This was kinda fun.

“You have any plans tonight?” You asked Bradley over dinner. It was a Friday, so you figured he was going somewhere, be it with Clara or not.

“Eh, Jake and Javy wanna go watch the game at a bar, I’ll probably go.” He said. “D’ you?”

That was probably a lie. “I think Jenna wants me to come meet her baby, so I’ll probably go over there. Plus she said she needs a wine night.” Jenna was your coworker, and she hasn’t even had her baby yet. It was so empowering to lie back.

While Bradley did the dishes, you got out your phone to clear some things up.

Are you hanging out with Bradley tonight?

“What time do you think you’re gonna go?” You asked from the table. His eyes were on the dishes and it was incredible how he lied so often without flinching while it made your adrenaline rush and your heart pound.

“7:30, 8?” He said.

No? Is he saying I am?

The feeling you got was the perfect definition of disappointed but not surprised. It’s a confirmed lie now. “Okay, that’s probably what time I’ll leave too.”

Yes. He’s leaving at 8. Can I come over then?

Of course.

Were you doing this purely to get back at Bradley? No, not entirely. That was a huge driving factor in your actual actions towards Jake, but you’ve always wanted to, so part of it is something you’ve always wanted.

Not long after dinner was cleaned up, Bradley was kissing your forehead and heading out the door. You watched out the window as his car pulled out of the driveway, and once it disappeared down the street, you rushed up to your room. There was a lacy black bra and thong set you had just bought waiting for you in your closet. Once you pulled it on, you admired yourself in the mirror. If Bradley won’t appreciate it, Jake sure will. You exchanged your t-shirt for a sweatshirt, you didn’t want to look like you were trying. Obviously, you were.

After spraying yourself with perfume and taking too long to decide what scent of lotion you wanted to use, you nearly ran down stairs and slipped your shoes on. A quick goodbye to the dogs and you were out the door. It seemed that every time you drove to Jake’s you were rushing. While you were driving you thought about what you were going to do when you got there, fully intending to be bold and get straight to it. The fluttering nervousness in your stomach made you feel like you were a teenager again, you hadn’t been nervous to see a boy in years. When you pulled in the driveway, the boldness started to fade out, and you almost felt shy. There was a split second where you felt guilty, your conscience waved a huge red flag and your brain told you this was wrong. One thought about where Bradley actually was right now, and you swung the car door open and got out. The thought that Bradley probably just got to Clara’s fueled your steps, and by the time you made it to the front door, you were seething. Hopefully Bradley has fun tonight, because you sure will.

Despite the vengeance coursing through your body, you knocked lightly on the door. All too quickly, the lock clicked and the door opened. “Hey, Y/N.” Jake said casually, like you weren’t his best friend's wife. He was freshly showered, his hair was still a little damp. He wore gray sweatpants and a white shirt that was entirely too tight around his biceps.

“Hi.” You said simply. He stepped back, allowing you to come in. It was quiet, and when he turned around to face you, there was an unmistakable anticipation present. It made a shiver run up your spine and goosebumps breakout on your arms. He nodded his head as a way to say ‘follow me’, and started leading you through the house. Silence still hung in the air. It felt like a volcano waiting to explode, like the calm before a storm.

You made it to his room, and your heartbeat started to speed up. It was getting real now. You had never seen his room before, but it’s just as nice as you expected. Jake has expensive taste, and his whole house reflects that. His bed was lazily made, but the rest of the room was spotless.

He reached his bed and sat down on the end of it. The way his hooded eyelids cast a shadow over his eyes made you notice how dark the lighting was in there. Unsure of what to do, you just stood and looked at him. He led you here without a word, he should know what to do now.

“Come here.” He said darkly, the voice you heard in his office earlier that day made a return. He spread his legs open so you could stand between them, a complete contrast to what happened on his desk. You still hadn’t said a word since you walked in the house, but you didn’t need to, your body said it all. The back of your thighs fit perfectly in his hands, and his shoulders fit perfectly in yours. His huge warm hands on the back of your legs made you want to melt into the floor. “Do you want this?” He asked, looking up at you.

Bradleys face flashed in your mind. So did Clara’s. You nodded.

“Say it.” His grip tightened on your thighs.

“I want it.”

“You want what?” He was really making you work for it, apparently.

You went to say it, but you hesitated. It sounded worse out loud. “I want you to fuck me.”

You swear his eyes changed in that instant. He let go of your thighs and pushed you back lightly, confusing you for a moment. “Strip.” He said. Heart in your throat, your jaw could’ve dropped to the floor. This was a lot. But you liked it.

Taking a deep breath, you started by kicking your shoes off. It only felt right to tease him, so you toyed with the rim of your sweatshirt for a moment. You slowly lifted it over your head, taking your sweet time. When you finally got it off, you heard him exhale. You secretly thanked yourself for wearing such a nice bra. The dim lighting made his face darker, but you could still see the pure lust in his eyes. Next, you hooked your finger in your shorts and pulled them down, revealing the underwear you picked out just for him. Once you kicked your shorts off of your feet, you reached your hand behind your back to unclip your bra.

“Leave it.” He said. You dropped your hands and let him look at you. He reached his hand out to you, making you step forward and grab it. As he was pulling you towards him, his eyes moved all over your body. “You pick these out for me or for him?”

Your face grew hot. “You.” You replied softly, your hand still in his. He used his grip on your hand to pull you down to kiss him. It was searing, and for a second, both of you reveled in the feeling. Without him having to ask, you climbed on top of him, stradling your legs on either side of him. When your core felt how hard he was under his sweatpants, it made your whole body twitch. If that’s what simply feeling him through his clothes felt like, you had no idea what was going to happen when he actually fucked you. He must have felt it too, his hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him.

Things were moving quickly, but it was still entirely too slow. He flipped you over onto your back and sat up to take his shirt off. This was by far not the first time you had seen Jake with his shirt off, but by god, it was the best. Maybe he was flexing, but you didn't care. He was sculpted like an angel, like there wasn’t a single flaw about his body. His hair got messed up when his shirt was pulled over it, it ruffled the top. It only made him look hotter. It was hard to not notice his dick through his gray sweatpants, and simply the size of his bulge made you nervous. When he bent back down to meet your lips, you kissed him in a rushed manner. It was beyond the point of wanting him, you needed him. “You want my mouth again?” He asked against your lips.

The thought made your eyes roll back in your head. Yes, you undoubtedly wanted his mouth, but you needed him inside you more. You hooked your fingers in his waistband and shook your head. He got the message, but that didn’t mean he was going to give you what you wanted right away. He used both of his hands to pull your underwear down. “Slutty fuckin’ panties.” He mumbled. Your lips met again and it felt like you couldn’t spread your legs any wider for him. Without warning, without a single preliminary touch, he stuck two of his fingers inside of you. This earned a theatrical reaction from you, like it was the first time someone has touched you that way. While it wasn’t the first time by a long shot, it somehow felt like it was, you had never been touched like this.

“Jake” Was the only thing you could get out of your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. When you tilted your head back to moan, he took the opportunity to kiss your neck. He felt like he wanted to moan more than you did. His mouth sloppily worked its way down your neck and onto your chest. It would have been smart to ask him not to leave any marks on you, but you didn’t care one bit anymore. Not while his teeth were pulling your bra down. He sucked one of your nipples into your mouth, his fingers were still moving in and out of you.

“You’re so perfect” He mumbled against your chest. You had never felt a complement that sounded so sincere, just the sound of him saying that made you feel perfect. Under his touch, under his body, under his lips, you were perfect. His fingers curled inside you and your back couldn’t arch any higher, your whimpers couldn’t get any more desperate. He used his arm next to your head to sit up, looking you up and down. His eyes roaming your body didn’t make you insecure or shy, they just riled you up even more.

His fingers were amazing, but they could only do so much. You both knew what you really wanted. “Please Jake. Please fuck me.” You cried. With one last particularly harsh curl of his fingers, he pulled his fingers out of you. He brought his fingers up to your lips, only having to brush your wetness onto your lips for a second before you sucked them into your mouth without thinking. A low groan came from the back of his throat when you gagged on his fingers, licking your own slick off of him.

He let his fingers stay in your mouth for longer than they needed to be, purely for the way you looked while taking them. Your eyes bore into his the whole time, and you thought that if he was going to humor himself with this for any longer, you were going to take matters into your own hands. The tips of your nails dragged down his chest, over his stomach, and to the waist of his sweatpants. Teasing was an option, but you couldn’t anymore, your hands gripped his sweats as you pulled them down. While doing so, a realization crossed your mind; he isn’t wearing any underwear. That’s Jake, ever classy.

He enjoyed letting you do the work, so he leaned down to taste your wetness on your lips. His tongue licked into your mouth, trying to collect anything that was left; the taste of you was addicting, he had gotten a taste in his office earlier, and he knew he was already addicted. You didn’t see his dick right away, but you felt it when you wrapped your hand around it. When you realized how thick he was, your heart fluttered. He was thicker than anything you had ever taken, thicker than your husband. A moan slipped from your mouth into his, and that was his tipping point. Before you could make any further moves, both of your hands were pinned above your head with only one of his. He used the other to pull his sweatpants down further, then line himself up with you. The sound of his breathing was loud as he slid his tip up and down your slit, making you squirm. “God,” he shook his head, his eyes glued to your pussy “you are so fucking wet.”

“Because I’m with you.” You said. It sounded like a simple observation to you, but to Jake it meant that you wanted him, you have always wanted him, the way that he has always wanted you. It meant that you were this wet every time you were around him, the way that he was rock solid every time he was around you. That thought was his breaking point, there was no teasing left that he could do, he slid himself inside of you. You knew that he would stretch you, but the feeling still surprised you.

“Oh my god.” You whined as he bottomed out. He stopped all of the way inside of you, partially to let you adjust, and partially to revel in the feeling of being inside you. Everything was hazy, his vision, his mind, but he still was able to think about how long he had wanted this. Just the thought of seeing you with Bradley at the bars every weekend, and the fact that you were now underneath him, was enough to make him want to cum. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, and he decided to wait a little longer to start moving, his hand came up to hold your jaw, making you look at him. “You’re so big.” You croaked under his touch.

His lips were an inch from yours, you could feel his breath. “Take it.” He spat. With that, he started to move. Even with your head against his pillows, you felt lightheaded and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled all of the way out and went slowly back in. From there, he was no longer slow. It only took seconds for his pace to quicken, until his skin was slapping into yours and the sound was infiltrating your ears. The stretch definitely hurt, but the pain was mixed with the most mouthwatering pleasure. Without even trying, he was hitting the perfect spot deep inside you, and soon the sound of skin slapping was overtaken by your high pitched moans. Without realizing it, he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, making this last as long as he wanted was going to be a lot harder than normal. You felt his lips against your neck and with his face closer to your ears, you could hear his grunts every time he thrust inside of you.

His hand was still on your jaw, and even though your wrists had been freed above your head, you hadn’t even noticed. His other hand grabbed onto your hair for leverage. It seemed like his thrusts got harder each time he entered you. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how you feel.” His tongue swirled behind your ear.

“So good.” You choked out. “You’re so good, Jake. So, so, so good.” Rambles fell out of your mouth as your arms wrapped around his back. The feeling of nails scratching down his back was one of Jake’s favorite things in the world, so when your long nails stroked all the way from his shoulders to his tailbone, he threw his head back. He sat up so his face was above you again, and slid his hand from your jaw to your neck.

Your eyes found his, and the sight of his tanned, sweaty, toned body above yours made you throb around him. His pace was insane, the pain of him slamming into you was drowned out by the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with every single thrust. The sight of him, the power behind his thrusts, his size, it was all too much. The tears that had been stinging your eyes for the past 5 minutes started to fall. The throbbing of your pussy and the tightening of your stomach told you that you were close. “J-Jake…” You stuttered. “I’m… I…”

“Beg.” He squeezed your throat.

“P-Please.” You said the word that you felt like you had already said 50 times tonight. “Please, I’ve waited so long. Please, please, please please please” You rambled, more tears falling.

“Fuuuck, give it to me.” He groaned and dropped his head, the sight of your doe eyes and tears were going to make him cum himself if he didn’t look away. It didn’t take long after his demand for you to let the wave of pleasure consume you. Mouth falling open, your whole body pulsed and your mind went completely blank. More tears welled in your eyes and the only sensation your body could make out was the feeling of his lips on your jaw. It lasted long and it was powerful, and when you were finally coherent again, there was a noticeable wet spot underneath you. “Good job, sweet girl.” He praised, his sweetness making your stomach flutter.

Coming back up to hover over you, he kissed you. Believe it or not, Jake is not a complete and total dick, despite popular belief. He had told himself he would not ask you this question, that it would be crossing a line and it could upset you. But, when he pulled away and he saw how fucked-out you looked, and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him clouded his mind, he couldn’t help himself. “Does he fuck you like this?” He asked darkly, his face close to yours.

There was a clear answer. It was staring you right in the face. But saying it out loud just felt wrong. Even more wrong than what you were already doing. “Jake…” You breathed as a surrender.

“Tell me.” He said. Your mouth opened to answer, then closed again. He raised his eyebrows, his cockiness reflecting in his eyes. To his defense, he had absolutely every right to be cocky about this. You shook your head. “No. Say it.” He said through gritted teeth.

“No. No he doesn’t.” It came out as almost a laugh. “Nobody ever has.”

“Yeah?” His arms flexed underneath your fingernails that were digging into them. You nodded.

His energy had an obvious change, the admission had done something sinister to him. He sat fully up and pulled out, earning a loud wince from you. All at once, he grabbed your waist and flipped you over onto your stomach. With one hand, he reached under your stomach to pull you onto your hands and knees. Only having been out of you for seconds, he slammed himself back in. You were already sore, and he wasn’t even done yet.

Now that your big, tear-filled eyes weren’t staring into his, he was able to start really talking. “Y/N,” one of his huge hands gripped your ass, the other held onto your waist. “I don’t even want to tell you how many times I’ve thought about this.” The only response he got from you was a high pitched whine. “I felt disgusting for thinking about you like that, but I couldn’t help it. It drove me fucking crazy, having to imagine taking you like this every night, my best friends wife.” That probably wasn’t the best thing for him to say right now, but he couldn’t control the words coming out of his mouth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, it just turned you on even more. His thrusts started to lose rhythm, and as much as he would like to keep this going all night, he was coming unraveled. “I always knew I would take better care of you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I knew he couldn’t fuck you the way I could. The way you deserve.”

It felt almost like you were going in and out of consciousness, like you could barely even process his words. Without warning to him or yourself, you pulsed around him and another orgasm poured over your body. No words came from your mouth, and by the end of the second-most powerful orgasm of your life, your body was nearly limp and your face fell to press against the mattress. “Jesus, baby.” Jake breathed. “You just… so much… fuck, where do you want my cum?” he asked, almost rhetorically because of how little time you had to answer. He pulled out at the exact last moment, and you felt his warm cum start to run down your back. He collapsed, trapping your body underneath him as his armed caged around your sides.

Time felt different, and your hazy mind didn’t know how long the two of you laid there, breathless. Finally, gaining full consciousness, you felt Jake get off of you and walk out of the room. You were smart enough not to turn over, his bedsheets were already wet enough. The feeling of a cold wet towel against your core made your whole body jolt. “Relax, relax.” Jake said, his voice completely different than just a few minutes ago. As he gently wiped your back with the towel, his other hand came to brush hair out of your face, noticing your completely blank expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

A smile cracked through your lips. You could say the smile was sinister, a I-just-fucked-my-husbands-best-friend smile, or you could say it was pure bliss, a I-just-had-the-best-sex-of-my-life smile. You preferred the latter. “Yeah.” You giggled “You could say that.”

His shoulders relaxed, and a very similar smile spread across his face. While he was putting his sweatpants back on, you glanced at his alarm clock. Nine o clock, it had only been an hour since you left your house. You sunk into the bed with the realization that you had all of the time in the world. Unintentionally, the math of where Bradley is calculated itself in your head. Clara lives further north, on the coast, about 25 minutes from here. Bradley has just gotten started there.

When Jake climbed in bed next to you, the thought of cuddling made a chill crawl up your spine. For some reason, that felt like crossing a line. It felt more intimate than anything else that had happened in this bed tonight. But, Jake didn’t seem to think twice about it. When his strong arms wrapped around you, and you pressed your cheek against his warm chest, all of your inhibitions melted away. His hand rubbed up and down your back, and your eyes fluttered closed. The feeling of your eyelashes closing against his chest made Jake’s heart swell. Fuck.

When you walked up the stairs to your bedroom, the house felt eerily silent. It was unsettling. The stairs didn’t even creek as you walked up them, and your dogs were nowhere to be seen. You started to move quicker towards your bedroom, and you flipped the light on right away when you opened the door.

The sight of strawberry blonde hair splayed across your pillow reflected the overhead light. Your mouth fell open, and you tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Furthermore, you tried to yell, but it felt like you couldn’t even get a breath in to do so. You couldn’t even move your feet.

Clara’s eyes opened, and she didn’t look shocked to see you. She sat up and met your eyes. A smile spread across her lips.

Your whole body flinched and your eyes shot open. When you realized you were laying in Jake's bed, you were finally able to take a breath in. The realization made you relax into his arms for a moment, closing your eyes again. When the clouds in your mind started to clear, and you finally had a coherent thought, you realized that you were just asleep. In Jake’s bed. Your eyes shot open again, and your head whipped around to look at his alarm clock. It was 12:30. “Shit.” You gasped. Moving on pure instinct, you rolled out of his bed and started to gather your clothes. By the time your shorts were on, Jake woke up.

“What’s wrong?” He groggily spoke.

“We fell asleep. It’s 12:30.” You pulled your sweatshirt over your head. “I have to go home.”

“Oh.” He said. He was obviously not as freaked out as you were, but he wasn’t the one going home to his spouse. The room was quiet while you put your shoes on, and in the darkness you were able to make out Jake’s figure standing up and rubbing his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to say as you walked out of his room. Fully intending to book it to your car, your rushed movements were stopped by Jake grabbing your wrist right before you reached the front door. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you. His lips were soft, and his hands held your hips gently. Only letting the kiss last a few seconds, you pulled away. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you wondered if Bradley had tried calling you, if he was worried about you. Just past his shoulder, you saw Jake's couch, the one you were sitting on when he had originally told you about Bradley’s affair. Just the sight made your blood start to boil.

You kissed him again. “Goodnight Jake.”

“Goodnight.” His hands left your hips and one last glance was shared between the two of you before you were out the front door. No promises of this happening again, no ‘text me when you get home’, just a pit in both of your stomachs that said this was wrong, but there is no way we are stopping. The air was chilly as you walked to your car and you didn’t have it in yourself to speed home this time. You didn’t care. Driving slowly, you let the radio play softly in the background and when you turned the corner to your street and saw Bradley’s car in the driveway, you hardly reacted. The lights were still on, and with a glance at your phone let you know that he still hadn’t texted or called.

It was 12:45 and Bradley was on the couch watching TV. Not unusual, but you were still quiet when you walked in. “How’s Jenna?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Good.” You kicked off your shoes. “Her baby is so cute.” While you hoped the questions would stop there, you knew it would be suspicious to just go upstairs right away. How does Bradley do this every day?

He lifted the blanket he was using up so you could crawl under it. His warm skin felt safe and familiar. As usual, his hand fell to your hair to pet it. Closing your eyes, you could already feel the guilt seeping through your skin and crawling up to form a lump in your throat. “How was the game?” You faked curiosity.

“Mm.” He grumbled. “Philly lost. Per usual.”

You began to wonder if he actually watched it. “How’s Jake?”

His chest rose under your cheek as he took a breath in. “Good, I think. Same old same old.”

“Mhm.” You agreed. Fucking liar.

An overwhelming feeling of disgust overtook you. He was lying, but so were you. You were just as bad as him. You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you said you would do anything for each other, you would never leave each other, that you loved each other more than anything in the world. What happened? Where did you go wrong?

Tears stung your eyes and nausea crept up your throat. "I'm gonna go to bed." You sprung off the couch and booked it towards the stairs.

Bradley didn't flinch. "Goodnight." He spoke, eyes glued to the TV "I love you."

You glanced back at him, and maybe if he was looking at you he would see the disturbance of disgust and infidelity on your face. Regardless, you said nothing in response and walked up the stairs silently.

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #rooster x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman fic #jake seresin imagine #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader

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daydreams-after-dark · 3 hours ago

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I constantly have this image of Minho and Chan being in their mid/early 30s with peaks of gray hair and a younger female (early 20s) being a sort of babysitter or more so a live-in nanny that takes care of their kids. Just the thought of sneaking around with them despite them being married seems so taboo yet thrilling. Lingering touches and hurried glances while trying to act normal and brush off the obvious tension. Just the pure thought of both of them being so rough yet gentle and pushing into the mattress and telling you to take both of them at the same time just does something to me, like the obvious size difference and power dynamics make my knees weak…

MDNI // 18+

part of #sorshas birthday month submissions

I am loving your thoughts here. It's like a forbidden love type situation, which makes it oh so much more satisfying when they finally touch you.

I can totally see Lee Know and Chan as older men. They'd look so refined. So in control and in charge, with the capability of being a little mean.

But they also have qualities where they want to take care of you too. Make sure you're okay. Look after you. They'd be so encouraging, telling you you're taking them so well. "Such a tight little pussy. I know it's a big stretch. You taking us so well."

They'd know how to draw orgasm after orgasm out of you because they are so much more wiser and experienced. They'd teach you how to suck their dicks properly, and show you how you can fit both of them at the same time.

Then in the day, they look at you with such admiration on how you take care of the kids and run the house.

They wouldn't know what they'd do without you.

Thank you for sharing my love. Such hot thoughts.

read more submissions here: #sorshas birthday month

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY MONTH - DECEMBER Hey my beautiful friends! I have an announcement / request.It's my birthday month, and I am opening up the ask box (even though it was never closed), for something a little bit different.Instead of you sending in fic / scenario requests (which you still can regardless of this), I am requesting YOU to send ME your naughtiest thoughts or fantasies about your bias.Like, what are your most filthy thoughts?What would you let them do to you? What do you want to do to them? Is there a particular theme that really gets you wet or hard? (like me and alien Han)? Or, what's a kink you didn't know you had until you started reading smut (like me and Han with 2 dicks - it doesn't have to be realistic)? You don't even have to be involved! It could be you really love imagining two of the guys (or more) together.I know you have filthy minds and are horny little things.Hit me with what you've got.Also... of course you can submit anonymously... that way you hopefully won't hold back.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

#skz smut #chan x reader #chan smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut #sorshas birthday month #after dark ask box

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sugawhaaa · 4 hours ago

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SAN X READER

⚝₊ ⊹˚Scented feelings⚝₊ ⊹˚

☆-Part. 2-☆

Warnings:: SMUT

Genre:: thigh riding, oral (f/m rec) fingering, mega dirty talk, choking, finger sucking, hair pulling, size kink (san), praise, degradation, creampie, aftercare

Pairing:: dom!san x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: Since San fans are lowkey freaky as hell I made the nastiest fanfic to be uploaded on my page for yall ❣️ for the San sluts

Taglist:: @playboygeniusphilanthropist (fucking love that username) @silver-hwaberry @zerosleepafk @ghostyycat7 @rosydipity @honsans-atiny-24

🎧::

His words caught you by surprise, “I don't mind you staying the night but if you wanted to spend time with me you could've just asked baby,” he has this smile on his lips that makes your stomach flutter.

“I guess I was just…intimated by what you might say,” you look up at him nervously and his expression falters for a moment before chuckling.

“I guess I can relate,” he pauses for a moment before leaning back. “Since we're gym buddies I was afraid you'd take it differently if I asked you out or tried to make any moves,” he then runs his hands over his face. “And I was afraid you'd notice the way I looked at you when we worked out. Sometimes I just couldn't control myself, it's no excuse, but my eyes would always be drawn to you sometimes in inappropriate ways,” San explains and you're shocked by his confession. “I felt so bad about it but at the end of the day I'm just a man,” he continues to look away before turning back to you to see your reaction.

“No San, you're different,” you put a hand to his thigh. “You're kind and considerate and the fact you felt guilty about it proves that you are good at heart,” you explain and his eyes soften as you compliment him. “Besides…I can't say I never looked at you in dirty ways,” you smile. This was definitely a next step in your relationship; this is quite a big confession to reveal, a moment of vulnerability.

“Have you…thought about me in those ways too? Romantically or…” he freezes, the word lingering on his tongue like a potent flavour. “sexually?”

His question got you off guard because it was true. Late nights you'd stay up imagining his hands on your body, his body completely open to your eyes, feeling him…

“I suppose I have,” you admit with pink cheeks and San lets out a sigh of relief.

“So this feeling is…mutual?” He leans closer to you again and your attention is quickly drawn back to him. Silence falls upon the room and your eyes rake over his body trying to decipher your next move and his intent. You move closer to him and without thinking further place your lips on his.

San jumps lightly at the contact but quickly loosens up to the feeling and kisses you back. His hands reflexively jump to your waist, to pull you closer, and the side of your face. The kiss quickly turns into more, his tongue roaming around your mouth and dancing over your tongue. He pulls you onto his body and you're pressed flush against his body, his warmth spreading across your body. You pull back from the kiss to breathe but San keeps his face near your body, his breath hot against your neck as his hands continue to rub your waist and back.

“San…” you breathe out and he tilts up to look at you, his bangs in his eyes and his cheeks flushed. “I…I wanna have sex with you,” you admit and he smiles slightly before resting his face in the crevice of your neck. His hands sliver underneath your shirt to feel your warm skin. He smiles warmly and he encourages you to feel him up too.

"Here, let me undress," he effortlessly lifts you off his body and sits you on the couch. He stands up and begins to undress; he throws off his tight black shirt and unties his sweatpants. You just sat there wide-eyed as you took in the sight of his body. His broad chest and shoulders, his thin waist and wide hips, his biceps and thighs; you felt yourself drooling at the sight. Now he was left in his boxers, his bulge threatening to rip them open as he stood above you.

San tilts his head as he watches you gawk at his body. "Your turn," he smiles as he sits back onto the couch and you blush.

"Haha...I don't think I can compare to...your show," you admit before standing up; you were a lot more hesitant when undressing than he was. You take your shirt off without much worry but when it comes to bra you're a little more hesitant. You bring your arms to your back and unclip the back of your bra, letting your breasts spill out of the cups. San bites his lip harshly as he watches, no words needed.

You then move on to your pants. You undo the button of your jeans and slowly unzip the crotch before pulling them down to pool at your feet. San smirks and leans back, spreading his legs, as he stares at you.

"You've been working hard darling," he then pats his thigh loudly, telling you to sit, and you comply quickly. "You're a good listener, you always have been," when you rest on his thigh he pulls you closer your folds rubbing against his thigh making you whine softly. "Anytime we'd work out I'd tell you 'just a bit longer' or 'one more time' and you'd always listen so well," he rubs your thighs in a circular motion, his palms wide enough to cover the flat of your thigh. "You think you can listen to those same orders tonight?"

His question made your walls tighten and your heart race. San chuckled softly as he felt the throbbing of your pussy against his thigh. "I'll take that as a yes," he leans up to kiss your neck and his cock presses against your pelvis as he does so.

"San...I can't wait any longer," you whine and he looks up at you, intrigued by your statement.

"What do you want baby? Wanna get off on my thigh?" He offers, open to discuss your plans, and you nod quickly. He pulls you closer, your pelvis flesh against his hip. "Do you want to move yourself or want my help?" He offers again as he brushes your hair back.

"Maybe a bit of both?" You then can't take it any longer; you begin to grind against his thigh and it quickly becomes intense. Usually, you'd gradually increase the speed and pressure but you couldn't take it. The way you moved made you look like an animal humping their owner. Your hips moved with determination as San praised you.

"Good girl, keep using me until you cum baby," he growls in your ear before biting on your neck, sucking the skin hard. You moan loudly as the friction from his thigh begins to make you shake. He brings his hands to your breasts and massages them, flicking the nipples with his thumbs every now and then, before sucking on them. His teeth graze over your sensitive bud before sucking in the hardened nipple.

"I'm getting close," you whine and San pulls back from your boobs to talk.

"I know baby, just hold on a little longer," he smirks before licking your nipples. You moan as your gut begins to tighten.

"S-San! Please~ I'm gonna cum," your words are damn near incoherent between the moans and saliva building up in your mouth.

"Let it out baby, cum on daddy," he growls between making out with your tits and that singular statement is the turnover. Your body shivers as you clench his shoulders, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. You let out a symphony of hoarse moans before panting heavily, falling limp against his body. The room fills with your heavy breathing as San kisses your neck. "Good job baby," he smiles against your neck and you whine softly.

"I wanna suck you off," you blurt out and San is momentarily taken aback.

"O-Of course darling, go ahead," he sits back and spreads his legs slightly for you to wiggle in between them. You can see the wet spot on his boxers from riding him which makes you blush for a moment but you remember your goal here. You sit between his legs comfortably and gently rub his cock through his boxers. He groans softly and throws his head back. You could tell he was eager, his cock twitching and aching to come closer to you.

You could tell just from his bulge that he was very impressive which made you a little nervous, but no worries, anything to see him in pleasure. As you gently tug off his boxers your mind reels with images of what he'd look like, his head thrown back, his lips parted, brows furrowed, his neck exposed for you to suck and bite on.

Once you free his cock from his underwear you notice his confident facade begins to falter for a moment. You gently pick up his cock into your hand and give the tip a little kiss. San gasps and looks down at you, his heart racing at the feeling of your tender lips. He lets out a little moan as he watches you kiss and lick around the tip of his cock.

"Good girl, you like to tease don't you?" He smirks softly as he shifts your hair over and holds it up behind your head. You take him deeper into your mouth and he whines softly, his hips bucking up. "Oh god, your mouth feels so good," he moans with a grin, his chest heaving with excitement. He looked down at you again through hooded eyes as you took him deeper and deeper until his tip reached the back of your throat.

You choke softly but don't let it stop you. You slowly pull him out of your mouth, only to the tip, before repeating. "God damn," he growls harshly. "You're doing so good-fuck," he tosses his head back again and his grip tightens in your hair. "Would it be embarrassing if I came already?" He chuckles softly and you shake your head; you double up your efforts in hopes of making him cum sooner.

You feel his cock begin to twitch and his hips jerk every time his tip hits the back of your throat. "Oh yeah~ I'm cumming baby," he moans before biting his lip. His back arches off the couch as his fist clenches harshly around your tucked-back hair, though a few strands have fallen from his grasp and into your face. Just as you feel a hint of his flavor touch your tongue you pull him out of your mouth, letting his cock rest against your face and spurt out cum.

San was shocked at your lewd display but he loved it, his cock growing hard already. "You're a dirty one," he laughs and your smile before flicking a bit of his cum off your face and onto your finger; you dip your finger into your mouth and lick it clean. "Fuck," he chuckles softly before reaching for a tissue box on the table stand. He wipes down your face, his hands warm and gentle against your face.

Once he's done cleaning you up he lifts you onto his lap effortlessly and firmly places his hands on your ass. "Why don't we trade places? You sit on the couch and I'll go on my knees for you," he offers and you smile, excited for what he has planned. He stands up, carrying you around his waist effortlessly, and sets you down on the couch. He goes on his knees between your legs. He gently prys them open to reveal your clothed pussy, sopping wet.

You had a little bush there as well that you admittedly embarrassed about. You knew at some point he'd have to see but you were nervous, what if he thought it was gross? While you were busy worrying San began to give your clothed folds kitten licks. You gasp softly as he rests the side of his head against the inside of your upper thigh, his tongue still flicking your clit as he brought his hand up to trace your folds. He was really good at this.

"W-Wow, you've done this before," you chuckle softly as you lean back.

"I've had some practice," he shrugs before blowing on your clit. "Now let's see what you've been hiding so desperately," he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties and pulls them down. You blush softly and fight the urge to close your legs. "My, my, you're so wet baby," as San pulled off your panties you could see the damp spot in the center.

As the panties reached your ankles he gently lifted your foot by the back of your ankle to slide your foot out of one hole and then the other. He was so gentle with you and never let you do anything yourself; the definition of princess treatment. "Why were you so shy, look at this," he smirks as he slides a finger between your folds, parting them for him to see. "So wet and vibrant,"

You let out a whimper as he plays you like a fiddle, his tongue torturing your clit and his fingers dancing around your entrance but never making the commitment to dive in. "You're so patient," he pulls back with a little smirk to praise you. He continues to tease you mercilessly before finally committing to the bit. He dips a singular finger inside you and begins to explore around your warmth. "You're so tight baby," he murmurs into your folds, his voice low and muffled.

He brings a hand up to the underside of your thigh and lifts it on his shoulder. His finger rubs the deepest point of your pussy as his mouth laps at your folds, sucking and pulling the sensitive skin. The room fills with your sharp gasps and whimpers as he eats you out. He adds in another finger before beginning to thrust them into you, loosening you up for later.

"S-Sannie~" you moan and he grins mischievously. "I-I'm close..." you admit and San continues his dual assault on your pussy. "A-Ah san!" You cry out as your legs reflexively raise up, your hands fisting in his hair.

"Cmon baby," he flicks your clit back and forth with his tongue rapidly, determined to push you over the edge. Your body begins to tense, your eyes squinted shut, as your orgasm hits.

"San!" You cry out his name one last time before clenching your thighs around his head. His tongue and fingers never stop stimulating you, only slowing to ease you out of your climax. He kisses your clit softly before pulling back. The orgasm still lingers in your head and stomach.

"Good girl, good girl," he rubs your thighs softly as your body continues to shiver. San can't help but smile at how much you enjoyed his efforts. "Do you wanna keep going or are you all done for tonight?" His question makes you quickly jump back to your senses.

"I am far from done," you jump up and Sannie laughs.

"Alright, what do you have planned my love?" San sits up next to you on the couch. You think for a moment.

"Maybe...doggy style?" You blush softly and San's eyebrows lift slightly.

"Your wish is my command princess," San smiles before helping you to get into position. He goes on his knees behind you and grabs the base of his cock, guiding it to your slit. He rubs it up and down a few times. "Are you ready baby?" San confirms one last time and you nod.

He then slowly pushes past your tight warm walls. The two of you moan loudly in unison as you feel his cock stretching you out.

"Oh god," you moan softly as you try to form words to describe this feeling. "You're so big," you laugh softly but in reality, you were panicking because of how big he was. Could you take all this? San smirks softly before leaning down slightly, gently placing his hand around your throat.

"You like that? Feeling my big cock stretch out this tight little cunt?" He growls in your ear as your eyes roll back as he thrusts slow and deep.

"Mmm yes," you smile and you realize you must look like a total slut but right now you don't give a damn, not when he's balls deep inside you.

"You're such a good girl," he slightly tightens his grip on your throat before bringing his hand to your mouth. You lick his fingers gently and his eyes widen. "You're a kinky little girl~" he chuckles before picking up the speed of his hips. He bites the back of your shoulder and you let out a symphony of moans.

As he bites true neck he picks up a familiar scent from your skin and hair. Was that his soap? He had to know if it was true. "Did you use my products in the shower earlier?" He smirks softly the taste of your skin lingers in his mouth. You blush softly but it doesn't matter anymore, you were already fucking him.

"Yes, I did," you whimper softly as Sans hips stay steady. "I couldn't resist it," you admit and San laughs.

"It's alright babygirl, but next time you should let me shower with you, waste less products that way," he grins and you laugh softly even though he was still pounding into you.

"Will do," you bite your lip before San suddenly goes faster making you grab the couch harshly. "Shit!" You moan as you feel his hand tangle into your hair. "Choke me, baby," you cry out and San chuckles darkly. He brings his arm around the front of your neck, his inner elbow right at the center of your neck, and your eyes roll back. "Just like that," you breathe out.

"You like that baby?" He kisses the back of your head, his face buried in your frizzy hair. "Oh baby I'm gonna cum. Where do you want it?" He moans into your ear.

"Inside," you reply as you feel your walls gripping onto his cock for dear life.

"Nasty girl, I love it," he chuckles lowly before doubling his efforts, trying to pull you over the edge. "You are so good, you're gonna take it all, aren't you? My big load in your little pussy," he growls and you can't even reply, pure pleasure possessing your body. You claw at his arm, leaving red lines from your nails as the two of you cum. "Fuck, yes," he growls as you feel him explode inside you.

San unlocks your head from his arm and lets you rest against the couch as your juices mingle inside your pussy. "Good girl, I'm so proud of you," he showers you in kisses as he rubs your back.

"That was amazing," you breathe out and San chuckles. He gently pulls out with a wet pop and your mixed cum drizzles out like a cream donut. San gently licks up the cum before giving your ass a gently appreciative pat.

"Let's get you cleaned up babygirl," he effortlessly lifts you up into bridal style and takes you to the bathroom. He carefully sits you down on the toilet as he gets the shower running.

"So...about that showering together?" You chuckle softly as you feel something fuzzy rubbing up against your leg. You look down to see Muffin looking up at you before meowing.

#Spotify #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez part.2 #choi san #san smut #san ateez #ateez san #choi san smut

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neo-nomatrix · 6 months ago

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EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

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selfcarecap · 3 months ago

Text

Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask.

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #james logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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adimilkys · 2 months ago

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“Your ex has never made you what?”

Sylus x reader 18+ MDNI

cw : smut, f!reader, overstimulation, p in v, stomach bulge, oral (f receiving), no protection (wrap it before you tap it), petnames, biting and probably more

synopsis : after telling Sylus you "aren't able to orgasm" because you never did with your exes, he proves you very wrong

author's note : wrote this after work, idk how because I'm literally dying so there may be a lot of mistakes lol also english isn't my native so if you find and spelling mistakes whoops

You've been dating Sylus for over a month now, it's been an... interesting ride for sure. You're over the kissing stage and teasing, but you've never talked with him about sex- well until tonight.

"If you're not comfortable we don't have to, kitten" he whispered in your ear, you were both laying in his bed, you on top of him as he scratched your head.

"It's not that I'm not comfortable... it's just embarassing, Sy" You buried your face in his chest, he raised his eyebrow at your statement. "What's embarassing?"

At his question you buried your face deeper in his chest, knowing that you have to tell him either way. "I... just can't..." you mumbled

"You can't what, kitten? Come on, tell me."

"I-I can't orgasm..." he was quiet for a few seconds, before letting out a laugh. You raised yourself up from his chest, a pout on your face. "I'm serious, Sy!"

"And why do you think you can't orgasm?" He asked, gripping your waist. "W-Well everytime I got intimate, I was just never able to come-"

"And you think that's your fault?" He raised his eyebrow, looking into your eyes, making you look away with flushed cheeks. "Well yeah, I mean it's always me who can't cum" he grabbed your chin, making you look at him again.

"Sweetie, it's those pathetic men that couldn't make you cum" He started kissing your face, making you even more flustered "But-"

"Do you want me to prove it to you I can make you come minimum 5 times right now?" You stared at him with wide eyes, Sylus wasn't the one to break his promises, but you decided to play along.

"Hmph... All talk no action-" And with that, he slammed his lips on yours, capturing them in a messy kiss. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for access to your mouth. When you smirked, not opening your lips he bit it, making you gasp as he forced his tongue inside, immediately wrapping your tongues together.

You let out a moan, his hand sliding under your (his) shirt, squeezing your breasts. As you pulled your head away to breath, his lips continued assaulting now your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping on it- leaving many marks.

His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your tits "So fucking pretty" he whispered before latching onto one of your nipples. "S-Shit... Sylus-" you buried your hands in his hair, slightly pulling at it making him groan.

After being satisfied with the amount of marks he left on your breasts, he kissed down your stomach, lower and lower until he reached your shorts. "Tell me, kitten. Has someone ever eaten you out?" He raised his head up, staring at your face while you shook your head.

"Tsk... you've been messing around with immature boys, not real men sweetie" he said before sliding down your shorts right with your panties. "Such a pretty pussy, s'wet, all mine" with that he immediately dived in, groaning at the taste of your juice.

You moaned out his name loudly, one of your hands leaving his hair and now gripping onto the sheets. Your legs tied around his head. He sucked onto your clit, his tongue doing wonders. His hand moving to grab your thigh, squeezing it (probably leaving marks as well)

"Feels- so good!" You whined, throwing your head back as one of his fingers entered you, his fingers were so much bigger compared to yours (Which they also couldn't make you cum)

He followed that up with his second finger, stretching you out. Your moans were getting louder and your walls clenched around him. "Sylus! I- Ah!" you cried out before arching your back, letting out a silent scream as you came on his fingers and mouth, your eyes rolling back as you saw stars.

All your release ran down his throat, licking his lips before getting up from between your thighs. You were trying to catch your breath, your chest moving up and down.

"What did I tell you, sweetie?" he leaned down to your ear, nipping at it, "Four more to go" you shivered at his words, his hands grabbing your legs and raising them until your knees were touching your chest.

"Now relax f'me..." he grabbed his member, positioning it at your entrance, you didn't even realize he had taken his clothes off and oh

he was huge, thick too. Your eyes widened at his size, which he of course noticed, letting out a chuckle. "Worried I won't fit?" before you could even say anything, he pushed the tip in, knocking your breath out of your lungs.

Your nails digging into his back, he groaned at how tight you are "Sy..." You whined at the stretch, suddenly his fingers pinched your clit, the pain of the stretch and pleasure of his fingers made you scream, once again- making you climax.

As you were panting he continued his torture on your clit, pushing himself in even deeper, not even halfway in but making you feel like he's in your lungs.

"Fuck... Three more, kitten." after a bit more pushing, he finally bottomed out, you were already so cockdrunk, feeling all of him, every twitch and vein. He waited a bit, making sure you adjust before moving.

Starting off slow, making sure you feel comfortable, he looked at your face, sweat rolling down your forehead, hair stuck to your face, tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes closed shut and mouth hanging open as you moaned.

You looked so fucking beautiful, he lowered his head, hand grabbing your chin as he slammed his lips on yours, not wasting any time as his tongue entered and explored your mouth. His thrusts speeding up, your moans getting louder.

Suddenly, his cock hit your sweet spot, making you gasp. He smirked at your reaction, angling toward it, making sure to hit it again, again and again. You sobbed, biting your lip as you felt another ogarsm coming, clenching around his member.

"shit shit shit- Sy-Sylus!" you screamed as you came for the third time, already feeling so overstimulated. "N-No more- I can't-" You begged, whining.

"Shhh... two more sweetie" He wiped your tears away, leaving kisses all over your face. He suddenly pulled out, making you gasp as he flipped you onto your stomach, not wasting any second- slamming right back inside you.

"FUCK-" You gripped the pillow, burying your face in it, muffling your moans. His brows furrowed, groaning as he gripped your hips, pounding into you.

"W-Well, none of that sweetie, I want to hear you-" He chuckled, pulling you up so you were on his lap, his chest pressed against your back as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

Your head was hanging low, that's when you saw the huge bulge in your lower stomach disappearing and reappearing over and over. You were barely holding up with his pace.

His mouth once again started attacking your mouth, hiding his own sounds as he was getting closer himself, the way your pussy was clenching around him felt godly. The way your tits bounced, the way drool was dripping from the corner of your lips.

"C'mon... two more..." it was insane how many times he was able to make you cum. With his fingers back on your clit, you threw your head on his shoulder and with a cry you came once again, the only reason you haven't fallen forward being that Sylus is holding your waist.

Within a few thrusts, he came too with a choked moan- filling you up with his warm cum.

After catching his breath, he pulled out, flipping you on your back once again, you barely lifted your head, looking at him with confusion written on your face.

"One more... or maybe two more?" He smirked, going back to your cunt with his mouth.

requests are open, feel free to send your prompts

#adimilkys writes #sylus x you #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus smut #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #lads sylus #love and deepspace #lnds smut #lnds #l&ds #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader

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tinystarbites · 2 months ago

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accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that��ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

#tinywrites #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #tinywrites:accidents #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader

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lemonlover1110 · 11 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband was an heir, and you have to fulfill the order.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spitting, slight use of tummy mouth, double penetration, tit sucking (and biting), breeding kink, degrading, sukuna is... sukuna but fluffier to his wife

*he's been on my mind lately and I'm going insane

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want an heir.” Sukuna brings up one fateful night as you walk over to lay down beside him. It’s not a request, it’s an order that you must fulfill, just like everything that involves Sukuna. Strangely enough, Sukuna has been the one that’s been delaying having a child since you’ve been nearly begging him to have a baby with him for the past year. It seems he’s finally given in to the idea though.

“What was that, Suku?” You ask, stopping in your tracks because he’s caught you off guard. He stands up from where he lays, towering over you. You look up at him, waiting for him to repeat himself but you should know better than anyone that your husband doesn’t like to repeat himself. But this time he does,

“It’s about time you give me an heir.” Which makes a smile spread across your face because it’s what you’ve been wanting. Sukuna has been the one that has been refusing to have a child so you don’t understand why he words it like that– But either way, you’re happy and ready to fulfill his every need. Before you can even agree to his order, his bottom hands are undoing your robe to get you undressed while his mouth goes down to your lips.

Sukuna has grown accustomed to kissing you, and handling your body more gently since you’ve asked him to. Compared to the beginning, he treats you like a petal. You like to think it’s his way of expressing his love for you since he’s not very vocal about it, and you know he doesn’t particularly enjoy kissing. His tongue meets yours while his hands try to undo the robe without tearing the fabric into pieces since he knows it’s one of your favorites.

He bites down on your lip causing a cry to leave your throat while he gives up on properly taking off your robe. You hear as the fabric rips, and maybe another time you would be upset about it but you’re too consumed by him to care. He’ll just get you another one. His two lower hands roam down your bare body. One hand gropes your breasts, his rough fingers pinching your nipples. He gets to your cunt, lightly slapping it before he runs two fingers through your cunt.

He pulls away from the kiss, letting your soft moans into the air when he begins to play with your clit. Sex for him has always been a selfish act but ever since his first night with you, he’s found pleasure in pleasing you. The sound of your moans in the air while he toys with you is the sweetest melody. He found it dumb at first, but now there are nights where he’s simply buried between your thighs with the purpose of making you come as much as he can.

Sukuna picks you up and puts you down on the bed. Taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful his wife looks when she’s under him. Fuck, you’re so fucking small compared to him. It’s nothing new, really, all the people that Sukuna has been with are miniscule compared to him. But he just loves the way that you look under him since he’s never seen a more beautiful human being. He’d never tell that to you though.

Sukune begins to tease your entrance, threatening to push a finger into your cunt but he doesn’t. He runs his fingers through your folds, while his thumb plays with your clit. He lowers his head, his tongue circling your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.

“Can you put a finger in, Suku? Please…” You ask him, your needy cunt in need of his fingers inside of you. He bites down on your nipple, causing a cry to leave your lips before he unlatches and lifts his head up.

“I hate beggars.” Sukuna reminds you, and you’re about to apologize but he shoves three fingers into your mouth, gagging you with them before you can even get a word out. He really knows you better than anyone. “My woman doesn’t apologize to anyone either. Not even her own husband.”

Sukuna finally pushes two fingers inside your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers are just so fucking big, and they reach every right spot. Sukuna feels you moan around his fingers before he takes them out of your mouth. He curves the fingers inside your cunt so they hit against your sweet spot. One hand goes to your breasts, and he begins to play with your nipples.

“It feels so good, Suku.” You moan, your back arching as pleasure consumes you. Sukuna’s multiple hands are… Everything.

He takes his fingers out of your cunt, moving the wet digits down to your asshole. He spits down on your cunt and spreads his saliva down. He presses his fingers against your asshole as he lowers his head. He kisses from your lower abdomen to your pussy, where his tongue then runs through your folds and then up to your clit. His tongue begins to flick your clit while he pushes two fingers into your asshole, making you moan loudly.

“Fuck– Fuck!” You yell, as Sukuna also pushes two fingers into your cunt again. It’s like music to Sukuna’s ears. It’s too much for you, two fingers in your ass, two in your pussy, and his tongue on your clit. Both holes squeeze around his fingers as his tongue lays flat on your clit.

“Sukuna! Shit, it’s so fucking good.” You bite down your lip, trying to not bring too much attention to yourself. Unluckily for you, as soon as Sukuna knows that you’re making yourself quiet, he stops. He lifts his head up and takes his fingers out of your pussy and asshole, leaving your holes to clench around nothing.

“I want my woman to be loud. Don’t be a fucking bitch, do you hear me?” Sukuna kneels, towering over you again and you nod in response. You use your forearm to hold yourself up and look at him. He undoes his robe, and you lick your lips as you watch your husband get completely naked. Your thighs come together as your eyes fall on his two thick cocks, feeling excitement consume you. Sukuna smirks, watching you prompt yourself up to get his cocks in your mouth. He stops you, his hand going on your chin. “You’re a cute little bitch… You’ll be okay. You can handle them both, right?”

“Yes, lord.” You nod in response, and Sukuna treats you as if you were a doll– More gently than he would treat an actual doll but he moves you as if you were one. He forces you to hold your legs to your chest, and the large tongue on his mouth licks your pussy, and moves down to your asshole. He’ll be sweet with you, especially since you brought back the name that you hadn’t used since your marriage.

The tongue teases the entrance of your asshole but Sukuna stops before anything else happens. He lays his cocks down on your lower abdomen, and you deeply inhale. You wonder how it’ll fit inside of you, but it always fits so you shouldn’t worry.

Sukuna doesn’t bother teasing the cock that goes in your pussy, immediately pushing it in which causes a loud moan to leave your lips. He doesn’t waste time in putting the second cock in your ass, and once you’re stuffed with him, he begins to move. He’s gentler with his thrusts this time, which you certainly appreciate since he didn’t give you time to adjust.

He’s grown impatient with the idea of you giving him an heir, he can’t waste anymore time. And fuck, he just needs to feel you wrapped around his cocks. You don’t seem to be struggling either way, quite the opposite, you moan in pleasure with his every movement.

“I’m going to fill your womb up with my seed, and you’re going to give me what I deserve.” Sukuna says through gritted teeth to not let out another sound that hints at how good you’re making him feel. Sukuna will never say anything that could hint at him being happy with someone else– The most you’ve ever gotten from him was a marriage… order. Sukuna didn’t propose marriage, he simply told you that you two would be getting married. But you know that the face that he’s making and the way he talks, he’s feeling good.

“I’ll give you what you want, lord.” You respond as his cocks hits every right spot, filling you with so much pleasure. His thrusts pick up speed, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. Sukuna’s hand begins to play with your clit, and you begin to squeeze around him even more, causing him to hiss. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you big and round with his child. Sukuna can’t wait for his seed to bless your womb and all the changes that it’ll bring to your body. He can’t wait to steal some of the milk that’s meant for his child.

“Going to fill you up with my child.” Sukuna groans as you squeeze around his cocks. It’s too much for you, especially after he’s worked you up. You’re loudly moaning his name, just like he wants you to. He wants the servants to hear how he pleases his woman. It’s all too much for you since he’s filling up both of your holes and toying with your clit.

You shut your eyes, and see white as you squirt all over him, causing a chuckle to leave his throat. He lightly slaps your clit as you make a mess all over him. Sukuna can’t help but praise you for it, which is definitely something rare, “That’s my good wife.”

Sukuna bites his tongue, loving how tight and warm your holes feel. But you won’t get a noise out of him. His hand goes to your throat, however, it just rests there while his thumb presses against your lips, “The only woman worthy of carrying my child.”

Sukuna gets rougher with his thrusts as his release approaches. The thought of you carrying his baby makes him go insane. He’ll make sure it happens soon, he’ll fuck you every night until there’s confirmation that you’re expecting his successor.

He mutters your name before he fills you up with his cum. He doesn’t dare to pull out until both of your holes are completely filled with his seed. When Sukuna pulls out, he lays down beside you. He brings you into his embrace while you take deep breaths.

Sukuna kisses the top of your head, one of his hands running up and down your back. Maybe Sukuna hasn’t exactly been fond of kissing before, but it’s definitely his favorite thing to do with you now.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

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hxxsxxng · 5 months ago

Text

Past Wounds, Present Hearts P.SH

「Pairing」 : exbully!sunghoon x fem!reader

「Word Count」 : 10.5k

「Genre」 : smut, angst, somewhat fluff, college au

「Summary」 : you have felt resentment for sunghoon ever since the hell he put you through in middle school. now you find out he goes to your university.... and he's kinda hot?

「Warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! mentions of bullying, lower quality of life due to bullying, self doubt, mentions of drinking alcohol, implied intoxication in some scenes, college parties, sunghoon calls reader petnames, kissing, sharing a bed, nipple play, fingering, titty sucking, handjob, sunghoon turns out to be a sweetheart, cum eating, falling asleep together, and more

「Authors Note」 : i originally intended for the story to have a different ending but i changed my mind half way though and it would have been too fast paced for the word count given, i will definitely make a part two if enough people ask! not proofread

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I hate him. The smug look on his face when I walk pass him in the main campus hall. All of the girls clawing on to his shoulder, begging for his attention without knowing what fucking loser he is. The way all of the professors are so impressed with him for doing practically nothing in class. Getting a full ride scholarship for basketball to this school. I have grown sick of it.

Park Sunghoon. The name still twists my stomach after all these years. Middle school was when my hatred started for Him. He was my middle school bully. Always teasing me in front of the whole class, or making comments behind my back. What hurts the most is that he doesn’t seem to care that he used to act this way, or maybe he thinks I have forgotten. The truth is, I will never forget. It sits at the back of my mind all of the time. The people who know me from middle school still view me as this ‘disgusting’ girl who was unlikeable, because of the things that Sunghoon would do to me.

It took years for me to build myself back up, so when I saw that he was planning on going to the same university as me last fall, I was more than worried. But this wasn’t middle school anymore. I can’t let him get away with treating me like an outcast who doesn’t deserve friends.First semester of university is always scary, I was always afraid to come out my shell and meet new people. I wanted to stay on top of acedemics. My best friend Yuqi was the complete opposite. Any opportunity she got to go out and party, she would be there. And, she would surprisingly maintain decent grades as well. Now that I think about it, I have never been a party goer, not even in highschool. Then again, there weren’t too many parties that either sounded interesting, or that I was invited to.

“Kappa Alpha is having a party this Friday, you in?” Yuqi suggested. She always gets the same response. “No, you already know I can’t, we have finals next week” I shrugged. “But Kappaaaaaa!” Yuqi whined, her voice getting higher every passing second. We were walking down the hallway towards our classes. A few students looked over, but quickly decided that they didn’t want to look any further. “I hear that Kappa Alpha has the best Christmas parties every year. You have to come” Yuqi insisted, grabbing onto my arm. I rolled my eyes. “Yuqi… You don’t actually think I’m going to attend one of their parties?” Yuqi gave me a confused stare, trying to read through my expression. “Why not?” “Sunghoon is in that frat, I’m pretty sure he lives in the frat house as well. You would catch me dead before seeing me step foot into that trashy hell hole” I explained, crossing my arm defensively. She knows how he treated me in middle school, she was there to witness it.

“What? He can’t be, out of all the parties I have gone to there, I have not seen him a singular time” Yuqi said with her eyebrows furrowed, putting emphasis into each word.. I tried to tell her that yes, he is the type of guy to hide out in the frat house and not attend, but she had no idea. After some debate, she eventually gave up asking me.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily above me. Yuqi's words echoed in my mind, mixing with memories I'd rather forget. The Christmas lights strung across my dorm room cast a soft glow, but they did little to brighten my mood.

I rolled onto my side, hugging my pillow close. Why did Sunghoon have to be here, at my university, in my space? It wasn't fair. I'd worked so hard to leave that part of my life behind, to become someone new. Someone stronger.

But was I really stronger if I was still letting him dictate my choices? I grabbed my phone, thumb hovering over Yuqi's contact. She was probably out somewhere, living it up like she always did. I envied her sometimes, her ability to just… exist without all this baggage.

"Maybe I should go," I whispered to the empty room. The words felt foreign on my tongue. Me? At a Kappa Alpha party? It was absurd.

I sat up, running a hand through my messy hair. Yuqi would be ecstatic if I went. And isn't that what college is supposed to be about? New experiences, stepping out of your comfort zone?

But then I imagined walking into that frat house, the pulsing music, the crowded rooms. And somewhere in there, Sunghoon. Everybody loving him not knowing the kind of cruel person he is on the inside. My stomach clenched at the thought.

"This is stupid," I muttered, flopping back onto my bed. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone."

But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't true. I did need to prove something - to myself. That I could face my past, that I could exist in the same space as Sunghoon without falling apart.

I picked up my phone again, this time opening my messages to Yuqi. "Hey," I typed, then paused. Was I really doing this? My finger hovered over the send button as doubt crept in. But then I thought of Yuqi's excited face, of the possibility of actually enjoying myself for once.

Before I could change my mind, I quickly typed out the rest of the message and hit send. "Hey. About that Kappa Alpha party… I think I might go after all." I set my phone down, my heart racing. What had I just agreed to?Yuqi didn’t see my message until the morning, but I can only imagine her physical reaction after reading her written one. “Really???? I never thought this day would come. I promise you will love it!!!” my screen read. Her overuse of punctuation was telling enough about she felt. It was Friday morning, meaning that the party was going to be later in tonight. If I plan my time correctly, we can leave my dorm around 8pm, and I would have had all of the studying done that at I needed to do for the night.

I couldn’t help feeling nervous at the thought of attending a party with Sunghoon, but I decided that this may be the perfect chance to get to know him better. Okay, not ‘get to know him better’ but maybe this could finally give him a chance to clear the air between us, to apologize properly for everything that he did to me. But the chances of him apologizing are slim to none. When I see him in campus he seems to be the snobby type, unable to admit that they are wrong. Trust me, I have heard the stories going around campus.

I spent the rest of the day in a fog, my mind drifting between lectures and study sessions. The impending party loomed over me, a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

By the time I returned to my dorm, the sun was already setting. I sat at my desk, attempting to review my notes, but the words blurred together. My phone buzzed - another excited text from Yuqi about outfit choices. I sighed, closing my textbook. There was no point in pretending to study anymore.

~~~~~

At 7:00, a knock at my door announced Yuqi's arrival. She entered with her usual whirlwind energy, arms full of clothes and makeup. "Okay," she said, dumping everything onto my bed. "Let's make you look amazing."

I eyed the pile warily. "Yuqi, I'm not trying to impress anyone. Especially not Sunghoon." She paused, giving me a soft look. "This isn't about him. It's about you feeling good about yourself. Now, let's start with this sweater."

For the next half hour, we sifted through outfits. Yuqi was patient, letting me veto anything too revealing or flashy. We finally settled on a soft, cropped sweater and high-waisted jeans - comfortable, but still party-appropriate.

As I changed, Yuqi chatted about her day, her excitement for the party. Her casual banter helped ease my nerves, reminding me why I'd agreed to this in the first place. This was about spending time with my best friend, not about Sunghoon.

We left my dorm at 8:15, the cool night air a welcome relief for my flushed cheeks. The walk to the frat house was short, but with each step, the butterflies in my stomach intensified. Music pulsed in the distance, growing louder as we approached.

Outside the house, we paused. Yuqi squeezed my hand. "You okay?" she asked, her voice gentle.

I took a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah. Let's do this."

We stepped inside, and I was immediately overwhelmed. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and too many bodies in too small a space. Yuqi leaned close, "I'm going to get us some drinks. Will you be okay for a minute?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. As she disappeared into the crowd, I stood there, taking in my surroundings. Groups of people clustered around, laughing and dancing. I recognized a few faces from classes, but no one I knew well.

And then, across the room, I saw him. Sunghoon, leaning against a wall, surrounded by his usual admirers. He was laughing at something someone said, his head thrown back. For a moment, I was transported back to middle school, hearing that laugh directed at me, mocking and cruel.

Our eyes met for a brief second, and I swear I saw something flicker in his expression. Surprise? Recognition? But before I could process it, someone bumped into me, breaking the moment.

I turned away, my heart pounding. What was I doing here? This was a mistake. I was about to head for the door when Yuqi reappeared, pressing a red cup into my hand.

"Here," she said with a smile. "It'll help you relax." I took a small sip, the unfamiliar burn of alcohol hitting the back of my throat. As we stood there, Yuqi chatting animatedly about the people around us, I felt myself slowly start to unwind. Maybe agreeing to come here wasn’t too bad of an idea.I was just starting to relax, the music and Yuqi's chatter creating a comfortable bubble around us, when I saw him approaching. Sunghoon, weaving through the crowd, his eyes fixed on... us? No, it couldn't be. But it was.

He stopped right in front of us, that infuriatingly perfect smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Yuqi," he said, his voice smooth as ever. Then his eyes slid to me. "And Y/N,… it's been a while, hasn't it?" I felt my body tense, my grip tightening on the red cup in my hand. Yuqi glanced between us, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of concern. "Sunghoon," I managed to say, my voice coming out colder than I'd intended. But then again, why should I care? He seemed unfazed by my tone. "I didn't expect to see you here. You're not usually the party type, right?" The casual way he said it, as if he knew me, as if we were old friends catching up, made my blood boil. How dare he act so nonchalant after everything? "People change," I replied curtly. "Not that you'd know anything about that." I avoided eye contact. I saw Yuqi wince beside me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Sunghoon's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of... something passing across his face. Confusion? Hurt? Good.

"Right," he said, recovering quickly. Looking down at the ground with a half smile, he takes my snarky response as a que to leave. “I’ll see you around, (Y/N)” he scoffs and walks away.

“He is such an asshole” Yuqi complains, rubbing my back as a way to try to comfort me. “You responded well” I watched Sunghoon's tall, muscular figure get lost in the crowd, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me felt satisfied with how I'd handled the encounter, but another part felt... unsettled. I took a long swig from my cup, hoping the alcohol would dull the conflicting feelings. "Thanks," I mumbled to Yuqi, grateful for her support. She gave me a reassuring smile, but I could see the concern in her eyes. "Do you want to leave? We can if you're not comfortable." I considered it for a moment. The idea of going back to my dorm, burying myself in my blankets and pretending this night never happened, was tempting. But then I thought about how that's exactly what the old me would have done. The me that let Sunghoon's actions dictate her life.

"No," I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. "I'm not leaving. I have just as much right to be here as he does." Yuqi's face broke into a wide grin. "That's my girl!" she cheered, linking her arm through mine. "Let's mingle a bit, shall we?" As we made our way through the crowded room, I couldn't help but notice Sunghoon's gaze following us. Every time I glanced in his direction, he looked away, but not before I caught a flicker of... something in his eyes. It wasn't the cruel amusement I remembered from our school days. It was something else, something I couldn't quite place.

Yuqi introduced me to a few of her friends, and I found myself actually enjoying the conversations. It felt... normal. Like maybe I could do this whole college social scene thing after all. But then, over someone's shoulder, I saw Sunghoon again. He was looking right at us, his expression unreadable. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt a jolt of... something. Before I could analyze it further, he quickly averted his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Wait, was Sunghoon blushing? I shook off the thought. It was probably just the alcohol playing tricks on my mind.

As the night wore on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The alcohol helped, but it was more than that. Every minute I spent here, laughing with Yuqi and her friends, was a minute I was reclaiming for myself. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every so often, I'd catch Sunghoon looking in my direction. But it wasn't the mocking stare I was used to. There was something almost... wistful about it. Once, when our eyes met, he even offered a small, hesitant smile before quickly turning the other way. I don’t understand why he is trying to smile at me. It was confusing, to say the least. This wasn't the Sunghoon I remember. The Sunghoon who had made my life miserable. This Sunghoon seemed... different. Unsure. Almost vulnerable. As Yuqi and I were preparing to leave, I excused myself to use the bathroom. On my way back, I quite literally bumped into Sunghoon in the hallway. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, steadying me with a hand on my arm. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through me. "You okay?" I nodded, unsureness in my voice. We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us. "Listen, Y/N," he started, then paused, running a hand through his jet black hair. "I... I'm glad you came tonight. It was good to see you."

Before I could respond, he quickly walked away, leaving me standing there, completely baffled. It wasn't until much later, as Yuqi and I were stumbling back to our dorms, arms linked and giggling about nothing in particular, that I realized something. For the first time in years, I'd spent an entire evening in the same space as Sunghoon without letting it ruin my night. And more than that, I was left with the strangest feeling that maybe there was more to Sunghoon than I'd allowed myself to see. As I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted but oddly content, I couldn't help but feel like something had shifted. I wasn't naive enough to think one party had erased years of hurt and resentment. But maybe it was a start.

~~~~~

The next morning I woke up disoriented, borderline hungover. Roll over to the side to check the time on my phone. 11:09AM? It honestly felt like I slept for three days with how many drinks I consumed. I look further down the screen to see the notifications:

1:18 AM: @prksnghn02 started following you!

1:19 AM: @prksnghn02 Liked your post!

I must have fallen asleep to quickly too see this last night, but that was definitely right after we left the party.

I scroll through the conversation, smiling slightly at the messages

2:11 AM: @prksnghn02 Hey! You still here?

2:11 AM: @prksnghn02 I get it if you don’t want to speak to me.

Why was he messaging me. What gives him the right? I igonore the message and delete the message request. All that before my thumb hesitantly hovered over the follow button on his profile, eventually turning it grey. I spent the weekend as usual, going to my job at night and studying in the mornings. Though I had the awkward interaction with Sunghoon at one party, I think that I could see myself going with Yuqi to another party some time. Not soon though because finals start on Monday and I have to pass to keep my financial aid. That’s another thing that pisses me off. I work day and night to pay for my schooling by myself, and Sunghoon gets it all handed to him for being okay at basketball. He teased me for growing up less wealthy than him, but if he were in my shoes, he wouldn’t have thought it was so funny.

Monday morning I was walking through the main hall on campus, where they have to coffee shop that I occasionally stop by. Of course this time when I went, Sunghoon was standing at the bookstore across the walk way, talking to his girl-toys. It took everything in me to not make things awkward by looking in his direction, but for the split second I looked that way, he was already eyeing me down. I pretended to not notice, continuing into the coffee shop line as I would do normally. The line was fairly short. I looked down at my phone to distract myself until it was my turn to order. “I am sorry (Y/N)” a familiar voice says behind me, him lightly grazing my shoulder.

My eyes immediately snap to the owner of the voice. His brown eyes were staring directly into mine as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking just by looking at me. And I know he can. ‘Hey’ he seems to say, flashing me the smallest of smirks as his hand rests on the counter to my left. I scoff in disbelief. He really is serious now isn’t he. I try to ignore him and continue with my order, but Sunghoon stops me in my tracks. My heart starts hammering harder in my chest as I glance around to make sure no one overheard. “Hey (Y/N),” he repeats, giving me his infamous smirk. “I really am sorry” he continues. He’s watching me with a curious tilt to his head as he waits for my response.

“Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we can talk some more?” For a fraction of a moment, it’s hard to believe what’s happening.

“Whatever you are trying to do, I don’t want any part of it” I said sternly, trying to shoo him away. I know he could see the annoyance on my face but that wasn’t enough to get him to leave. “Please, I want to make things right” he begged with a hint of charm in his voice. He reaches out to hold my wrist but this time instead of swatting him away, I let him. If anyone deserves an apology it should be me. He takes a step closer to me, tilting his head slightly. “Fine I guess, but do not expect to get anything out of me” I agreed hesitantly. His facial expression completely changed from worried to… relieved? We ordered together in line while I tried my best to ignore him. His scent was a distraction. It was captivating. It was comparable to mohagany and mint. Admittedly, he is tall and handsome, even when we were in middle school he had always been cute. But I would never say that out loud. Eventually, his named was called and we both went up to grab our drinks. “Thank you Sunghoon” I said while looking down, trying to get out of the situation as soon a possible. “Wait” he says before I get to far away. “I will text you” he added. I half way smiled and walked away.

~~~~~

At lunch, I found myself leaning against Yuqi as we sat at one of our tables outside. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Better” I admitted. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I think I’m doing better” She nodded, seemingly satisfied by my reply.

“Yuqi?” I spoke again once I had my full attention back on her. She turned her attention towards me expectantly.

“Why don’t you give him another chance?” she sighed, rolling her neck around. “I mean, he seems like he is genuinely trying to make it up to you.”

“Yes he is putting in the effort now, but the pain that he put me through doesn’t just go away in an instant, it will take time for me to trust him”

“I understand” she muttered.

~~~~~

A few days had passed but I had never received a message from Sunghoon. Maybe he forgot or maybe he was scared…. I don’t know. But I can’t help but to think that I was maybe looking forward to that message. Yuqi was right, maybe he does deserve another chance. The library was my number one studying location. It was quiet, I could focus, and nobody bothers me. I actually have some time to myself. I have tested out every study area here and the to floor is by far my favorite. I press the 5 on the elevator control pad, and as the doors start closing, someone’s hand is placed between the doors, causing them to shoot back open. It was Sunghoon. I awkwardly scoot to the edge of the confined space to make sure there was more than enough room between us. His eyes light up when he realizes I was the one in the elevator.

“Would it be a problem if I rode with you?” he asked hesitatingly with an awkward smile.

“No, why would there be a problem?” I replied quickly. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds after my answer, and then I heard the elevator ding and the doors slowly start closing again. God, being around him gave me mixed emotions. His aura is so captivating, but his personality is the opposite. And not to mention that mohagany scent again. We rode to the fifth floor in total silence and exited the elevator once it stopped. When we both made way out of the elevator to walk our own directions, He gently grazed my shoulder and said “Good luck with finals” and walked the other direction.

Later that same evening while I was still on the library, my phone pinged with a new notification.

prksnghn02: Hey are you available?

prksnghn02: I know I said I was sorry but I really want you to know how I feel. I can’t do it over text.

I think this is the message that I have been waiting to see. I would appreciate to see him and have him fully apologize, though I don’t think this is the right time. It’s the middle of finals week and lord knows I am already struggling as is. I look up from my phone, observing my surroundings, and spot Sunghoon across the almost empty room lounging on a library bean-bag. Alone. That’s a first considering his royalty equivalent status on campus. He was clearly looking at me when I opened his message.

yourusername: Hey, sorry. I really need to study for this Sociology final. I can definitely carve out a time to meet next week.

I look up at him and point at my phone, making a frowny face and his expression mirrors mine.

prksnghn02: Who is the professor? I aced my sociology class I took over the summer. If you need any help lmk.

He looks at me with a thumbs up. His offer seems tempting, but what would I do? Sit there and hear him lecture me? It would already be hard enough to pay attention given how his arms are looking in that black fitted top.

yourusername: I will think about it.

I try to focus on my sociology notes, but my eyes keep drifting back to Sunghoon. He's still lounging on the bean bag, but now he has a textbook open on his lap. Every so often, he glances up, catching my eye before we both quickly look away. The tension is palpable, even from across the room. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This is getting ridiculous. I'm here to study, not to play this weird game of cat and mouse with my former bully turned... what? Potential friend? The thought makes me uncomfortable. I make a split second decision on impulse and grab my phone, maybe regretting my decision later.

yourusername: Okay fine, come help me.

I witness Sunghoon look at his phone and shoot up out of his seat within the span of 3 seconds. Impressive. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as Sunghoon practically skidded to a stop in front of my desk. It was a stark contrast to his usual nonchalance. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, I was back in middle school, his laughter echoing in the halls, the same laughter that used to sting.

“So, sociology huh?” he said with the most awkward tone possible. “What do you need help with” he continues, signaling his hand towards my messy notes. My notebook has definitely seen better days. I sighed, shoving my phone into the abyss of my backpack.

"Everything feels like gibberish. Professor Ramirez throws these massive lectures at us, and it all just blends together." Surprised laughter rumbled out of him.

"Ramirez? Yeah, he can be a bit much. But trust me, sociology isn't actually that complicated. Let's see your notes." Tentatively, I slid my well-worn notebook across the desk. He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing in concentration. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rustle of turning paper. I snuck a peek at him. His features were softened by a focus I wouldn't have expected. "Okay," he finally said, looking up. "This isn't so bad. You've got the basic concepts down. I think you're just getting overwhelmed by the details."

Relief flooded me. Maybe I wasn't completely incompetent after all. He settled into the chair across from me, his arm brushing mine for a moment as he reached for a pen. He continued to sort through my notes, trying to piece together what I may not be understanding. He was surprisingly patient with me, and even created examples for me to try and understand better. Not to mention that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him as he spoke. His black hair falling loosely in front of his dark brown eyes and black glasses was so sexy.

"So basically, social stratification is like the ranking system within a society?" I summarized, feeling a flicker of accomplishment. Sunghoon grinned, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Exactly! See, you were getting it all along." He paused, then reached for a specific page in my notes.

"Now, let's talk about power structures and how they influence social mobility…" Time melted away as Sunghoon patiently guided me through the sociological knowledge. I peppered him with questions, surprised by my own comfort level.

He answered them all with good humor and a surprising depth of knowledge that made him seem worlds apart from the bully I knew in middle school and the jock he is now. I looked at his face once again, admiring the way he furrowed his eye brows when he concentrated. I am snapped out of my trance with

“What?” Sunghoon questioned me, tilting his face to the side. I couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until a second or two later.

“Nothing! It’s nothing. Go on with what you were saying” I averted my eyes towards the table to try and hide the blood in my cheeks. “Heh, Okay….” he chuckles fiddling with the ring on his finger. He pauses for a few seconds and picks up with “You should get home soon. You don’t wanna have late nights, right?”

He looks me dead in the eye as he says this, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. I glanced at my phone, startled to see it was already 1 AM. We'd been studying for hours without realizing it. The library, usually bustling with stressed students, was now eerily quiet.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize how late it got," I mumbled, hastily gathering my notes. Sunghoon stretched, his shirt riding up slightly. I pretended not to notice.

"Yeah, time flies when you're having fun with sociology, right?" he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips. "Right, because power structures are just a barrel of laughs." As we packed up our things, Sunghoon hesitated, then asked, "Hey, um, would you like me to walk you back to your dorm? It's pretty late." I paused, considering. The old me would have immediately refused, not wanting to spend an extra second with him.

But now... "Sure," I found myself saying. "That would be nice." We stepped out into the cool night air, the campus very quiet around us. For a moment, we walked in silence, the only sound our footsteps on the pavement.

"So," Sunghoon started, breaking the silence. "Did you find the study session helpful?" I nodded, surprised by my own honesty.

"Yeah, actually. You explain things... differently than I expected." He raised an eyebrow.

"Different good or different bad?"

"Different good," I admitted. "You're more... patient than I thought you'd be." Sunghoon chuckled softly. "Well, don't sound so surprised. Im not just a handsome face ya know.” I felt a retort forming on my lips, but bit it back.

“Yeah yeah, don’t flatter yourself.” As we walked, I couldn't help but sneak glances at him. In the soft glow of the street lamps, he looked... different. Softer somehow. Less like the arrogant boy I'd built up in my mind and more like... well, just a guy. "You know," he said suddenly, his voice quiet. "I meant what I said before. About being sorry." I felt my body tense. "Sunghoon, we don't have to-"

"No, please," he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. I turned to face him, surprised by the earnestness in his eyes. "I was a jerk in middle school. More than a jerk. I was cruel, and I've regretted it for years. I just... I want you to know that. I am sorry." I stood there, stunned. This vulnerability was so at odds with the Sunghoon I thought I knew.

"I... thank you," were the only words that were able to come out of my mouth. - I turned to face towards him as we reached the enterance of my dorm building. “Okay, I guess I can take it from here�� I said, grabbing my key card out of my backpack.

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.” I entered the building and the door was already halfway closed before Sunghoon grabbed it and called out behind me, "Wait!” I stopped mid step and turned to meet his curious gaze, confused by what he could possibly want to say. I gave him a questioning look as he approached me slowly. His hands fidgeted nervously, and he took one last glance around, making sure no one was watching before reaching up to touch my cheek hesitantly. His thumb brushed the area under my eye lightly, his hand moving downwards slowly until he rested his palm flat on my jaw. I was somehow okay with this, despite the butterflies in my stomach.

My heart thudded loudly against my chest as I stared at his hand resting gently on my skin, unable to tear my gaze away from his. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into me with an intensity I have never felt. “Have a good night, (Y/N)” he said softly, grazing my bottom lip with his thumb. He leaned down slowly while gazing into my eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. My breath hitched as he brought his other hand up and cradled my cheek, brushing some loose strands of hair out of my face. “You too, Sunghoon”

~~~~~

The end of finals week had finally come and I am not exaggerating when I say that this is the most relieved I have ever been in my life. I was lounging on my bed scrolling through tik tok and I saw a message pop up at the top of my screen.

prksnghn02: Hey! A few of us are having a small get-together at the frat house to celebrate surviving finals. You and Yuqi should come.

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. A month ago, I would've immediately declined. But now… things were different. The study session with Sunghoon, our late-night walk, the way he'd touched my face before saying goodnight - it all swirled in my mind, a confusing mix of old resentment and new… something.

yourusername: Let me check with Yuqi. What time?

His response was almost immediate.

prksnghn02: Around 8? It's just a few people, nothing crazy. Promise it won't be like last time.

I couldn't help but smile at that. The last party had been a turning point, in a way.

yourusername: Okay, I'll let you know.

I rolled over, dialing Yuqi's number. She picked up on the second ring.

"Please tell me you're calling to drag me out of this post-finals funk," she groaned.

I laughed. "Actually, yeah. Sunghoon invited us to a small thing at the frat house. You in?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Sunghoon, huh? You two seem to be getting along better."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "We're… working on it," I admitted. "So, you coming or what?"

"Obviously," she said. "I'll be at yours in an hour. We need to talk about this Sunghoon situation, by the way."

I groaned. "There's no 'situation', Yuqi."

"Uh-huh. Sure. See you soon!"

She hung up before I could protest further. I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

An hour later, Yuqi was sprawled on my bed, watching me rummage through my closet.

"So," she said, drawing out the word. "You and Sunghoon, huh?"

I threw a shirt at her. "There's no 'me and Sunghoon'. We're just… I don't know. Not enemies anymore, I guess."

Yuqi sat up, her expression serious. "Look, I know he was awful to you in middle school. But people change, you know? And he seems to be really trying."

I sighed, sitting down next to her. "I know. It's just… complicated."

She bumped my shoulder with hers. "Life's complicated. Doesn't mean you can't give it a chance."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Yuqi always had a way of cutting through my defenses.

"Now," she said, her tone lightening. "Let's find you something cute to wear. Just because it's not a 'situation' doesn't mean you can't look hot."

I rolled my eyes, but let her pull me back to the closet.The frat house was quieter than I'd ever seen it. No pulsing music, no crowds of people. Just the soft murmur of conversation and laughter drifting from the back patio. Sunghoon met us at the door, his face lighting up when he saw us. "Hey! You made it." he said, ushering us inside. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I felt a flutter in my stomach. "Drinks are in the kitchen, we're all out back."

As we followed him through the house, I couldn't help but notice how different he seemed here, in his element. Relaxed, open, a far cry from the popular Sunghoon I was used to seeing on campus. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly attractive. The back patio was strung with fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the small group gathered there. I recognized a few faces from classes, but it was indeed a much smaller crowd than the usual frat parties.

Yuqi immediately gravitated towards a group she knew, leaving me standing awkwardly by the door. Sunghoon appeared at my side, two red cups in hand. "Here," he said, offering me one. "It's just punch, but fair warning - Heeseung made it, so it's probably stronger than it tastes." I took a sip, the sweetness masking the unmistakable burn of alcohol. "Thanks for inviting us," I said, surprised by how much I meant it. Sunghoon's smile was soft, almost shy. "I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure if you would." "Honestly? I wasn't sure either," I admitted. He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad you did. Come on, let me introduce you to some people." As the night wore on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The punch was indeed strong, but the warm buzz it provided was pleasant.

Sunghoon stayed close, always making sure I was included in conversations, laughing at my jokes, his hand occasionally brushing against mine in a way that seemed both accidental and deliberate. I found myself studying him when he wasn't looking. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the gestures he made when he was explaining something he was passionate about. It was hard to reconcile this Sunghoon with the boy who had tormented me in middle school. At some point, Yuqi caught my eye from across the patio and gave me a not-so-subtle thumbs up. I rolled my eyes at her, but I couldn't help the smile that subtly appears on my face.

As the night progressed, people started to drift away in twos and threes. Yuqi had gotten into an intense discussion about some TV show with a guy from her psych class, leaving Sunghoon and me alone on a small bench near the edge of the patio. The fairy lights cast a soft glow on his features, and I found myself staring longer than I should have. "You know," Sunghoon said, his words slightly slurred, "I never thought we'd be here like this." I raised an eyebrow. "What, drunk on your frat house patio?" He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "No, I mean... talking. Like friends."

His hand found mine on the bench between us, his fingers intertwining with mine. The touch sent a jolt through me, but I didn't pull away. "I was such an ass to you in middle school," he continued, his voice dropping low. "I... I didn't know how to deal with how I felt about you back then." I froze, my heart suddenly pounding. "What do you mean?" Sunghoon turned to face me, his eyes intense even in their alcohol-glazed state. "I had the biggest crush on you," he admitted. "But I was too stupid and insecure to know how to handle it. So I lashed out instead." I sat there, stunned.

The Sunghoon I knew in middle school, the one who had made my life miserable, had a crush on me? It didn't make sense, and yet... "That doesn't excuse what I did," he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "Nothing excuses that. But I want you to know how sorry I am. And how glad I am that you're giving me a chance to make it right."

I looked at our intertwined hands, then back up at Sunghoon's face. The vulnerability in his expression took my breath away. "I... I don't know what to say," I whispered. "You don't have to say anything," he murmured, leaning in slightly. "I just wanted you to know." We sat there for a moment, the air between us charged with possibility. Then, without thinking, I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our lips met softly, hesitantly at first. Then Sunghoon's free hand came up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.

It was sweet and a little clumsy, tasting of punch with a hint of alcohol. His lips were softer than I'd imagined - not that I'd been imagining it, of course. When we broke apart, I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Sunghoon's eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't quite name.

"I... wow," he breathed, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. Before I could respond, the patio door slid open and Yuqi's voice rang out. "Y/N? You out here?" Sunghoon and I sprang apart, but not before Yuqi caught sight of us. Her facial expression completely changed, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked, her tone teasing. I stood up quickly, nearly losing my balance. Sunghoon steadied me with a hand on my arm, the touch sending another jolt through me. "We were just... talking," I managed to say, knowing how unconvincing it sounded. Yuqi's grin widened. "Uh-huh. 'Talking.' Got it. Well, hate to break up this... conversation, but it's getting late. We should probably head out." I nodded, suddenly feeling very sober. "Right. Yeah. Let's go."

As we made our way back through the house, I could feel Sunghoon's eyes on me. At the front door, he caught my hand. "Text me when you get home safe?" he asked, his voice low. I nodded, words not being able to leave my mouth. He squeezed my hand once before letting go. - The walk back to the dorms was quiet, Yuqi mercifully holding back her questions until we were safely in my room. "Okay," she said, flopping onto my bed. "Spill. Everything. Now." I sank into my desk chair, my mind replaying the kiss over and over. "I... I don't even know where to start," I admitted.

Yuqi's expression softened. "Start at the beginning. And don't leave anything out."

~~~~~

Going over to Sunghoons frat house became a frequent thing over the winter break. About twice a week I would go with Yuqi and kick back with a few of his friends, the same ones that were there the first time.

During those times, we'd always end up hanging out in Sunghoons backyard, or playing in his pool. He definitely acted a lot different around his friends than I expected. More relaxed, open, less guarded. In turn he opened up to me a bit too.

“If I beat you in a round of pool, you have take a shot with me” Sunghoon said chuckling, nudging his elbow against my arm. “Come on, that’s fair!”

“I guess, but what do I get it I win?”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You know what, I can think of something…” He moved closer to me, the tip of his nose inches away from mine. A shiver ran down my spine as I tried to resist the urge to pull away. Instead, I remained still, watching nervously as his mouth slowly drew closer and closer. “I think you might like it” he said teasingly.

“I guess I should just let you win then” I sighed sarcastically, trying to ignore the butterflies built up in my stomach.

He scoffs “I promise, sweetheart, I don’t bite” he said, moving back just enough so he could meet my eyes. His voice was low and husky, sending a ripple of heat through my body.

“So, what kind of shot?” I asked lightly, trying to ignore the way my voice shook as I spoke.

“I think I have some Don Julio” he mused, running a hand along the back of his neck.

Sunghoon it first to break all of the pool balls apart, declaring him as solids. Drinking beer between each of our turns and chatting about family and work, Sunghoon was a lot better at pool than he originally let on, because soon enough he had only 2 solid balls left, while I still had 5 stripes.

I was expecting him to have already won at this point. When he set his cue on the edge, lining up to hit one of the solids into a hole, the 8 ball shoots across the board, into the hole closest to me.

“Aw shit, I guess you won” He said with a fake defeated look.

I laughed, setting my bottle aside. “Looks like it. Thanks for letting me have a couple extra rounds” I said, winking at him. I missed my cue stick by mere centimeters, but didn’t care. My eyes were locked on Sunghoon; his hair stuck up everywhere, his skin glistening with sweat after his game, his shirt clung tightly to his frame.

A loud bang echoed off the walls, making us both jump slightly. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped towards the window behind me, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Someone just slammed the garage door shut” he whispered. “Did they close up for the night?”

We had spent so much time playing pool, we didn’t realize that slowly, one by one, people started to go home. This meaning that Yuqi probably caught a ride home with someone and the only people left here are the 3 frat guys staying in the house over the break.

“It’s getting late, I should probably call an Uber” I said, rubbing my eyes for focus.

“Why leave so soon? Doing Uber this late at night could be dangerous, you never know what kind of people could be out there.”

“What other option do I have? Yuqi went home already” I replied, grabbing my phone.

“You can stay here, you can sleep on my bed and I will set up a bed on the floor” he offered.

“I don’t know if that is the best idea” I muttered, staring at my feet.

“Just sleep here. Don’t waste money on an Uber, and I promise I can take great care of you.” he urged me, placing his hand under my chin so that I would finally look at him. “Do you really believe that I would let you get into a strangers car right now?”

I hesitated before nodding. “Fine, but only because I trust you.”

We pack up all of our stuff from outside, including my purse and all of the extra alcohol. There are so many room in the frat house and I have never been upstairs, I have no idea which one is Sunghoons. As the two of us climb the stairs up to his room, we both silently agree not to mention the previous events from the other night.

Sunghoon doesn’t know why I kissed him, And I don’t know why he kissed me. Even though he did tell me a little about the reason behind our relationship, it wouldn’t matter, he was too far gone for it to change anything anyway.

The moment we step into his room, he tosses his backpack onto the floor and gestures to the large queen sized bed sitting in the corner of the room.

“I didn’t bring anything to sleep in, I can’t sleep wearing jeans and a tank top” I said, gesturing to my jeans.

“Don’t worry about it, I can lend you something” he said, walking over to a laundry basket of clothes lying on the floor near the wardrobe. “I haven’t gotten the chance to put up my laundry, let me find something” he explains, rummaging through the basket.

He pulls out a large black t-shirt and some basketball shorts. “Here, try these on” and walked over, handing them to me, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Look away!” I playfully shouted while waving my hand to shoo him. “

“Oh my gosh, okay” he covers his eyes like a cartoon character.

Luckily I was wearing some spandex shorts and a sports bra underneath, so even if he did sneak a peek, which I’m sure he did, nothing too important would have been exposed. On him the clothes look normal size, but on me, the shirt fit like a dress and the shorts touched half way down my shins. “I guess I have no choice” I shrugged.

I crawl into his bed while he went to fetch an extra blanket for me out of his closet. At this point, he was already in his sleep attire. No shirt and some basketball shorts. It was hard to concentrate when he was standing there wearing nothing but shorts. I admit that maybe I was staring a bit longer than appropriate.

“You like what you see?” he says in a cocky tone, chuckling at my embarrassment.

“Shut up, you are so annoying” I scoff and roll my eyes, laying back down on the bed.

“Haha okay…” he smirks as he stands up from the closed with the blanket in his hand. “Hopefully this will keep you warm enough” he said, covering me with the big piece of fabric.

“Thank you, Sunghoon” I said, turning over to attempt to catch some sleep. He set up a little bed on the floor with a blanket and a pillow right next to the bed and layer down as well.

After sometime of just listening to the sound of the crickets outside, the quiet noises of the street, cars passing by, the occasional chirp of a bird. The atmosphere was rather peaceful, comfortable almost. I couldn't help the small smile forming on my face as I lay my head on my arm.

My brain kept drifting away from sleep, my thoughts constantly drifting back to Sunghoon. My heart rate was rising with every second that passed, I tried desperately to calm myself down, not wanting to give any indication that I was starting to get aroused. The more I listened to the sounds outside, the more I felt the overwhelming desire to be wrapped up in his arms. Just to feel him hold me.

I sigh deeply, rolling over onto my side and facing him. The soft glow of moonlight illuminating the entire room, casting light patterns on his sleeping features. If this was any other day, I would definitely stare at him until dawn, taking in every minute detail of him.

I scooted over to the edge of the bed, just close enough for me to nudge Sunghoon with my foot. “Hoon, are you awake” I whispered.

His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the moonlight leaking through the blinds. “Yeah” he clears his throat. “Why?”

“Can you lay with me?” I whispered again.

He stared at me for a second, trying to understand what was going through my mind. Eventually, he crawled onto the bed, lying down next to me. His body was hot against mine, making goosebumps erupt throughout my skin, but the feeling was comforting nevertheless. We laid like that in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Eventually, it became too awkward and I had to move closer into Sunghoon, cuddling up next to him. “I like this” I say quietly, resting my head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his faint scent. He chuckled slightly, positioning himself to where his fingers could comb though my hair.

I mumble, wrapping my arm around his torso. His fingers stopped their ministrations then, hesitating for a moment. I looked up at him from my position on his chest, curious as to what made him stop. I met his deep brown eyes that were focused solely on me. His gaze was soft, yet intimidating at the same time. Slowly, carefully, he lifted my head off his body and held it between his hands. Then he brought his lips to meet mine softly.

He pulled me in closer, gently running his fingertips along my jawline, making my heartbeat pick up in pace. His kisses were slow and sweet, the most tender kiss I've ever had. After several seconds of pure bliss, he pulled away slowly, watching me as if waiting for some sort of reaction. When my eyes fluttered open I met with his eyes, gazing deeply into each others’. A smile formed on my lips, making Sunghoon lean in to reconnect our lips again.

He placed his hands on the sides of my neck, holding me close to him, deepening the kiss, our tongues intertwining in a passionate dance. Our bodies pressed closely together, moving together rhythmically. His hands lifted up my oversized shorts and began roaming across my bare thighs, tracing up the hem of my shirt. We kept getting tangled in each other’s clothing as we continued kissing.

He reached my breasts, pushing up my sports bra to give them an affectionate squeeze, causing me to gasp in response. My hands moved down from his shoulders and ran up the backs of his arms to his neck, pulling on his short hairs slightly. Pulling on the strands of hair caused him to release a low growl and deepen the kiss, pulling his tongue into my mouth. Suddenly I felt his teeth graze my bottom lip, causing me to whimper slightly at the unexpected pain. When he released my lower lip, he sucked on it, sucking on it harder and harder with his sharp canine teeth. “Fuck…” I moan, gripping tightly onto the ends of his dark brown locks.

He took the opportunity to slide his hands under my shirt, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples lightly, causing my stomach muscles to tense up involuntarily. A slight smirk crept onto his lips as he noticed this, but then he proceeded to push the crop top further up on my shoulders before placing soft gentle kisses along my collar bone. He sprinkled kissed on my shoulders and chest and then moved down towards my waistline, placing soft soft kisses along my belly button. His hand started to work its way downwards, slowly caressing the insides of my thighs.

He latched one of my nipples into his mouth, gently suckling the tight swollen bud of flesh with his teeth and tongue. As his hand reached down and slid his middle finger along the underside of my left thigh, causing me to grind against his hand.

He trailed his hand back up to the bottom of my shirts and bunched it up in his hand “Can I take this off?” he leaned next to my ear and whispered. My breath hitched at how sensual he sounded.

“Please” I managed to speak out. He didn’t reply immediately, only gave me a reassuring smile before pulling it over my head, only leaving my bra. His lips found their way back up to mine, sending a surge of electricity through me. His hands worked their way to bottom of my bra, lifting it up and throwing it to the side as well. The cool air on my bare stomach and chest suddenly sent tingles all over my body, sending shivers down my spine and goosebumps all over my skin. He smiled at my reaction, continuing to caress my inner thigh.

“Is it okay if I take these off too?” he whispered, grazing the waistband of my shorts.

I let go of his arms and nodded my head yes, watching his expression change from relaxed to excited. I watched him pull those off and discard them as well, leaving only my thong on. “I hope this is okay” he smiled. He was still looking at me with those intense eyes, making it difficult for me to breathe properly.

He removed the last piece of clothing from me, both my spandex and the shorts he gave me, revealing my beautiful skin and perfectly plump curves underneath. He took a few seconds to appreciate every inch of my body before sliding his slim fingers between my legs. Instinctively my knees fell apart slightly, allowing him access to my core which caused his eyes to darken even more. As he gently traced circles around my bud, sending me into complete ecstasy, I moaned loudly, moaning in pleasure as my hips began grinding into his finger tips.

“God, you’re so pretty” he whispered, trailing kisses along my cheek. I bit my bottom lip to suppress the moans coming out of my mouth as he continued to stroke the wetness inside of my thighs. “So perfect.”

He spread my wetness all over his fingers and slid one finger inside of my desperate hole. At first, he started slowly, his thumb circling my clit while his middle finger slid in and out of my warm opening, slowly increasing the amount of pressure until I was gripping down onto his fingers with all of my strength. He increased the speed of his movements, adding another finger, pumping them hard into me. I closed my eyes and arched my back, trying my best to keep a good grip on his fingers.

“Shit, you’re so wet angel” he groans. He took his hand away to pull off his own shorts, with his boxers. His dick spring free, tip raging and dripping with precum. It was big, a lot bigger than I had expected.

I take all of his length into my fist as he continues contact with my folds. “Fuck, that feels good, baby” he says under his breath. I collect spit in my mouth and layer his tip and slide my hand up and down slowly.

I feel a familiar knot forming in my stomach as he keeps a consistent pace pumping his finger into my gushing pussy. “Agh yess” I moan on his cock, feeling the burning sensation building up. He leans down to place a tender kiss on the back of my shoulder, his warm breath fanning my sensitive skin, causing my back arch even higher. "Let go babygirl"he murmurs against my shoulder.

I let my hand rest against his erection, stroking him slowly, feeling the tip get longer by the moment. Soon enough, I can no longer contain myself as I let the orgasm rip out of me. His name came spilling out of my mouth, followed by a loud moan “Fuck Sunghoon, just like that.” I continue to hold on to him as the wave of pleasure takes over me, feeling my muscles start to seize up and my vision starting to blur.

As I'm regaining my composure, he pulls out of me, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. “You taste so good, princess” he praises, with sweat droplets forming in his forehead.My face turns red with embarrassment. I cover my face with my palms as I try to control my breathing. Sunghoon chuckles and grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my blushing face and places them on his cheeks instead. “Don’t be embarrassed, babygirl. That was hot” he says. My blush gets stronger by the second.

“Let me get you cleaned up” he suggested, getting out of the bed to go to his bathroom where he kept his extra cloths. He came back with a small smile on his face. He runs the rag between my legs and said “I am really happy you decided to spend the night”

“Me too Sunghoon” my smile only visible by the moonlight. He went back into the bathroom to put the cloth into the dirty clothes hamper.

“Now come here…” He brings his lips to meet mine once more. He wraps his arms around my sore body, making my face bury into his chest. Our bare skin resting against eachother was so relaxing. His skin was soft, and he was perfectly toned to my liking. He runs his fingers through my hair and begins to massage my scalp, making my whole body tremble. “It’s really late, sweetheart, let’s get some rest” he whispers and kisses my forehead, then rests his chin on the top of my head. As I lay there in Sunghoons embrace, feeling the warmth radiating off him, my eyes gradually fall shut.

「Taglist」 : @sngleehee - @capri-cuntz - @namdeyuoi - @jaysupremacy - @tobiosbbyghorl - @hoonie-zzz - @jayhoonvroom - @mumeimei - @skaterhoonie - @nat123c - @branchrkive - @simpjay - @parksunghoonsgf - @jakeflvrz - @alienqbrain - @mitmit01 - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyun - @sumzysworld - @rikislady - @heeheeswifey - @chlorinecake - @flwrhoes - @hollyoongs - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @sjyunnsworld - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @fatalwon

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ervotica · 6 months ago

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you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

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joonie-beanie · 7 months ago

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A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself.

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked.

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask.

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”.

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building.

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands.

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment.

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say.

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket.

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours.

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you.

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today.

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day.

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you.

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be.

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright.

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat.

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy—

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening.

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice.

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm.

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back.

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat.

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him.

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette.

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass.

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay.

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe.

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart.

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours.

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop.

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body.

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm.

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you.

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt.

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head.

Finally, you're bare beneath him.

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass.

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before.

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger.

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away.

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!”

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much.

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair.

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.”

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you.

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is.

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension.

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole.

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom.

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin.

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours.

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body.

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more.

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go.

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss.

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm.

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts.

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you.

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent.

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips.

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you.

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you.

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you.

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek.

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy.

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station.

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office.

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more.

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes.

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body.

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment.

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze.

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

#genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette fic #genshin impact x reader #bean fic #genshin x reader

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