#no one suspects him of this though because he acts like a bit of a ditz

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

[miumura]

CALLS OF CONVENIENCE⌇P. SUNGHOON ✶

( 📞 ) NOW RINGING » Park Sunghoon, an office worker with an odd knack for finding problems, has been calling you for assistance non-stop to address various issues in his office. Naturally, since it’s your job, you always stop by, but you’ve noticed that his problems are often simple to fix and don’t really require any help. So, it’s hard not to suspect that he’s just making excuses to see you.

Whether it’s a computer “glitch” or a “misplaced” file, Sunghoon’s requests for you seem more like opportunities for a chat than genuine emergencies.

PAIRING ✶ office-worker!sunghoon x assistant-fem!reader GENRE ✶ fluff, co-workers 2 lovers FEATURING ✶ jay from enhypen WARNINGS ✶ reader questions / teases sunghoon quite a bit, super obvious hoon 🫡 WORD COUNT ✶ 2.4K+

PICK UP? » this was inspired by something i had seen on tiktok … bits of it never left my mind since … all credits to it because that fueled me to write !! and i thought it suited him so … no thoughts just office worker sunghoon 🫠

"Hello, it's me again," his voice crackled over the line as you pressed the phone to your ear. You let out a small sigh, recognizing this as the third time he'd called just this week.

"Why, hello, Park Sunghoon."

“Huh—oh! You know it’s me," he said, sounding surprised, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

"You've been the only one calling my work number lately, Sunghoon," you replied. "And considering how many times you've called, it's normal to recognize your voice by now, don't you think?"

"I guess so…" he chuckled nervously. "Well, do you have time to come to my office? I need help."

"Help with what?"

"My computer is acting up—I don’t think it’s working properly. Can you help me, please?"

"Sunghoon," you sighed, glancing at the mounting work on your desk. "This is the third time this week. Are you sure it's not something simple?"

"Yes! I really do need your help," he insisted, a hint of sheepishness in his tone.

"Fine," you relented. "I’ll be on my way."

"Really?" His voice went up a notch, brimming with excitement before he cleared his throat. "Thank you so much, Y/N!"

Shaking your head, you stood up and headed down the hall to his office. As you walked, you couldn't shake the thought that there was no way he could be this unlucky.

When you finally arrived at his office, you knocked on the door and heard Sunghoon's voice from the other side inviting you in. As you entered, you saw him sitting at his desk, pretending to look frustrated with his computer.

“What is it?”

“Well, what a way to say, ‘hello’. Good morning to you too, YN,” Sunghoon replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Considering how many times I see you in a day, I don’t have to say that all the time when I do.”

Closing the door behind you, you couldn't help but also comment, “You know, you really should call the IT department for tech problems.”

Sunghoon looked up, still smiling. “Why call them when you've been so great at solving my previous issues?”

"Issues, you say?” you replied, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Of course,” he said with feigned innocence. “I would never call you to my office if I wasn’t genuinely struggling.”

"Like how your computer screen froze? When all you could’ve done was just restart your computer?" you asked, giving him a pointed look.

“I didn’t want to mess up more things, so I had to call you,” Sunghoon replied, his face turning a shade of pink as he fumbled for an excuse. It was just so easy for a confident smile of his to dissolve into embarrassment, as if he didn’t set himself up in the first place.

“Okay then, how about the problem with your printer? When all you had to do was refill the ink?”

“I swear I had it refilled last week,” he protested, glancing away. “I wouldn’t have called if I knew that was really the cause of it.”

“And how about the time—the same day as your printer issue—you said you deleted a really important file?”

“Okay, that was a real problem!” Sunghoon said quickly, recalling the incident. “I really panicked when I couldn’t find it on my screen. And you were all I thought about—well, asking for help, that is! Don’t get it twisted!”

“I never said anything,” you teased, unable to hide your amusement. “And all you had to do was check your ‘Recently Deleted’ folder. There was also another copy of it in your downloads.”

“Okay, none of that matters anymore, it’s all in the past!” he brushed off, trying to direct your attention elsewhere. “What matters is that I wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for your great assistance.”

“You could’ve fixed it easily by yoursel—”

“Why don’t we turn our attention back to my computer, please?” he interrupted, eager to change the subject, his voice carrying a note of pleading.

You walked over to his desk, noticing how he seemed to tense slightly as you came closer. Ignoring that, you leaned over to check the computer, both of you staring at the black screen.

“Well, if you see this,” Sunghoon said, pressing the button multiple times to try to turn on his computer. “It doesn’t work.”

“Can you be more gentle?” you suggested, watching as he awkwardly backed away.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled. “Can you fix this?”

“Sure, get out of your seat, please.” He quickly complied, moving to stand against the wall near his desk. You tried holding down the button, but the computer still wouldn’t turn on. Feeling a bit puzzled, you started looking around the desk. When nothing seemed amiss, you decided to check under the desk and soon noticed a cable...not plugged in.

Grabbing the wire, you held it out and looked at Sunghoon, who was nervously chuckling. “Oh…it was unplugged the whole time…”

You raised an eyebrow, struggling to keep a straight face. “Well, I suppose that explains it.” You plugged it back in, pressed the button once more, and the screen finally lit.

“Wow, who would’ve thought…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly burning up.

“Sunghoon,” you said, shaking your head with a teasing smile, “you know you could’ve checked this yourself.”

“Who would go ahead and unplug their own computer?” he mumbled, glancing away from your gaze. “I wouldn’t have done that on purpose or anything…”

“You’re really running out of excuses, aren’t you?”

“What…what do you mean?”

“You just want to see me more, don’t you?”

“I do not! I mean, as much as I do enjoy your company, I wouldn’t play tricks just to see you,” he said, rambling nervously. “You’ve just been a reliable person I can trust with these office issues.”

Not fully convinced, you said, “Well then, now that your ‘issue’ is fixed, I will take my leave.” You started to get up from his chair, about to walk away, when Sunghoon abruptly jolted.

“Wait!”

His sudden outburst startled you, and you watched as he frantically rummaged through his desk drawers, pulling out two overstuffed folders. “Can…can you help me sort these out? I mean, since you’re here, and you’re so good at handling things, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for you to help me with my work…right?”

He looked at you with hopeful eyes, his usual composure replaced with a hint of desperation. His attempt to maintain a professional demeanor faltered as he fiddled with the papers, clearly trying to cover up his real intentions. You could see through his act, but the genuine earnestness in his voice made it hard to resist.

“Fine, but only because I’m already here,” you said, with a small smile. As you took the folders from him, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was more about the company than the paperwork.

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up slightly as he grinned and quickly got a chair for you. As you both began organizing the chaotic stack of papers, a comforting silence settled in.

“You know, Sunghoon, I’ve always thought of you as an organized person,” you remarked, glancing at the disarray before you.

“Well, I am,” he chuckled, taking your comment as a compliment. “It’s just that I’ve been swamped with meetings lately, so I haven’t had a chance to sort everything out.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” you hummed, flipping through the papers. “You still would’ve made sure everything was in the right place.”

“Oh…really?” Sunghoon’s voice held a hint of nervousness. “So, you’ve noticed, huh?”

“Am I not supposed to?” you asked with a playful smile. “Aren’t I the assistant you always call for to fix all your issues?”

“Okay, if you think I made this mess on purpose just to keep you around, you’ve got it all wrong!” Sunghoon quickly defended himself, though his flushed face betrayed his words. “And you know me, I wouldn’t torture myself with a mess just to see you.”

“Relax, I was just teasing. Why don’t you work a bit faster then, hm?”

“You don’t have to remind me about my work, YN,” he pouted slightly, eliciting a soft chuckle from you.

He couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at you every now and then, marveling at the way you carried yourself, the subtle expressions you made as you worked—all of it made it difficult for him to concentrate.

To him, you were the prettiest person he’d ever laid eyes on. His eyes would linger on your features—just looking at your focused expression alone was always enough for him to get lost in the moment, or rather, admiring you. And every single time—without a fail—each look would send a flutter of excitement through his chest.

Sunghoon would catch himself in a daze, realizing he’d been staring a little too long again. He'd quickly snap out of it, giving himself a mini pep talk in his mind.

Get it together, Sunghoon. Focus.

He shifted in his chair, trying to redirect his attention to the task at hand, but it was no use. Every time he glanced up, Sunghoon mentally kicked himself for being so easily flustered. It was ridiculous how just being near you turned him into a nervous wreck. His usual confidence seemed to vanish whenever you were around, replaced by a nervous energy that made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

He tried to distract himself by focusing on his work, but his mind kept wandering back to you—how you laughed, the way you rolled your eyes when he said something silly, and the way you seemed to understand him without needing to say much.

Sunghoon knew he was obvious, but he never failed to deny it. Despite the countless times he’d told himself to just say it, he was afraid he’d only continue to humiliate himself even more. Every time he opened his mouth, the words got tangled in his throat, and he’d end up making some excuse instead.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that you might already see through his intentions and were just waiting to reject him once he finally confessed. The thought made his heart race with fear, and it was enough to keep him from doing anything.

But he pushed his many thoughts aside, trying to focus on the task at hand. He shuffled through the papers on his desk, pretending to concentrate. His nervousness lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the tension he felt whenever you were near.

After another moment of silence, he broke it with a hesitant question. “So, YN, what’s your… go-to coffee order?”

“Hm?” you looked up, slightly puzzled.

“Just… curious! Yeah, that’s all,” he said quickly, his voice a bit too casual.

“I don’t see how my coffee order is relevant to your office problems or work,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but I thought it might be nice to know,” Sunghoon stammered. “After all, if I’m going to be a bother, I might as well get you something you like. The least I could do is make up for, you know, troubling you.”

“And what if I don’t drink coffee?”

“Huh? I saw you drinking coffee with Jay the other day—”

“Watching me now, are we? That’s a bit unprofessional for a work setting, don’t you think?”

“No, wait! I wasn’t—I just happened to notice you while I was on my break,” Sunghoon rushed to explain. “And asking Jay would’ve been awkward. So—ugh, nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, noticing his flush deepening. He truly couldn’t hide it well.

“Yes, ignore me and continue helping me, please,” Sunghoon replied, the pink blush on his face becoming way more evident than before. Was he that painfully obvious with his tactics?

Either way, he wanted to get out of there—this was becoming too much for him, and his usual ways of calming down weren’t working. You couldn’t help but slip a small giggle at his discomfort.

“Well, I’m actually done now,” you said with a playful smile.

“Wait—already?!” His astonishment was clear as he glanced at his side of the desk compared to yours. His papers were still scattered in disarray, while yours were neatly organized and back in their folder.

“Yep. While you were busy being a nervous wreck with your, well, overwhelming thoughts, I managed to focus and finish up,” you explained, sliding the organized folder back to him.

“Oh, right,” he mumbled, still taken aback by how efficiently you handled the task. He should have anticipated it, considering your ability to get things done swiftly—one of the many reasons he admired you. “Thank you, YN.”

“Do you have anything else you need help with?” you asked, your tone friendly.

“Uh, no, thank you,” Sunghoon replied, his cheeks still burning. He was mortified by the series of blunders he’d made in such a short time, and the embarrassment made him wish he could just disappear. He couldn’t believe he’d made such a mess of things.

“Listen, YN,” he started, sounding unusually earnest, “I’m really sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries with my questions or requests. And for all the office issues—silly as they might seem—I genuinely appreciate your help. So, um, you can leave now. Thank you again.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Sunghoon. I promise you’re fine,” you reassured him. His expression softened at your words, though he seemed still lost in thought about his mistakes earlier. “You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable, and if you had, I would’ve told you.”

As you stood up from the chair and walked toward the door, you glanced back at him. His gaze darted away from the door, though it was clear he was trying to sneak a look as you left.

“Caramel macchiato,” you said.

“Huh?”

“My coffee order,” you clarified. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Wait—” Sunghoon’s surprise was palpable. “Oh, oh—! Noted! I’ll make sure to remember!” he stammered.

“See you tomorrow, Sunghoon.” You flashed him a final, warm smile. Despite knowing he’d probably call you again, and he knew you knew, you still left him a bit flustered but smiling. He shyly nodded, silently whispering a thanks to you again.

As you closed the door behind you, you heard him mutter to himself, struggling to regain his composure. You could hear the muffled noises of his excitement and embarrassment as you walked away, and it made you chuckle.

You left his office with your heart lighter and your mind buzzing with the possibility that maybe these calls meant something more. Finally getting the answers to the questions you’d always had in mind, it became clear to you that Park Sunghoon was undeniably charming.

💬 : do we love the flustered!enha agenda or is that js me

ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[batterygarden]

taking care of your sick little bro! yuuta (fem & afab! reader)

18+ MDNI. dead dove do not eat this is an incest fic... 1k explicit smut drabble. fully aged-up characters, it's implied he's bigger than you. I was put on god's green earth to churn out as many yuuta incest fics as i possibly can! that's fine!

Yuuta’s sick--laying on your chest, face in your soft tits while you alternate between playing with his hair and scratching his back. He’s easy to dote on, your little brother.  

You’ve just got on a nightshirt and panties—his nightshirt to be exact (you don’t have enough pajama tees whereas Yuuta seems to have a limitless supply). He’s feeling a bit better today, but he lies like this— between your legs, face cushioned by your chest—often, regardless of his health. 

He starts grinding a bit when you use your nails, scratching the skin of his broad, naked back. He lets out this little whine when he does, and what you’ve been suspecting while laying here all this time gets confirmed. Yuuta’s hard.

His voice is scratchy when he mumbles, "wanna fuck you."

The thing is he’s barely been eating, just laying with a fever for days—he’s got to be weak.

“Yuuta, baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He’s silent for a bit, grinding slow against you while he thinks on a response. He’s like a puppy. 

“I really want to, though,” his head’s lifted. “Please, née-chan, I need it. Think ‘m feeling better.” 

He starts to hoist himself up when he says this, fixing you with his undefeated puppy dog eyes and a hand trailed down your side, only to slide it back up to rub your naked waist under his baggy t-shirt. 

You stare at him, expression furrowed, caught halfway between stern and doting. Inhaling deep when he ruts his boxers against your panties again, pressing his cock against your clit. 

Yuuta, despite being the younger sibling, oftentimes likes to lean into a gentleman role. He holds open doors, pulls out your chairs, checks up on you and teaches you things he’s learned by being gifted and worldly. 

This practice extends to fucking, somehow—you’ll go from cuddling and holding and comforting him to him laying you down, caging you in his larger body and making love to you like it’s all he was born to do. You don’t often lead him; he doesn’t expect it of you nor seem to need it.

Except today, you suppose. You remember clearly how violently he was shivering just before the sun rose, teeth chattering with chills. Today, if he’s really better and horny enough to have sex—he needs to just lay down and let you take the reins. 

“Yuuta, why don’t you lay down?” 

Your words are met with the poutiest frown that man is capable of. 

“Née-chan, please, I promise I’m better! Don’t need to lay down anymore.” 

You turn to kiss his forearm, giggling a bit.

“I believe you, Yuu. I’m saying lay down and let me ride you.” 

Yuuta perks instantly, smiling big and dimpled, and in no time he’s on his back, getting comfy on a mountain of pillows. 

He seems completely at ease while you straddle his thighs, grinning all cute and serene while he hooks big hands around your hips.

“I don’t think you’ve ever done this before.” 

It’s true. Now that he mentions it, it is a bit of a feat that you’ve never ridden Yuuta’s cock before. He’s always been giving rather than you taking. 

“I didn’t think you ever wanted me to. But now’s the time to try since you’re all frail.” 

He laughs, pinching you. 

“You act like I was gonna go wwe on you.”

You giggle a little with him, tugging boxers down with his help, immediately palming his thick hard-on. 

“Because I bet you were. You’d probably make yourself faint.”

You kiss him then, sweetly, softly. You like to pretend like he’s delicate oftentimes, and right now he sort of almost is. 

He whines into your mouth, a calloused hand making its way between your thighs at the same time. He rubs at you a bit, smiling against your lips when you buck unintentionally, then he’s tugging your waist forward with one hand, stretching panties to the side with his other to try and help you onto him. 

“Eager, huh?” You rub his tip through your sticky folds agonizingly slow. 

“Yeah I am, ‘nough being rude!” Yuuta’s voice takes on this classic, almost squealy pitch it gets sometimes when you push his buttons. You relish in it, biting your lip to keep from giggling. 

Then you’re splitting yourself on him, slowly letting yourself stretch and stretch with a bitten lip until you’re resting on his lap, and he’s snug against the deepest parts of you. It’s a good thing you’re so wet because the action isn’t easy, it often feels like your lungs are getting squeezed when you first take Yuuta’s cock.

It’s worth it since Yuuta’s so cute when you do, pink cheeks and neck strained while he throws his head back. 

“S’good. Feels so good.” He practically whimpers. “Née-chan, c’mere.” 

You do as he says, falling forward to rest chest to chest, rolling your hips subtly at the same time. Yuuta hums when you do, before warm hands are pulling your face to his. 

The kiss you share is clumsy and breathy, especially on Yuuta’s part—it’s like he can’t help but gulp desperate breaths through his mouth when you grind hips against his. “M’not gonna last.” 

He manages to say, after you pull away and lean up so you can bounce a bit. You could tell he was sensitive today, but you didn’t realize he was this pent up. If only he wasn’t sick, you might take advantage—serve some payback for all those nights he left you an overstimulated mess. 

“S’okay baby.” You say, bouncing a bit harder, loving the sweetness of it when Yuuta’s fingers manage to find your clit through his head fog, muscle memory guiding him to press you just right. 

You feel him twitch inside of you when he cums not long after, managing to clamp down on him while he paints your insides white. 

Despite your best intentions you do manage to overstimulate him a bit, pulsing around him while he floods your pussy full, locking him in place till you come down. It’s a bit messy when you do, feeling the warm wetness between you both, but you sit in it a while after, staying connected while you rub and kiss at Yuuta’s face, smoothing back his hair again and again. 

When his eyes finally open he puckers his lips for a kiss. He loves you he says. And you say it back—you love him—enough to take care of him no matter what. 

[moonstruckme]

Okay I’ve been thinking of request ideas for Thawing Out all day while I was at work 😂 What about if something happened with her on the way to practice (nothing serious but maybe it shook her up a bit) and she was late and clearly acting off? Obviously her boys are going to notice…

Love you as always, hope you’re doing amazing! 💖💖💖

Thank you Amber my love!!! Hope you like it <3

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of harassment

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words

You come into the rink with quick, determined steps, blitzing past every door in your path until you get to the bleachers. Sirius is already on the ice, Remus leaned against the boards while he watches. Both boys turn when you sit down. 

“Hello,” Sirius calls, clearly chuffed to have you here as a buffer between him and your bristly coach. “Where’s my latte?”

“No time today,” you say back. You jam your foot into a skate. 

Remus gives you a scrutinous look. “You alright?”

“Fine. Sorry I’m late.” 

You get your skates on in record time, laced up tight enough to hurt. Sirius is ready for you in your starting position, his hands firm on your shoulders. He gives a little squeeze, meant to coax a smile out of you, but you’re in no mood. 

“I was just fucking with you about the latte,” he says lowly. “I don’t need it to get through practice, though he has been especially insufferable this morning.” 

You glance at Remus. He looks the same as always, half relaxed and half watchful. He and Sirius have fallen into a routine of petty spats that you suspect don’t exactly make him look forward to practice every morning, and yet he seems to be getting used to the both of you. He’s less curt than he had been during your first few days together. 

“You only say that because you were here alone with him,” you say. 

“It didn’t help. Without you here he’s in his most unfiltered, fogey form.” 

Your skating is as near to flawless as it’s been in weeks. You throw yourself into each jump with everything you have, using the hot emotions simmering beneath your skin to your advantage. And it works. Remus looks caught offguard but directs several nods of approval your way, whereas Sirius is all untempered joy. His grin widens with each flawless landing, and when you finish your most difficult move in the routine he actually whoops. You think you see Remus’ lips twitch at that. 

“There she is!” Sirius grips your hand, squeezing tight as you go into a synchronized arabesque. His hair is pulled back into a bun, but a couple of loose pieces flutter around his face as he skates backwards. He looks so happy for you, and some of that tight feeling you’ve been carrying around all morning dissipates. You smile back at him. 

You both go into a lutz. It’s a jump you’ve done half a million times. It should be a given, perfect every time. And yet you catch your mistake in midair. 

You land on your hands and knees. 

You pant a couple of times, and your next breath scrapes on the way in. Tears press at your eyes horrifyingly fast, like they’ve only been waiting for their chance. You press your nose to the ice. 

Skates hiss until they’re next to you, Sirius’ hand on your back. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” 

You shake your head, humiliated by your fall and even more so by this fracturing, how easily it came on. You feel pathetic. 

“Where is it?” Sirius’ voice climbs, growing shrill with panic. “Let me see. How bad is it?” 

He’s trying to sit you up, hands cold and gentle and frantic, but his touch stills when a warmer one meets your shoulder. 

“Are you hurt?” Remus asks. 

“No.” You finally find your voice, but it’s pitchy and awful. “I’m sorry.” 

“Fuck. Fucking hell.” In the next second you’re smushed against Sirius, who hugs you tight as soon as he knows he doesn’t have to be delicate with you. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I’m sorry.” Your face feels hotter than hot in the cold rink. You push into your eyes with your fingertips. “God, what the fuck! I thought I fixed it. I don’t understand why this is still happening.” 

You’re sobbing now, tiny explosions that start in your chest and ricochet all the way through you, but fuming all the same. 

“You were both right, I’m holding myself back. I thought I could stop, but it just keeps happening, and I can’t do this. I’m so incompetent I can’t even do a fucking lutz. We need to find Sirius a new partner. I can’t hold us back anymore, I—” 

“Hey.” 

Remus’ voice is harsh, but not as harsh as Sirius’ grip on you turns at the sound of it. Your partner’s face goes sharp and cruel in an instant, an animal bearing its teeth. 

Remus pays him no mind. He keeps his eyes on yours, firm and unrelenting. “Don’t speak about yourself that way,” he says. 

You feel Sirius’ hold slacken in surprise. 

Another tear trudges down your face, and Remus’ expression gentles. “Everyone falls,” he tells you. “You have been improving, faster than I thought was possible, but you can’t expect it to happen all at once. You’re still going to fall sometimes. It’s alright. We’re working on it, yeah?” 

You sniff, wiping underneath your eyes. “Yeah,” you squeak out. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry. Just give yourself some grace, yeah?” His lips press together in a little grimace that’s likely meant to be a smile. “It’s my job to be hard on you, not yours. You’re allowed to fuck up. It doesn’t make you incompetent, or unworthy of competing with Sirius. You are the best person to be his partner. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, understand?” 

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath in. “Thank you.” It stutters a bit on the way out, catching on another tiny sob you can’t help. This one comes from a place of relief, but Sirius’ cold fingers dig into your arm anyway and Remus’ brows twitch slightly as though it hurts him, too. 

“No problem,” he says softly. “Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?” 

You nod, closing your eyes to will yourself calmer. 

“Good. Do you want to leave off early today?” 

You swallow and start to stand. “No. I’m okay.” 

“No.” Sirius’ voice is bemused enough to sound like a question. He rises beside you, looking at you like he’s trying to puzzle you out. “No, something’s up with you today. We should stop.” 

Remus seems to go along with him, starting back towards the opening in the boards, and you think wryly that if one good thing comes from all this it might be those two finally starting to get along. You also realize for the first time that Remus is out here with you on the ice. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so much as think about coming off of the bleachers, even if he is only in regular shoes and leaning heavily on his good hip as he makes his way back towards them. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat to Sirius. 

He shakes his head. “You’ve been weird since you got here. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” 

“Something did.” 

You push out a frustrated breath. “Nothing relevant.” 

“But something did happen.” 

He’s steering you towards the exit now. It feels petulant to rip away and stay on the ice even if no one else will, though that’s what you’d really like to do. 

“Are you actively trying to piss me off?” you ask him. 

Sirius shrugs, stepping onto the floor. “If that’s what’s going to work. I only want to know what got you so upset.” 

“Nothing.” 

“Here we are again. Back to ‘nothing.’” 

Remus is watching you both like you’re a show his TV has randomly flipped to. Tentative of where he stands, but definitely entertained. 

You hate that this has become such a big thing. “It’s really nothing,” you say, planting yourself on the bench with a force that perhaps belies your claim. “It was just some git on the way here this morning.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows go up while Remus’ come down. 

“And what did this git have to say to you?” Sirius asks. 

You sigh, starting to unlace your skates since apparently practice is over. “It’s not what he said. He only asked me out, which is fine, but then he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He, like, grabbed onto my arm and wouldn’t let go for a bit.” 

Sirius’ expression goes stormy. It’s almost as bad as the look he’d given Remus earlier, only without a target to be directed at. “Are you fucking joking?” 

“It was fine,” you say. “I made it here, didn’t I? It just freaked me out a little. And pissed me off.” 

“Yeah, you should be pissed!” Sirius starts pacing, mindless of the indents his blades are putting into the rubber flooring. “Who does that? Did he think—what, you were just going to have to go out with him if he took you captive?” 

“I don’t know.” You give him a dead-eyed stare. “I didn’t ask him.” 

“God, you should be able to walk to fucking practice in the morning without being accosted by—by some—”

“Do you need someone to walk with you in the mornings?” Remus seems uninterested in waiting to hear what creative insult Sirius comes up with for the git. He looks at you steadily, his jaw tight but ready to accept whatever answer you give him. 

“No,” you say. “Like I said, it was really nothing.” 

“It upset you,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s not nothing.” 

“I can walk you.” Sirius plonks down beside you on the bench, seeming to have come to a decision. “Just wait for me inside tomorrow morning, and I’ll come pick you up.” 

You can’t help but smile at that. “If I leave it to you, we’ll never get here. There’ll never be another morning practice again.” Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek like he’s repressing a grin. 

“Wha—so little faith!” Sirius sputters, straightening before he’s so much as touched his laces. “I’ll be there, okay? We will be needing to pick up my coffee on the way here, though.” 

You give him a skeptical look. “You realize I wake up a half hour earlier to have time to get those?” 

“Fucking hell! Do you really?”

[f1goat]

more than friends + lando norris x part eight

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven

Lando is walking a bit in front of you, slowly you walk behind him. Together with a couple of his team members and Oscar you’re doing a track walk. Normally you skip this part of the day, but Lando kept begging you to accompany him. So here you are - and Lando isn’t even paying attention to you. You wonder why he wanted you to come here with him. 

“Still not dating Lando?” Oscar questions you suddenly. 

You let out a soft chuckle because of Oscar his blunt question. After you picked Lando and him up, Oscar has asked you that a couple times. It’s nice to talk about everything with someone. Although, not everything since you’re not telling him about the sexual things that are happening between you and Lando. Even though you suspect that Oscar already knows about that. 

“Still single,” you reply.

“Still waiting for him to make a move,” Oscar says, he lets out a soft laugh because of his remark. 

“True,” you state.

Oscar laughs again, this time you join him. Lando is quick to look behind himself when he hears you’re laughing. It surprises him to see you talking and laughing with his teammate. He decreases his pace until he is walking next to Oscar and you. 

“What are you talking about?” Lando asks. 

You doubt about your answer. What do you need to say? You can’t tell Lando that you were talking about him. Before you can say anything, Oscar is already answering Lando.

“I’m trying to get her to go on that date with Pierre,” Oscar says. He knows he’s taking a risk and that Lando will get mad at him, but he’s done with the way his friend handles this. Lando needs a push and right now, Oscar is happy to give him one. A massive big one even. 

“But you already said no to Pierre, right Y/N?” Lando is quick to question you. 

Fucking hell, what did Oscar just do? You know he’s waiting for Lando to make a move on you, but you told him that he didn’t need to intervene. When you look at Lando and notice his frustrated look, you suddenly start to think that it might be worth a shot. 

“Yeah,” you answer, “but he asked again.” It isn’t even a lie. Pierre texted you again yesterday, his text was stupid and a cliche, but you didn’t answer it yet. His text was something in the line of you needing to give him a chance - since he was settling down and really wanted to get to know you. This time he didn’t even say how beautiful you were, something he did a couple times after you said no the first time.

“Why would you chance your mind?” Lando asks confused, “I thought you already decided that he wasn’t your type.”

“You decided that,” Oscar butts in. Lando sends a angry glare towards his teammate. 

“Maybe I should give him a chance to prove himself,” you shrug. 

You really hope that Lando is going to say something against this. There’s not a single cell in your body that likes the idea of going on a date with Pierre. You wait for Lando his reply. In the mean time you take a good look at him. It’s clear that he is frustrated right now, but he doesn’t act on it. Yet. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Lando replies frustrated, “He is a fuck boy.”

“According to him he’s changing,” you state. 

“He still wants to fuck you,” Lando says angrily. 

“Maybe I want him to,” you reply sarcastic. 

Lando doesn’t realize that you’re sarcastic right now. He is sending you angry glances. You don’t know how to behave yourself right now. You have no idea what Lando is going to say. Oscar is looking at the drama unfolding itself before his eyes. He wonders how this will work out. Lando seems way too mad to say anything good right now. He is already preparing himself for a fight. 

“You don’t,” Lando mutters angrily.

“How would you know?” You reply.

You don’t know why you’re getting mad. This is going about useless crap. But Lando is annoying you right now and you only want to frustrate him as well. Lando stops walking and turns himself to you. 

“You told me I would be your first,” Lando eventually says in a soft voice. His eyes are begging you to agree to his words. To tell him again that you want him to be your first. “You can’t expect me to believe that you suddenly want to have your first time with a fuck boy like Pierre,” he adds when you don’t reply fast enough. 

You let out a soft sigh. “You’re right,” you confess. Lando his facial expression is quick to brighten up a bit. “But maybe I want to date someone,” you lie, “I mean I have to get some experience on dating and Pierre can be useful with that.”

“No,” Lando says firmly, “You’re not going on a date with Pierre. End of discussion.”

“And who says you can make that decision for me?” You ask Lando annoyed.

“Come on babygirl, not him,” Lando pleads you.

“Okay, then I’ll say yes to Logan,” you reply.

“No,” Lando is quick to say. “You told me he was too young,” he adds.

“Maybe I changed my mind,” you state.

“Fucking hell,” Lando mutters. You don’t say anything. “After the track walk I’m taking you on a date and I swear to god, I don’t want to hear you about any other boy for the rest of the day.”

Oscar laughs loudly. You almost forgot that he was still here as well. Lando sends him an angry look. He knows that this was Oscars idea. He will talk to his teammate later about this. When he wants to make a sneer directed at Oscar, he starts to notice your look. You have a small smile plastered on your face and you seem happy with yourself. It makes him forget about Oscar. Did you do this on purpose? Maybe you wanted him to snap. He should have asked you on a date way sooner, then this mess wouldn’t be necessary. 

Lando gets closer to you. “And after that date, I’ll deny you your orgasms until you’re screaming out your apologies for even talking about them,” he whispers in your ear.

+++

He’s trying. Really trying. But why is it always that someone is trying to flirt with you wherever Lando takes you? He took you to a nice restaurant this evening. He made sure to check the menu before making a reservation, so he would know for sure that you’d like the food. It seemed to be the perfect evening, but now the fucking waiter is flirting with you. Lando is getting sure that he will be losing his mind pretty soon. He tries to ignore the waiter, but every time he comes over he’s reminded about the fact that your not his. Fuck. 

“What’s going on Lan?” 

It’s your voice who pulls him out of his thoughts. Lando tries to shrug it off, but when he sees your strict gaze he knows he won’t get away this easily. 

“Why is it that every where I take you, there seems to be someone trying to get with you,” Lando eventually confesses with an annoyed sigh. 

You show him a small smile. It’s really bothering him apparently. “I’m not interested in any of them,” you tell Lando, “so you can relax.”

“Promise?” He asks you.

“Promise.”

“Not even that waiter?” He asks just to be sure.

“Which waiter?” You ask confused, “I thought you were still talking about Logan and Pierre.”

“The one who just brought you your drink,” Lando confesses.

“What’s with him?” You ask confused.

“He’s trying to flirt with you,” Lando sighs.

You let out a soft chuckle. “I didn’t even notice,” you tell Lando. “Come on babe, ignore them and enjoy our evening,” you add when Lando is glaring at the waiter who’s coming closer again. 

When Lando and you start to walk towards the exit of the restaurant after dinner, you’re quick to realize that the waiter from before is coming to you two. Lando is already sending angry glances, wondering what the guy wants this time. You on the other hand don’t know what to think. Maybe you just forgot something that he’s going to bring over? 

“Hi,” the waiter is quick to greet you when he stands in front of you. “I uh,” he continues while looking a bit nervous, “I was wondering if you’re single. And if so, if I can get your number?” 

Fuck. You don’t like it that Lando was right. Lando is quick to put his arm around your body and pulls you close to himself. It’s almost like he’s trying to show the guy that you’re his. But you’re not. 

You wonder how to react to the waiter. What do you need to reply? You don’t want to give him your number, but you also don’t want to be rude. Normally those things don’t happen to you. 

“No, she’s not.”

Lando his words shock you, but you play along. You try to hide your confused feelings. The waiter is quick to mumble a soft apology and walk off. Lando starts to walk with you in a fast pace, it seems like he wants to leave as quick as possible.

Lando takes you back to the hotel with him. You are feeling tense because of Lando his earlier words. Is he really going to deny you your orgasms? Lando his hand is laying on your thigh while he drives to the hotel. You stare at him. Lately he has made you question everything. Of course you were well aware of your feelings before, but now things have changed. Now you feel the slight possibility of Lando liking you back. You don’t want to hope too much, but you can’t help yourself anymore… His jealousy alone makes you question everything. 

When the two of you are back into the hotel, Lando is quick to wrap you into his arms. He lifts you up a bit and takes you to the bed with him. You are quick to softly fall onto the bed, Lando lands next to you. It doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms all around your body. You let out a relieved sound. Lando is quick to follow. 

“All I wanted today was to cuddle with you,” Lando softly confesses.

You feel your cheeks heating up from his confession. You get closer to Lando and put a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“I like that as well,” you tell Lando.

He shows you a grin.

+++

A few hours later you’re laying on the bed with Lando again. This time you’re freshly showered and underneath the sheets of the bed. You’re wearing one of Lando his shirts and your panties. Lando is already complaining about it. Even though he’s only wearing his boxers.

“How do you expect me not to take your virginity right now and here if you’re looking like this?” He ask you. 

You let you gaze away from the television screen that’s playing some old Family Guy episodes, to look at Lando. You feel your cheeks reddening while thinking about what to reply. Eventually you decide to be honest with him.

“I don’t expect you to,” you confess.

“No, no babygirl,” Lando quickly states.

“No?” You ask him confused.

Lando doesn’t tell you that he’s waiting on purpose. He doesn’t know what will happen after he takes your virginity, but he’s afraid things between you two will go back to ‘normal’. Or at least the things that were normal for you before, so no kissing and sexual stuff anymore.

“I want to do it right,” Lando says, “You know a bit romantic and stuff like that.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, “I’m ready and if you want to now is fine.”

“I want to,” Lando answers firmly, “not that I don’t want to fuck the living shit out of you right now, but I want to make sure your first time is perfect.” 

“That’s sweet Lan.”

“Come here babygirl,” Lando says. You move yourself closer to him and lay down on him. 

Lando is quick to press a firm kiss against your lips. It’s fast to turn into more. You slightly open your lips to give Lando entrance to your tongue. Something he’s quick to take. You put yourself on top of Lando his body. Slowly you grind your hips against his crotch. You feel something hardening underneath yourself. It’s exactly what you think it is. It only took you a couple seconds before Lando got hard from your movements.

Is it weird to see that as a compliment?

Lando moves his hands towards your hips. He helps you to grind him harder. He uses a bit more pressure and makes sure you hit him rightly every time. You move your head closer to Lando and press a kiss against his lips. It turns into a make out session in no time. 

“Fuck,” Lando moans. 

You try to grind on to him even harder while increasing your pace. You twirl your hips in the mean time. Lando softly squeezes your ass, it causes you to let out a soft moan as well. Lando shows you a small smirk. You increase your pace and pressure even more. When Lando lets out a deep moan, you show him a smirk back. Two can play this game.

It only takes you a couple more movements before you feel a small bit of wetness. Lando isn’t looking at you anymore. He has his eyes closed and lets out another soft moan. 

“Fucking hell babygirl,” he eventually mutters when he opens his eyes again, “You just made me cum into my underwear. Again.”

You show Lando a small innocent smile. He shakes his head while laughing.

sorry for taking a bit longer then usual :( i've been busy! hopefully i can write part nine faster

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia @swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

[brilium]

❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3

Masterlist

➽──────────❥

❥ DAY 9. Aphrodisiac! with Nanami Kento

Summary. Nanami has been dealing with a lot of stress at the office lately, and you decided to buy him a naturalist tea that it supposed to help with the stress relief. It seems to help with stress in a very particular way...

Content Warning. Fem! reader, no use of Y/N, all characters are adults, smut, vaginal sex, overstimulation, oral sex (m. receiving), breeding. No proof read, might edit later.

Word count. 2,203.

MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!

You bought a package of natural tea bags for stress relief. Was it suspicious? Not really. You expected them to work? Also no.

Actually, it seemed pretty normal; a simple box with small bags filled with the usual content.

You gave them to Kento when he drank in the morning before going to work. He seemed like usual; tired, with no energy and half asleep.

That was pretty much the reason why you bought them.

The tea was supposed to help him relieve stress relief, that’s why you give it to him before his stressful routine. You didn’t expect to be one of those teas.

“Fuck! S–Stay still dear!” Nanami groans, holding the headboard of the bed with one hand while the other keeps your waist firmly against the mattress as his hips slam aggressively against yours.

You look at your clothes spreader around the floor, you can't even remember when Nanami got you rid of them in the rush of kisses and make out that he put you through.

The lady at the shop gently helped you to look for a tea that would help with the stress that your husband has been having, since you’re a bit worried about his lack of words and how he skips dinner and goes to sleep. You should have suspected of her smile.

It was a damn aphrodisiac.

You cry in the pillow while he keeps thrusting with an animal fiercely, holding the sheets between your fists as his hip bone spanks against your red ass. Nanami groans fill the bedroom with the skin slapping sounds that drive you crazy.

"God— You feel so good today. I couldn't stop thinking at work about you, dear!"

And, that's fucking true, Nanami felt a weird wave of arousal as soon as he landed on his desk. Suddenly remembering how tight that shirt suited you today, he remembered how your nipples poked out softly through the fabric; and that leaded him to remember your bare body, your thighs squeezing at his sides every time he pounded on you and your sweet blush when you announced that you were about to cum—

God, he lied saying that he was sick because he needed to fuck you. It felt like ages since the last time.

When he arrived sooner, you were happy that, maybe, his boss gave him a free day. But as soon as he started kissing you as rubbing his hard erection against your stomach you knew that you’ll be the tired one today.

“P–Please! K–Kento—” You rest your cheek on the pillow to get some air, even if it’s hard to do it with his weight above yours, thrusting hard. “S–Slow down! Fuck!”

Nanami doesn’t seem to listen, actually, he does the opposite, getting a quicker peace that wins a loud scream from you. Your eyes half opened don’t let you focus clearly, although your complaints since you’re used to doing it more gently with him, you love how his tip hits constantly on your cervix like he wants to leave his mark inside you.

When you start whining against the pillow, drooling on it and starting to dig hardly your nails on your palm, you let out a small whimper of pain that startles your husband.

“D–Do you— Shit! Do you want me to stop?”

The thrusts slow down gently until stopping with some shaking from him, he doesn’t sounds like he wants to stop, even his voice shakes in need of more but his delicacy with you stays even though the way he acts right now melts a warm feeling on your chest.

You shake your head with weakness, tightening your core muscles to keep him inside. Nanami lets out a broken moan when you do it, grabbing both sides of your hips firmly and taking a deep breath.

He caresses your back from top to bottom, trying to control his need to keep slamming on you.

“This is because of that damn tea…” He scolds, going inside again more slowly even it’s a higher pain for his body needing to let out all that contained energy. "I can't even feel tiredness."

“I notice it,” You whimper, tasting how sweetly it feels his length entering again, you push your hips back a little for more and Nanami responds by unintentionally digging his nails on your skin. “Fuck— D–Don’t hold back, please...”

Nanami growls in response, he tries his best to go slow for you but even though he slowed down his thrusts, he makes sure to hit every time with enough energy to make your insides clench around his swollen dick.

You start to love this new side of him, letting out his desires to ruin you and take everything he wants. He's a gentleman, and that's perfect, but remembering that that gentleman is turning you into a mess growls a pool on your aching cunt.

When Nanami’s thrusts start to get faster and harder, you start to taste a sweet electric wave around your body as you keep hearing the headboard slamming on the wall.

“K–Kento! I’m… I’m close!” You scream, moaning his name against the sheets and grabbing them between your fists.

Nanami nods behind you, keeping his peace as he starts to feel how the knot on his stomach is about to release. He pulls you closer to him in a harsh movement and starts hitting harder, when you start crying in pleasure is when you feel a whole shiver growing along your body in the high of your orgasm. He keeps moving his hips in a messier way until he moans sharply as you feel a warmth filling your cunt.

You are breathless on the mattress as you feel the cum running down your thighs, thinking that your husband is in the same state but it takes you by surprise when he grabs you by the shoulder to make you lie on your back to look at him towering you in the bed.

He just came, a lot.

And he’s still fucking hard.

“B–But you just came!” You whine, feeling him rubbing his length along your sensitive folds. Making you roll your eyes at the sensation and having to bite your lip to not moan in response. "Kento—"

“P–Please… Fuck, you feel so warm” Nanami moans quietly between his teeths, putting his tip right on your entrance and you feel a cold chill running through your spine. “If you are still tight maybe I’ll cum sooner and the effect of the tea goes away.”

You know that he's inventing all that, you both don't know how long that effect is going to last but you’re not complaining when his tip opens your walls again.

Nanami starts to push and you throw your head back on the pillow with a pained moan, you are still really wet from the previous orgasm, but also damn sensitive. He hasn't even fully entered but yet it already has you breathing hard and biting your lip.

He grabs your thighs to spread them and has a good entrance to you when he starts stroking again, but it doesn't seem to be enough for him. Nanami does the opposite by lifting your calves to put them on his shoulders as he starts to hit again.

This new position lifts your hips a little more and gives him a good angle to hit on your cunt and turn you into a mess of moans, feeling him hitting on the cervix in such a delicious way.

His eyes travel down along your body from your parted lips crying his name; your tits being squeezed between one of your hands, trying to keep them both stimulated; and fuck, the nice view of your cunt squeezing on his fat cock around the white ring of cum around it.

You squirm on the mattress, feeling like a rag doll in the hold of his strong body.

"F–Fuck! Fuck!" You bring one of your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit to get closer to the second orgasm. Nanami groans at the feeling of your folds hugging him tightly.

Nanami lets go of your thighs on your sides to bend closer to you, but his hips keep slamming on you like he's just started while you already started to feel your body getting sore.

You thought that he leaned closer to kiss you through the thrusts, but he stopped right in front of your breasts to start  sucking on your nipples and let them go with a "Pop!". When his hard thrusts make it hard for him to reach the nipple, he just chooses to suck on the soft skin of your breasts, leaving a dark red mark on there.

His tongue drills on the tip of your sensitive bud, biting it softly between his teeths to make your back arch for more. It's when in one of those movements that your vision goes blurry as your hands fly to his back and start to scratch it with your nails. 

"K–Kento! Yes, yes!" You roll your eyes, feeling his dick strokes on the right spot between your walls "Right there! Yes!" 

Nanami hugs you back to keep you steady as he keeps hitting, feeling your cunt tightening around him. You cry his name repeatedly against his shoulder as he thrusts while you ride the second orgasm.

You spasm under him, trembling and feeling small tears on the border of your eyes as he calms down above you. Even your walls clench around his length at the sound of his hard breathing beside your ear.

"D–Dear… I—"

You interrupt Nanami, pushing him softly to lie on his back beside you. He opens his eyes wide when you use the last remains of your strength to straddle I'm front of his swollen dick, holding the base of it with one hand as you get closer to it.

"Gosh! You gave me two sweet orgasms and you haven't even cum once…" A pout grows in your face, holding his cock to hit it softly on your cheek, loving the way Nanami’s body jumps slightly at the touch.

"Am I that bad in bed?" You continue, passing slowly your tongue flatly from his base to his tip to taste his precum combined with the last of your fluids. "Is that so, Kento? You want me to stop?"

Nanami shakes his head, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing sweetly as he bites his lip to not scream at the way you tease him with soft licks along his member. 

"No… Don’t stop."

You smirk, licking his tip in circles with your tongue before sliding it between your lips and pull back. You enjoy his cries and pleas until you finally decide to take the most that you can, swallowing with your cheeks as he throws his head back with a growl.

It's been a while since you gave him a blow job, so you forgot how fat his cock felt inside your mouth, struggling to take it all as you jerk the rest with your hand as you lick his tip in circles before taking it all again.

But he squirms so nicely on the bed…

You laugh against his dick, sending vibrations that make him cry softly, you keep going slowly until his hands push you down to take more. You gag around him and he growls pleased, thrusting up to hit the back of your throat, making you cry softly as the sound of his guttural moans fill your ears.

"Yes, yes! You take me so well, dear!" It doesn't take longer until Nanami pulls your head back by tangling his fingers on your hair, leaving a thin thread of drool from his tip to your lip.

You look at Nanami trying to get up on his knees in front of you with your flushed cheeks and fucked out gaze. He pumps along his swollen dick in front of you a few strokes until he throws the thick lines of cum around all your face, falling down along your cheeks, mouth and some drips on your tits.

Nanami groans relieved and fall on his knees in the mattress, looking at you cleaning the rest with your thumb to suck it.

"Don’t do that, let me clean you."

"Why? Is it gross for you?" You ask, genuinely. Stopping to look around for the tissues, but Nanami’s head weight on your lap, his broken breathing hits on your thighs, giving you tickles. 

"No… I'll get hard again if I see you doing it. I still feel some dizziness from that stupid tea."

You giggle, playing with his hair with one hand as you clean the last remains with the back of your hand, waiting for cleaning it properly later.

"Don’t call it stupid! You seem less stressed, actually."

Nanami groans annoyed, slapping softly on your bare thigh.

"Maybe, but I'm stressed on what medical excuse I'll have to create for my work."

"Just tell them that something in the morning hurt your tummy."

Nanami hums in response, about to fall asleep on your thighs and you smirk before leaning closer to his ear.

"Since you’re not going back to work… Do you want another tea?"

[princessbrunette]

thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.

at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.” and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”

he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.

you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.

“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.

“you’re finished working?”

“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.

“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”

he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.

he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.

“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.

it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.

“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.

“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.

you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.

“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.

“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.

“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”

he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

[deaddovedecadence]

if requests are open, i'd like to ask for a fic of yandere batfam caring for a sick reader (i've got 1 foot in the grave rn 🤒) with forced infantilization (if that doesn't squick you out, hopefully) gn reader would be preferred. thank youuu 🙏

They are in fact open and fun fact, ive never done infantilization before so im super excited. I think what I'm doing to do is like a mini fic of each batfam member and how they're deal with you being sick. I'll totally do a gn! reader but they might come across as non binary.

-

Alfred: not the worst but not the best. Fussing over you all the damn time whenever you have even the faintest bit of even a cold because he’s lost enough people, you will not be one of them. He tucks you in bed. and will read to the books he read when he was young, smiling to himself with you fall asleep from the drugged milk. Over all a 5/10

Bruce: Doesn’t really believe in it. Thinks that forcing you to be strong will make you, an oldest daughter even stronger. Still when you get sick he’s so gentle with you, cooing that he loves you and that soon you’ll be all better, that your dad is here now. It hurts so badly because you know who he is and yet he’s so fucking gentle with you. 5/10

Dick: Honestly he’s like this all the damn time. Says that because you were an oldest you ought to relive your childhood. Holds basic respect over you to make sure that you do what he wants when he wants because you know that he’ll go back to that coddling cooing cruelty if you don’t. When you’re sick it’s turned up to the max because he likes taking care of people who can’t fight back. Likes being able to hug you and hold you and love on you all he wants. 8/10

Jason: He’s definitely more gentle with you than he is with his siblings but definitely has rough edges. He sees you as someone that needs to be protected but in the manor you are more equal. He fusses when you’re sick for sure because even though he knows that you have the best medical care, he still remembers all the people he lost in crime ally. He’s not obvious about it because he doesn’t know how to be but yikes does this man watch over you like a hawk. 4/10

Cassandra: Thinks that you’re weak and needs her care in a way that her siblings and steph do not. Cass respects strength and the ability of people to take care of themselves ,and you in her eyes can not do that. So when you fight, she forces you down, humming sweet lullabies from cultures all over the world. When you’re sick it proves her point because the rest of them would have been over this by now. You need her. 7/10.

Tim: uses it to manipulate the fuck outta you. Tells you that you are weak, that your sickness is proof you need their love and attention. Will drug you to be dependent on them will you’re ill and probably made you sick in the first place so you’d learn that you belonged in the family, that there is no going back for you. Calls you a child even though you’re older then him.

Duke: They almost coordinate with Tim, making sure that you never suspect any of them. Duke’s power is words, they know how to spin them and manipulate them and make it so that you aren’t really sure of what’s real and what you dreamed up. A gaslighter to the max. Loves and respects you but thinks that you need to stay here, you aren’t strong enough to be a bat’s lieutenant. 7/10

Damian: While Dami does think that you are weak, he also thinks that. there is a value to you that the others do not quite understand. You soothe the family and act asa merger so that even when they anger each other, they come back for you. Damian is very intuitive and this allows him to understand you better even if he lacks empathy to those outside of his family. Even when you are ill he worries over you but demands you heal because you are strong. 0/10

[junowritings]

What about romanced Astarion reacting to the normally goody-goody Tav revealing that they stole the special potion from Araj before they left. He discovers this because Tav gives it to him as soon as they are out of sight from the blood merchant.

Oh I absolutely love this idea. Though writing this made me realize I need to put Astarion in my party more often. Went off on a bit of a tangent but I do hope you enjoy~!

=======

♡ Oh, the things we do for love, ey?

♡ Astarion plays nice with others in the interest of survival, and he’s made no attempts to hide that fact from you since you had really begun to bond. You on the other hand are akin to a bleeding heart, all too often going out of your way to do what you thought was right even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way as a result. At the beginning that attitude seemed pitiful - he figured it would simply end up getting you killed later down the line. And yet you’d rise, time and time again making an example of the morals that you set and surviving every encounter stronger than before. Even if your morals didn’t always align, he respected that tenacity.

♡ Even after you’d managed to worm your way into his very heart, the pair of you have butted heads more than once on the matter; at the high and mighty goody two shoes act that you face the world with. All of the reminders about doing good deeds for the sake of being good, not stealing from just anyone nor going behind others backs rummaging through personal effects for answers or loot. Not to mention all of that time spent helping others and listening to their plights as though they were your own. Honestly, darling, you really do make things harder on yourself by playing into other people’s sob stories. 

♡ Astarion never suspected that the encounter at Moonrise tower could have changed anything.

♡ He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you leave the room together after dealing with Araj, but that’s because inside Astarion is absolutely seething. A familiar feeling of disgust he’d longed hoped to quash down burns a hole deep within his chest, opening old mental wounds as though freshly torn asunder upon his flesh. He’s mad at that damned drow; the way she looked down upon him, using honeyed words that he knew were a damn farce because for fucks sake he’d been using the same tactics for well over a century. That look, that calculated appraisal as Araj gauged what the vampire spawn could offer her in exchange for her potion made his skin crawl, all too familiar with the look that spoke volumes of his value - as a means to serve her own whims and not an actual person.

♡ And then, when he’d shown reluctance, she’d turned to you, as though you’d reign him in and get him to bend to your will like some fanged pet you kept on a tight leash. Far from the truth, of course, but the lack of autonomy that Astarion felt watching the pair of you converse about him as if he wasn’t even there had him clenching his teeth hard enough that the ache in his jaw persists long afterwards.

♡ There had been a swell of satisfaction when you put your foot down on the matter, nipping her demand in the bud with a firm reminder that he had already refused her request - there was no more to discuss. The drow had gotten bored after that, uninterested in further discussion with her own desires now off the table, and Astarion was all too happy to be out of there as you trailed a few paces behind.

♡ Astarion stands by his choice, but another part of him kicks himself for turning down the reward. A moment of discomfort, to give up a piece of himself for a potion that could prove invaluable was all it could have taken. He had done it before - done it for centuries to placate that vile beast he once served - why would this be any different? A transactional relationship, one that could have given you a leg up in the battles ahead, and he’d refused. 

♡ He’s still stewing in these thoughts when a nudge breaks him from his reverie, a gentle brush of your fingers against his hand as you move into step beside your partner. Your touch is warm yet he prickles as though he’s been burned, pupils akin to pinpricks as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s measuring you, for a moment. Takes in the brow furrowed and questioning eyes - not pity, concern - trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It’s a discussion for later, so Astarion dons that usual placating smile and turns to you, fully prepared to pull a spiel about that whole conversation being a waste of your perfectly good time. And then he notices.

♡ His ears perk up at a noise, the gentle slosh of something moving. Crimson eyes dart down to the source, to the hand you’d touch him with. It’s not empty - no, fingers curl tight around the corded neck of a familiar glass green bottle, and your nudge this time is more insistent as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand, urging him to take it. You relinquish the bottle to his hold, pale hands taking the glass and stirring up the liquid inside as he brings it up to get a better look. Surely this isn’t…

♡ But then sure enough you smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye that makes his own widen as you shrug.

♡ “For you. Figured she didn’t need it anymore; since she just left it lying out in the open and all.”.

♡ The laugh comes before Astarion can stop himself - loud and unabashed from the sheer absurdity of it all. You? Actually stealing something? And for him no less! And they say that romance is dead, yet here you are wooing him one stolen novelty at a time. 

♡Hells he hadn’t even noticed that you’d swiped the damned thing - had it been when you’d turned the blood merchant down? Or back when she’d had her sights set on him? He doesn’t care for the answer, not really. He’s more impressed that you pulled it off, but Astarion certainly doesn’t miss the irony of it all. His lovely partner, casting aside your usual goody nature in favor of stealing something and getting one up on the woman who’d disrespected your lover. As if he wasn’t fond enough of you already - this was just another lovely little reminder of the lengths you’d go for him.

♡ His smile for a moment is all teeth, shoulders still shaking with the last dregs of laughter - which damn if he didn’t need - as he brings his free arm to curl around your side. The kiss pressed to your cheek is quick, vibrating with the appreciative hum that passes the spawn’s lips when you lean a little into him. Once he pulls away Astarion keeps his free hand looped around your side, the other holding the bottle up and giving the contents a dramatic little shake to show off.

♡ Perhaps he’ll keep this as a little secret; or maybe he’ll spend the rest of that night flaunting this potion teasing you for your first act of casual thievery. Whatever the outcome it’s worth the grin he flashes you as he gives a conspiratory wink and declares.

♡ “Oh my dear. We’ll make a fine miscreant of you yet!”

[fandoms-x-reader]

Role Model

Requested By: @mikudreamland

Oneshot

Summary: MC is a child who takes Mammon's tsundere nature at face value and believes he hates them. Mammon x Child!MC (platonically) Word Count: 945

Social cues were not something that children had a perfect grasp on. 

That was something that Mammon didn’t understand.

You were just a child. You didn’t know that when Mammon was putting on a tough act and calling you names there was a hidden message behind his words.

You had heard the others call him a “tsundere” but you weren’t even sure what that meant.

So, in your mind, you truly believed that Mammon hated you.

Mammon was desperate to be accepted by others and yet he refused to let others see him give the slightest bit of compassion.

Maybe he was afraid of looking weak. Maybe he was scared that the others would tease him for being kind.

After all, he was a demon.

What book or movie demonstrated a demon being a kind and caring creature?

He wouldn’t allow anyone to see the side of him that so desperately wanted to be exposed.

There were countless things done behind the scenes that he declined to take credit for.

Moments where his brothers would question his involvement, genuinely touched by the matter. But, Mammon would deny having any part of it.

And nothing changed when it came to you. 

As far as Mammon was concerned, this was how he always showed his affection for others. By doing things on the side and never letting his true feelings see the light of day.

You had been asking for a really special gift for a while now and Mammon had finally saved up enough money to buy it for you.

Yet, when you found it in your room one day, he claimed he had no idea how that wound up there and that you should ask Lucifer or Diavolo, doing his best to remove himself as a suspect from your mind.

Things like that tended to happen more often around you as Mammon tried to compete with his brothers to be your favorite role model.

But, because he never admitted to being kind to you, the only thing you saw was the way he teased you and called you things like “dummy”.

The way he claimed that he wouldn’t want to hang out with you and that the only reason he was doing so was because he would be in trouble with Lucifer if something bad happened to you when he was supposed to be watching you.

And it caused you to want to spend more time with his other brothers instead.

It was hard for you to think that Mammon didn’t like you because you really looked up to him.

Sure, he was awful with money and was always finding himself in trouble.

So, to believe that someone you looked up to so much couldn’t stand you made you feel really sad. 

But, he also was very laid-back and knew how to have fun.

He was light-hearted and while others would consider his tendency to not take things seriously annoying, it was perfect when spending time with a child.

And, with nowhere else to go, you ended up expressing those feelings to the other brothers.

They, of course, knew Mammon’s true feelings and attempted to explain his behavior to you. After all, they had a whole lifetime to adjust to him being a tsundere.

But, their words went in one ear and out the other.

How could you believe their claims about Mammon when you had never seen anything from him to back it up?

It wasn’t until Mammon saw how much closer you had grown to his other brothers that he realized something was wrong.

He tried to get you a gift to possibly persuade you away from his brothers, but you were completely uninterested in it. 

Mammon was truly at a loss for what to do.

He ended up sulking the next few days and when his brothers finally grew tired of it, they held an intervention during which they all but stated that Mammon was acting like a fool.

Satan explained that though they could see past his neutral facade, you were just a child who took his actions and words at face value.

Mammon was devastated by the news. He didn’t hate you or actually think that you were stupid.

It was a refreshing thing for Mammon - to feel accepted by someone. 

All of his brothers looked at him with disdain for his small flaws and sin.

But your innocence allowed you to look past all of that and see the person that he actually was.

And now he had ruined it because he hadn’t realized he was pushing you away.

After that conversation, he was determined to fix things and be your favorite role model.

It was a slow process, full of Mammon trying to completely change the way he went about things.

He would still buy you gifts, but he would own up to them, more afraid of you hating them than he was of anyone else judging them.

He would congratulate you for doing a good job on your school work and he would even offer to take you out for a treat as a reward.

As Mammon repaired the bond and the two of you got closer, the other brothers noticed that you really started to blossom.

For once in his life, Mammon felt responsible for someone’s life other than his own and he accepted that responsibility with open arms.

And in return, you also started to change Mammon.

He had gone to the casino less and less and even tried to pay off some debts to get out of some of the witches’ grasps.

When he put his mind to it, Mammon was an excellent role model.

[soundlessdreamss]

Hi!

Can i request lucifer and charlie morningstar with starlight glimmer!Reader?

So the reader was lucifer's child back in heaven and when she saw what her father did without her..She felt anger and sorrow insode herself.. But that didn't stop of her because she fell from heaven to hell...And she changed her appearance so nobody would suspect that she looks similar to lucifer

If you know starlight's cutie mark ability that is different..The reader can collect people's soul and feed the souls to her clock

Her clock is golden one with starlight mark on the behind..And she can time travel but she don't use it alot since she still has some other abilities to keep in control..

And the reader just went to the hazbin hotel just to stay there and help with few stuff... And vaggie knows reader but not that deep..Charlie noticed that the reader had few blonde hair strings like lucifer.. So she thought nothing at first..

And the reader saw alastor as father figure so sometimes the reader calls him father and alastor just tells the reader to call him father which the reader become happy since she didn't had anyone else at all

So when lucifer visits the hotel how he will react?

I could just when lucifer pointed it out alastor would have the biggest grin then spoke

"Oh?,well she calls me her father!"

I wanna see it sooooo badly‼️‼️

It's alright if you don't do it<3

Also can be called the servy anon?

I like your fics sm<3

Hope to see more of it<3

Have good day/evening/night<3

omg I LOVE mlp!! Of course I can write this, I haven’t got that far though so I’m not really sure how starlight glimmer acts but I did a bit of research and I’ll try my best to write this well!

PLATONIC/FATHER ALASTOR X READER X LUCIFER (sorry if this isn’t how u write it, I’m still new to this whole fanfic thing ^_^ ) Also this is kinda angsty, and requests are open!

When you were still a kid in heaven you saw Lucifer as the best father in the world! He loved and cherished you deeply, you didn’t think he would give you up that easily. Would he?

You wanted to play with him one day and looked everywhere for him but you couldn’t find him. You asked an angel if they had any clue where he was but they said he was banished with his wife Lillth because they rebelled against heaven.

he seriously just left you like that? Without a word? To say you were angered was an understatement. you were FUMING. But you also couldn’t help but feel so miserable and depressed that he just left you like that.

you thought he cared about you just as much as you cared about him. But you were wrong.

After a couple hundred years when you became an adult, all of that anger and sorrow that you had stored you from Lucifer, you finally snapped. You took it out on the angels which led you to getting banished for being rude and improper.

The first thing you did in hell was change your appearance because you knew Lucifer was the king of hell and you really didn’t wanna see him again after what he did to you. (You also kinda regretted taking your anger out on the angels who did nothing to you.)

Your first couple months in hell were agonizing as everyone here was so different compared to the angels and people in heaven. It felt like you were an outcast.

You tried to not use your powers as much but when it got really bad you decided to collect their soul and feed it into your clock. Or you sometimes dropped time in order to collect their soul as well.

As you were walking in the streets of hell one day you heard an advertisement about a hotel and it caught your attention. You looked at the tv for the ad and it described a hotel where sinners can be redeemed if they just try to become better.

It sounded like a breath of fresh air compared to all these other advertisements for clubs so you decided why not visit the hotel? It couldn’t be so bad.

After a couple minutes of walking you made it to the hotel and knocked on the door. You were taken aback as a blonde haired girl hugged you tight and welcomed you to the hotel. But you also noticed Vaggie was there.

The blonde hair girl introduced herself as Charlie and also Vaggies girlfriend. (You congratulated Vaggie in private and also mentioned to not let Charlie know about her identity.)

As you were talking to Vaggie in private after being introduced to the hotel and welcomed she told you that Charlie was Lucifer’s daughter. You couldn’t believe it.

Not only did he leave you behind, but he started a whole family without you even knowing. You were in disbelief and asked Vaggie to not let Charlie know that you were her older sister technically.

You both agreed to it and went back to the lobby. Charlie couldn’t help but notice you had blonde streaks in your hair that looked similar to her blonde hair but she just shrugged it off.

You were also introduced to a man named Alastor and he greeted you very kindly. And before you knew it you guys started growing a daughter and father bond.

He treated you just like his daughter if he had one, he filled the parental role that Lucifer never did.

It made your heart happy knowing that you could finally have a father figure that you knew wouldn’t leave you. You guys bonded over the span of a couple weeks and you accidentally called him dad once out loud.

He didn’t mind though and said that you could even call him dad because he thought it was sweet that you saw him as your father.

As the weeks went by Charlie finally had an idea to let heaven approve of their hotel she just needed to call her father to schedule a meeting with heaven for her.

The one thing you didn’t expect her to do was to invite him over though. Fuck. What were you supposed to do now?! You really didn’t wanna see Lucifer again and panicked internally.

You helped the crew set up the hotel for Lucifer’s visit but your anxiety just rose more and more the closer it got to an hour passing by. (Since he said he was going in an hour)

Once it was finally time to greet him he burst through the door and hugged Charlie tightly since he had missed her, he also greeted kiki, and razzle and dazzle. It hurt a bit seeing how much cared for her but didn’t care for you.

You tried hiding behind Alastor a bit but Lucifer looked at his way when he pointed out the reservations and noticed it was you even with the changes you did to yourself.

His breathe got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t believe it was really you after all these years. Oh how he regretted never taking you with him.

He approached you and looked at you closely before saying “[reader], is that really you?…”

He brushed some strands of hair out of your face before pulling you into a hug. That was not something the other members of the hotel expected.

You pushed him off quickly though as you were still angry and uncomfortable with him.

He didn’t get why you pushed him off, he thought you still missed him after all these years of not being together.

It didn’t take too long for Alastor to connect the pieces since he was good observer. You had those blonde streaks in your hair for a reason no?… that’s cause you were related to the king of hell himself, Lucifer.

Alastor than put his hand around your waist pulling you closer. (Not in a romantic way!!) He than spoke up about Lucifer’s behavior. “Lucifer if you don’t mind excusing me but, what exactly are you doing with my daughter?”

Lucifer seemed in shock when he said that. “YOUR daughter? Oh please, you remember don’t you [reader]? It’s me your father, Lucifer! He had a desperate and nervous smile on his face hoping that you would remember him.

Before you could speak up Alastor cut you off and spoke first “Oh really? That’s quite funny cause [reader] calls me her father.”

The whole room went silent after that. Lucifer couldn’t believe it, Alastor was just playing around was he? You were probably just having an inside joke with him but no, you really saw Alastor as your father instead of Lucifer, your ACTUAL father.

You saw the heartbroken look on Lucifer’s face and didn’t know what to say in response but managed to mutter something out. “I’m sorry, but it’s been hundreds of years since that day happened, you need to let me go.”

After managing to mutter that out you excused yourself and went back to your room in the hotel. After Alastor and Lucifer fought over you and Charlie, (and after Charlie and Lucifer sang the song together) Lucifer knocked on the door but you didn’t answer so he teleported inside your room.

Only to see you and Alastor on your rooms balcony together. You were crying on the floor from the painful encounter and Alastor comforted you saying sweet words to make you feel better.

Before Alastor or you could notice Lucifer he quickly left and went back to his palace and rethought about his choices he made with you. He knew he couldn’t get his daughter back, it was already too late. If only he made the decision to take you with him.

note: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!! please don’t be shy to send me requests, I’ll gladly write more fun things like this. ^_^

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 | helmut zemo x reader

@radmerrmaid requested a drabble with zemo and enemies to lovers. what happened is a whole oneshot. don't ask me how.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: DUBCON SMUT, enemies to lovers/hate sex, rough sex including hair pulling, degradation and name calling, restraint, a slap, and overstimulation, touchstarved reader, unspecified age gap, very mild violence (hand-to-hand combat and a mention of a previous gunshot wound), kidnapping, soft!dark zemo?

"It must drive you crazy," he purred, wrapping his fingers carefully around the crystal glass before picking it up. "Seeing me like this."

He smirked around his sip of bourbon— at least you figured it was bourbon— as you tried to keep a poker face. You didn't like the idea of being seen as crazy at all, let alone because of him. "Like what?" you pressed instead of admitting to it.

"Free," he shrugged. "Out of that cage you worked so hard to keep me in."

"Getting you there was my job," you corrected with a frown. "If keeping you there was mine, too... you'd still be in it."

He laughed lightly, if briefly, and shook his head. "Still so prideful. You're young, and you have something to prove."

"I have nothing to prove to you," you asserted, shifting your weight on your hips— it was sort of uncomfortable to keep standing, but it felt wrong to take a seat even though he'd offered you one when you entered. It seemed like a sign of trust. Not that he should be surprised by you acting aloof, when he'd offered to meet you here without even explaining why.

"No, not to me," he agreed, setting the glass down again and taking one step closer to you. "To your friends at the CIA."

He seemed to emphasize every letter of the acronym, a playful condescension in his tone. "Friends is a funny way to say it," you rolled your eyes, "like I do what I do because I want to be popular, and not because I want to keep the world safe."

"Safe from me," he added, "the evil terrorist. Right?"

You ignored his question, not really wanting to dignify it with an answer— or start some spiel about how you don't really believe in evil people, just actions that merit punishment, bla bla bla...

"Yet, you couldn't keep yourself safe from me," he went on, raising one eyebrow as he examined you. "Or, you can't. Here you are— alone, as I asked."

Obviously, you had tried to imagine some way you could have back-up for this, even just tell someone where you were going. But this was Zemo's turf, and he had eyes and ears all over the city... he would know if you tried to turn this into a sting. Instead, you only hoped to gain some sort of information tonight that you could use to track him down when he tried to run again.

"You're more trusting than I suspected," he smirked, gaze darkening a bit. "Or, more desperate."

"Maybe the right word is 'curious'," you proposed. "Clearly, you have something to discuss with me."

"I do," he nodded. "A question to ask you-- one I feel only you can answer."

You waited for him to ask it, but even just the way he sucked in a sharp breath made you realize he was going to bore you with some preamble first— just like him, really..

"You see, after evading you so many times—"

"Narrowly," you interjected.

"Maybe some times," he shrugged, smiling, "other times, I think I had plenty of room. But that's besides the point... the point is, here I am. I've probably bested you for the last time—"

"That's not—"

"Ah ah, no interrupting, please," he scolded gently. "I know you know that if I can keep a low profile here, your organization has no hope of getting me back. I simply have too many resources, and your superiors know my risk is relatively low. No?"

Again, you refused to answer, but the way you crossed your arms tighter and glanced away seemed to serve as enough of an agreement.

"So that's it— I'm free. It should be so simple," he sighed. "So, why am I disappointed?"

You furrowed your brows, staring at him in confusion. You were waiting for him to say something to give context to that, but he didn't— he only waited for your response with an earnest look. "Why... are you asking me that?" you wondered.

"Because you're the person who knows me best."

You'd never thought of it like that, and it was such a jarring idea that you began to shake your head almost instantly. "No, that... that doesn't seem right..."

"I figured you would take pride in it," Zemo grinned. "You tracked me for years, studied me, learned my habits... I had to do the same to escape you. I must know you better than anyone else."

"That's ridiculous," you scoffed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I just hoped you could tell me why I feel this way— why I feel so wrong about never seeing you again."

Your chest tightened. You couldn't bear to meet his gaze; your stomach felt sick and strange and you just wanted to run out of there, but what good would that do? You needed him to tell you something you could use, one last chance to catch him before it was too late.

"If I didn't know you so well, and hate you so much," he went on, "I wouldn't have the energy to keep running. And me? I'm your biggest case. Sometimes you act like I'm your only case. What is it about me, that you need to win against me so badly?"

"It's not you," you insisted instantly, "it's me— it's who I am."

"Maybe that's how it started," he suggested, "but you can't spend so long hunting someone without becoming a little obsessed with them— trust me, I would know."

You grimaced at him. "You— you can't be serious."

"Who will you be without me to chase?" he pressed anyways, matching some of your anger as he stepped closer again— almost too close. "Without this... passion, between us?"

"Don't step any closer," you warned.

"Or what?" he challenged. "No weapons, no soldiers— it's just the two of us here."

He stepped up again, nearly pressed against you, and you couldn't let him get away with that... you had to prove you meant what you said. You weren't armed, and you knew he wasn't someone you wanted to go up against hand-to-hand... but at the same time, it was one thing you'd always secretly wished for. A chance to wage this war the way it should be, the way it had always been: personal.

You stepped back at the same time as you swung your fist, giving yourself just enough room to gain momentum— but you weren't quite fast enough, and he blocked you. From then on it was fast, instinctual: he was stronger but you were quicker, and on the offensive.

You never quite landed a hit, but neither did he— which felt like a good sign, until you realized he wasn't really giving it his all. Dodging and blocking, yes, but he wasn't trying to win, just keep you at bay.

"Come on!" you yelled in frustration as you finally got in a kick to his chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall. "What are you doing, pitying me?"

"Hardly," he wheezed, a little affected by the hit, which made you smirk. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, putting your fists up and stabilizing your posture. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

He came at you, and finally, there it was... his real strength. That passion he'd been talking about, you could feel it.

Both of you were flushed and panting, exhilarated by the sport of it all. Unfortunately, right as you thought you'd found your moment— the weak spot in his form— it was a trap. When you moved in closer, he grabbed you and spun you around, holding your back against his chest so tight that you struggled to breathe.

But he didn't shove you down, didn't put you in a chokehold, didn't even threaten you or gloat about pinning you. Instead, he only held you tighter, and soothed you with a gentle 'shh' in your ear when you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you whispered, your whole body shaking as he ran his tongue up your neck.

"If it's curiosity that brought you here," he purred in response, "I can satisfy that."

"You can't be fffucking serious," you hissed, though a moan tainted your words as one of his hands ran down your body, the other still effortlessly holding you still.

"I know you so well," he went on, a deep growl in his voice as your eyes fell shut. "I know how lonely you must be. That's one of the things we share."

His hand was heavy and warm against your leg, even through your pants— and it was moving higher, petting your inner thigh as you shivered.  Though your mind longed to resist him, your body was desperate for any affection; because he was right, you were lonely.  You couldn’t think of the last time someone had touched you like this, and yet you remembered it didn’t usually feel this good.  His touch was precise and careful and teasing— not too awkward but not too cocky.  And the heat of him wrapped around you, his hot breath on your shoulder, his wider form encompassing you… how could it feel so good?

“And I know you’ve thought about this,” he added.  “That’s something we share, too.”

He couldn’t know that— he might be rich and resourceful, but he wasn’t omniscient.  If you were any more logical in that moment, you would’ve realized he was just guessing and denied it.  But his teeth brushing over your pulse didn’t exactly provoke your critical thinking skills.  “Fuck, I— fuck,” you choked out instead, shuddering when he chuckled proudly.

“You might hate me, draga, but you need me,” he explained.  “Your mind needs me, just as much as your body does.”

Something about the way his fingers traced up your side, teasing your breast before pulling away right before getting to anything too exciting… it seemed to bring you back to reality, at least partially.  You absolutely couldn’t do this— you couldn’t let him do this.  “G-get off me,” you choked out, struggling against him again.

“That’s what you want?” he taunted.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelped.

“Make me,” he challenged.

Bringing your foot down hard on top of his, he winced and you managed to break away, spinning around and shoving him back— he actually lost his balance that time, falling to the floor.  You were ready to deliver a firm and swift kick between his legs, but rolled over and grabbed your leg while it was up, bringing you down to the floor with him.

He laughed breathlessly, sounding a little frustrated, as you flailed for purchase against the floor— only for him to grab your wrists and pin you down, positioning himself over you with a grin.  His hair was shaken out of its style, hanging around his face which was flushed from exertion.  “You keep me on my toes, I’ll give you that,” he offered.  You tried to writhe again but he had you properly trapped now, with absolutely no way out.

“You wouldn’t,” you sneered incredulously.

“Wouldn’t what, dear?”

“You wouldn’t force yourself on me,” you completed.

He seemed a little surprised, hanging his head and shaking it.  “Oh,” he breathed, “no, I wouldn’t.”

A little relieved, you started to catch your breath.

“I don’t need to.”

He brought his lips down to yours suddenly— the collision was almost too rough, and yet it was the only thing that made sense for the two of you.  You groaned in protest yet submitted instantly, opening your mouth wide for his desperate and dominating kiss.

Your back arched up off the floor, and his weight seemed to sink down on top of you in response.  Though you hated yourself for it, you spread your legs a bit, just enough for him to rest his hips between— and fuck, you could feel it.  The hard, throbbing heat, you could feel it pressed against you and the most horrible moan was nearly lost to his lips.

He hummed back proudly, running his hands over your body, kissing you faster.

You were gasping for breath when he broke away, which only worsened when he latched onto your neck.  “God, I hate you,” you blurted out, just to remind you both that if this was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You hate me for all those times I embarrassed you?” he assumed, hands holding your waist and starting to slide up your shirt.  “For when I eluded you, wasted your time, made a fool of you?”

“And that time you shot me.”

“I winged you,” he corrected— like that was any better.

He tugged your shirt up and you raised your arms, letting him slip it off; he spotted the scar right away, a line across your arm just under your shoulder.  He cooed for a second before kissing it softly— too gentle a moment for you to let lie.  You shoved his jacket back next, helping him slip it off his shoulders before pulling him down to kiss you again.

Your sports bra had a clasp in the front, it was a bit unique in that way, yet he had no trouble with it.  Freeing your chest, he of course had to tease you a bit more— instead of groping your waiting breasts right away, he guided your arms down from where they held onto the back of his neck, lifting you up from the floor a bit so you could slide the garment off and toss it away.  

When you laid back down, the floor was cold, but the hiss you let out was more a response to him rocking his hips against you, teasing you through these stupid remaining clothes.  “You know why I hate you?” he returned as he started to unbutton your pants, even though you’d entirely forgotten that last part of the conversation.

Before he answered the question, he yanked your pants and underwear down to your thighs— and swiftly got his own out of the way.  Your heart raced; you weren’t totally convinced this was really happening, not until he pushed into you in one painfully sudden thrust.  You cried out, yet he took no mercy on you.  He was ruthless, in fact.

Choking on your broken cries, you arched up off the floor again as he hammered into you, rage and relief and desperation evident in every movement.  He had to hold your legs tightly just to keep you from sliding across the floor, which only ensured you took every stroke as deep as it could go— which was already too fucking deep.

“Say it,” he ordered, “tell me why I hate you.”

“I caught you,” you said— but you knew that would just make him angrier.  Maybe that was kind of the idea.

Stopping just long enough to tug your pants the rest of the way off— and leaving you naked while he was still mostly dressed— he descended over you and looked right at you, far too close, with a rageful stare.

“You trapped me,” he corrected gruffly.  “You played dirty.”

Before you had a chance to retort that all’s fair in love and war, he started to pound into you… harder and meaner than ever.  You didn’t surprise yourself by crying out, considering how intense and nearly painful the feeling was, but you were a little confused that the word you said was a needy yes!

"Those years in prison," he snarled, "you could barely call it living, life in that place— you put me there. I thought every day about how you put me there."

He yanked your hair, making you whine loudly and exposing your neck for his lips and teeth to explore freely.  

Finally, a hand latched onto your chest— a hot palm encompassing your breast and skilled fingers pinching lightly at your nipple.  You couldn’t believe how composed he was through all this— in many ways, he wasn’t, but he seemed to be deliberate with every way he touched you and that was far more togetherness than you had.

You weren’t together at all, actually… something about the heat of the moment, the way your body responded to him, the way he glared at you… you could already feel tension building inside you.  It wouldn’t be long, not if he kept going like this.

“I thought about you every fucking day, draga— that you were free, and I was trapped in that cell,” he growled.  “You missed it, didn’t you?  Chasing me.”

When you didn’t answer, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand; the shock of it made your walls clench on him, or at least you could blame it on that, but you had no way to explain the way you moaned a moment later.

He moved even faster, a sickening wet sound echoing through the room which you hated to acknowledge was your own body.  “The worse I am to you, the wetter you get,” he noticed, smiling for just a moment.  “What a filthy whore you are.”

“F-fuck you,” you stammered roughly.

“Actually, why don’t you?” he offered, grabbing you by the hips and rolling both of you over until he was on his back and you were straddling him.  “Show me how bad you need it.”

As much as you wanted to not do what he told you, your hips were already moving— your body was on its own mission now, desperate for pleasure and friction and heat.  Desperate for anything he would give.  You whimpered as you grinded down on him, feeling his cock go so much deeper than you imagined was possible.  “God,” you sobbed, tossing your head back and trying not to picture the way he must have been looking at you then.

His hands moved all over you, up your thighs and over your breasts, even wrapping around your neck once though they didn’t put on enough pressure to really choke you.  “Pretty girl,” he praised darkly, making chills dance over your skin.

But when his hands settled on your hips, trying to guide you the way he wanted, you’d had enough; you grabbed him at the wrists and leaned forward, pinning his hands beside his head.  He smirked up at you at first, but when you bounced your hips up and down while hovering over him, his eyes fell shut and he let out a deep groan.  “I’m close,” you panted sharply.

“You can make yourself come like this?” he realized, sounding a little impressed.  He opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment to get a better look at you, before almost instantly giving up again and dropping his head back to the floor with a moan.  “Fine, take it— just take what you need, draga.”

You held tighter to his wrists, mostly to keep yourself stable, and you felt his own hands ball into fists as you bounced faster.  “Oh god, oh god, oh god— yes!” you yelped, legs quivering as it struck you.  It seemed to come and go so quickly, perhaps because your strength gave out halfway through and you felt weak and paralyzed.  It had been ages since you’d felt pleasure like that… actually you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure like that, at least not so much all at once.

If only he were satisfied by that.  With your grip weakened, he easily pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and bucking his hips up into you rapidly.

“Fuck, wait, s-slow down,” you panted, whining weakly as he shook his head against the crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he purred.  “I won’t be able to slow down at all until you’re full of come, draga.  I want you dripping.”

You were all numb and limp now, so raw and sensitive inside— he put you on your back again and didn’t struggle at all to pull another orgasm from you.  The third, though, was a little more hard fought: he rubbed your clit with an almost painful amount of pressure, watching through dark eyes and with a sneering grin as you screamed and shivered.

“Not too loud, darling,” he warned, “the people in the streets might hear you, the window’s still open—”

“Fuck!” you shouted, high-pitched and shaky, and he covered your mouth with his other hand as he laid on you with a growl.

“Just one more, then I’ll fill you,” he promised.  “I only need to feel you come one more time.  You want a rest, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly, biting down on your shaking lip.

“Then give me what I want.”

Your final cry was stuttered and helpless, every final ounce of energy in your body being taken from you by the final forced peak of ecstasy.  But it wasn’t until you sighed out his name, barely audible under your breath, that he groaned against your neck and pumped himself deep inside you— every drop, leaving you full to the brim and then some.  

You didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him, but he held you far too tightly as if to make up for it, and didn’t let you go for quite some time.

It had only gotten darker and colder out, and the draft through the window eventually danced over your sweat-slickened skin.  When you shivered under him, Helmut lazily reached up to the couch nearby, pulling a throw blanket off of it and wrapping you both up in its soft embrace.  You sighed with relief from both the cold air and the hard floor, not even realizing you were falling asleep. 

Even when you woke up, you didn’t really notice that you’d been asleep— except that Helmut was gone, and the fireplace was going.  Sitting up as little as you could get away with to look for him— since moving at all was quite a task given how tired you were— you heard him coming around the corner and turned back to look at him.

He was in a robe now, and carrying two crystal glasses of water.  He smiled at you as he sat back down on the floor, laying beside you on the blanket and handing you your glass.  “Figured you would need this soon enough,” he explained with a soft voice as you sipped carefully at the water.  You weren’t really ready to talk to him yet, but you wanted to thank him for the water, so you just nodded and hoped that would get the point across.

The silence was probably only awkward for you— he seemed totally at peace, getting through most of his drink before setting it down on the floor and cuddling up to you again with a contented sigh.

You quietly drank the water, staring forward at the crackling fire, hardly believing where you were.  It actually sounded sort of romantic on paper: a dashing and wealthy older man, a penthouse apartment in a foreign city, a fire, a blanket, a crystal glass…

If it weren’t for the wanted terrorist, it might make for a good little fantasy.

Yet, you set your glass aside and laid back down with him.  He slipped an arm around you, holding your shoulder and petting it with his thumb, even kissing the side of your forehead sweetly.  “I don’t understand how you can… be like that,” you whispered, glancing down at his arm crossed over your chest.

“Not everyone is so afraid of their feelings as you are,” he countered, and you snorted a little.

“I’m not afraid of my feelings,” you denied half-heartedly.

“You’re afraid of me, then?” he wondered.

“Not… quite…” you murmured your answer, not even sure yourself what you felt.  “I mean, I drank the water, so—”

“I wondered if you would,” he laughed, “but I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, only half the glass, technically,” you noticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve had enough,” he shrugged.

“Enough?” you chuckled.  “After that, half a glass of water is hardly enough.  I won’t be recovered until I have a protein-heavy meal and probably a couple painkillers— if I wanna, you know, sit or jog or whatever in the next few days.”

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t mean enough to recuperate.  I meant enough for you to sleep until we get there.”

“...what?” you asked, turning over your shoulder with knitted brows to look at him.

“If even you know where you’re going, you might find a way to get out is all,” he explained flippantly.

“What… what are you…?” you started, shaking your head— but it didn’t shake off that funny feeling, that heaviness in your head.

“You see, I did think about you every day in my cell,” he went on, “and I thought about how, someday, I would lock you away— so you’d know how it feels, to be a prisoner.”

Whimpering as realization dawned, you sat up quickly to try to fight whatever was in that water… but it only seemed to make it worse, spots forming in your vision like when you stand up too fast— except they didn’t fade, just multiplied.

“I’ll treat you much better than I was, though,” he assured, “in fact, I think you’ll be better off than you were before… you’ll be mine, draga.  No one else will ever see you again.”

You tried to speak but it wasn’t really coming together— you tried to push him away but you only limply held onto him, looking up at his eerily blank expression with your fading vision.  As it all turned to black, he caught your head before it hit the floor, cradling it rather tenderly before kissing your cheek.

“Now,” he whispered to you, though you couldn’t possibly hear it, “let’s get you cleaned up— the plane is waiting to take you to our new home.”

[ddejavvu]

criminal minds request:

Hotch and reader have a some tension between them ever since reader joined the team. They never acted upon it knowing that the relationship would be the hr nightmare.

They live in the same complex and reader is spending the night with someone from the bar and Aaron interrupts with the news of a case.

I love your writing btw

thanks! <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Aaron's been inside of your apartment only a few times before, but he could walk there in his sleep. That's almost what he wishes he was doing, instead of marching towards your door at one thirty-six in the morning, but duty calls, and though he'd tried to do the same, you hadn't answered your phone.

When he reaches your door Aaron can hear faint noise inside, and something like annoyance prickles at his chest at the thought that you'd ignored his phone call to watch television. But he finds himself seldom able to feel anything but secretly fond of you, so he tries to give you the benefit of the doubt.

What the door opens to is far worse than television. Instead of the faint glow of a screen lighting the couch, Aaron is met with the sight of a man, mostly naked and only draped in a sheet. Your sheet.

This man was in your bed.

"Yeah?" He asks, rather rudely, "It's the middle of the night, man. What do you want?"

He suspects you've asked the man to answer the door because you don't want to do it yourself, appearing alone at night in most likely very little clothing. Aaron commends you on your survival skills, but can't shake the feeling that he suddenly wants to try his hand at murder.

"I'm Y/N's boss," Aaron mutters, eyes set in a sharp glare, "She's needed at the office."

"Man, fuck off," Your houseguest scoffs, "That's not gonna work on me. Leave her alone, you creep, or at least come back with a better lie next time."

The man tries swinging the door shut, but before Aaron can wedge the freshly polished toe of his shoe into the gap, you squeal from down the hallway.

"Hotch?"

"We have a case," Aaron barks, voice still rough at the presence of the other man present, "You didn't answer your phone."

"I'm sorry!" You come running down the hallway while wrestling with the waistband of sweatpants Aaron hopes are your own, fully clothed in those and a tank top as you reach the door.

"Uh, Dominic, this is- he's my boss," You pat the man's bare back apologetically where you sidle up beside him, "I have to go."

Dominic doesn't seem to be particularly kind to anyone, Aaron muses. The man rounds on you with a furrow in his brow that Aaron doesn't like one bit, "Seriously? Some suited-up fuck comes to your door in the middle of the night and you just run off with him?"

"It's my job," You plead earnestly, "I'm sorry! It's just bad timing."

"Whatever." Dominic grumbles, turning to stalk off down the hallway to retrieve his clothes, "Bad timing my ass."

Neither you nor Hotch decide to tell him that you can see the very thing he speaks of. He's only holding the towel over his front half, and the back half being completely exposed doesn't help the tough-guy persona he's trying to put on as he storms off.

"I'm sorry," You breathe, sounding truly apologetic as Aaron stands in your doorway, "I didn't hear my phone ring, I was- we were... well. I'll be dressed and ready in, like, ten minutes." You vow, "I just need to get him out of here."

Aaron's not sure he can manage to speak after your admission, because up until now he'd been trying to pretend there was somehow some other reason for there to be a naked man crawling out of your bed at two in the morning.

All he can muster is a terse nod, and you take it as disapproval rather than a bruised heart. You rush off to get changed, and Aaron hears Dominic bicker with you before he storms his way out of the hallway and through the door. Aaron doesn't move as he passes through, and Dominic runs into his broad shoulders. Aaron keeps his balance steady, not sparing Dominic a glance as the man makes a fool of himself on the way out.

"She's not even worth it, man," Dominic sneers at Hotch from down the hall, "She must be some kinda whore. Called me the wrong fucking name, like she does this every night. Aaron must have been the last guy."

Hotch is stuck. If he hadn't heard his own name escape Dominic's mouth he'd have used what he's learned as a serial killer specialist to dispose of Dominic's remains without ever being caught. He doesn't like the way that the man spoke of you one bit, but when he hears you've been speaking of him, his spine stiffens and his legs lock into place.

"Tell her I hope Aaron likes her mediocre tits more than I did!" Dominic shouts as a sendoff, and Aaron knows for a fact that he does. Mediocre is the last word he'd use to describe them, but he respects you and won't dwell on what term would be best.

Aaron almost regrets seeing Dominic leave, because he'd have liked to grill the man on exactly what went down in there. How did you say his name? When did you say his name? Did you say his name when glancing over at your ringing phone, and ultimately deciding to ignore it? Or did you say his name through an open-mouthed moan, sweat beading on your hairline and certainly-not-mediocre tits bouncing wildly with each thrust?

Aaron's head is so clouded with thoughts of your fucked-out, sex-hazy state that he's startled to feel your hand on his arm, and he tugs it out of your grasp, jerking away like he's been burned. Sure, his skin is on fire where you've touched him, but only because he wishes you'd do it more, especially in other places.

You take his reluctance to be touched as a bad sign, and your face dims into a hesitant frown as you stand at the ready by Hotch's side.

"I'm sorry, Hotch," You murmur, tucking your hand into the jacket that you're clutching now that you feel you've made a fool out of yourself, "Um- it won't happen again, sir."

He wants to kiss you. He wants to duck inside, slam your door shut, and press you against the inside, demanding a detailed account of why his name had fallen from your lips earlier in the heat of the moment. But he can't, he knows he can't, and he has to blink at your forlorn expression instead, feet heavy as he drags them away from your door, like magnets trying to pull him to your bedroom.

"No need for apologies, Agent." He grits his teeth, "What you do in your free time-" like moan my name "-is your business. Let's go, we're briefing on the plane; wheels up in thirty."

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

hii!! first off i wanna say congrats on 5k you deserve it so much!! can i do remus lupin and fake dating please and ty!

Thanks so much lovely!

cw: alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 969 words

“Your favorite color is green,” you say, passing Remus a glass of champagne. 

His brow twitches as he takes it from you, holding it by the stem like an adult. You adjust your grip on yours accordingly. “What?” 

“Your friend Sirius cornered me by the bar. I panicked.” 

“Ah.” Remus tucks a tongue into his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth, and takes a sip. “I’ve always told him I didn’t have a favorite.” 

You chew your lip, nodding. “Okay. That’s okay, we can just say you told me because you’re, like, so into me.” 

He chuckles. “So into you I divulged to you the deep, dark secret of my favorite color?” 

“Mhm. Think he’ll buy it?” 

“He might, actually.” He takes another sip of his champagne, and you remember to have a bit of yours. You could probably use it. Remus looks perfectly composed, and surprisingly dapper in his suit, done up to the top button with the collar just barely brushing a thin, pale scar circling a third of his neck. Contrastly, you’re a jumble of nerves. “Sirius likes to think I’m holding out on them, it might fit into his narrative that I’d kept it a secret all these years.” 

“And if he does figure it out, we could probably just tell him, right?” you ask, and somehow your champagne is half gone. Damned duplicitous, narrow glasses. 

Remus’ smile softens as it bubbles down your throat, and you know he can read what you’re thinking on your face. You’re a shit actress, an even worse liar. You’re going to ruin this for him. 

“We could,” he says, “but he’ll only tell James.” 

“Really?” You look at the man still standing by the bar, now chatting with a blonde you don’t know but suspect in a few minutes will have to pretend you’ve heard Remus talk about a million times. Sirius has managed to wear a leather jacket to a wedding, thrown on right after the reception in what Remus has informed you is typical fashion for him. He grins with one half of his mouth as he talks, flashing canines when he really means it. “He doesn’t strike me as a narc.” 

Remus steps closer to you as someone moves past him, lowering his voice. You can smell his cologne, woody and vaguely sweet. “He’s not. He and James tell each other everything, though.” 

“Oh. That’s sweet, actually.” 

James is the one you’re really here for. It’s his wedding, and months ago when he and his fiancee sent out invitations he’d asked if Sirius or Remus would need a plus-one. Sirius said yes immediately, and by some manner you can’t say you understand but Remus assures you is very typical of them, this evidently devolved into a bet on whether Remus could actually find a date that met his standards and that he was willing to ask to come to the wedding with him. 

As it turns out, Remus is more competitive than you would have guessed. 

According to James and Sirius, no one is ever good enough for him. You’re here to disprove that, though you don’t love that your work crush asked you out because he couldn’t find anyone he wanted to actually date. Still, Remus is your friend, and you were never going to say no to helping him. If you’d known you’d get to see him in this suit, you probably would have said yes even faster. 

“Do you want another?” Remus asks, and you look down to find your champagne glass is empty. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry.” You set the glass down on a nearby table, embarrassment a tickle over your skin. “Yeah, probably best not.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He tilts his head at you, smiling in that gentle, kind way of his. “You’re here not on a job, love, you should have a good time.” 

“I feel like I am, a little bit.” Your laugh bubbles out of you easily, fizzy like the champagne. “I want to at least act like someone your friends believe you could be interested in.” 

“Just be yourself,” Remus reassures you. “They’ll believe it.” 

Something in your gut flitters at what that could mean. You don’t let yourself think on it. “What if I wanted to dance?” 

He smiles. “Then you should do that.” 

“But would you dance with me?” 

“I would hold your things for you.” His grin takes on a sheepish quality. “Find a chair to watch with all the other lame boyfriends.” 

You tsk. “You’re not lame, Remus.” He looks like he wants to contradict you, but he kisses his teeth instead. “I think I’d rather stay with you, if that’s alright. We can go sit in chairs amongst the lame boyfriends if you like.” 

Remus considers you for a moment. The sky has turned a deep blue around you, the string lights hung up around the space casting a warm glow that filters through his hair and makes it appear more golden than brown. “I would go dance with you if you wanted me to,” he admits. 

You blink. “Really?” 

“Well, maybe not dance so much as hold both our drinks and stand near you while you danced, but I want to stay with you, too.” Remus glances away from your eyes for a moment, a shyness you haven’t seen since you first met in his expression. “If you want to dance, I’ll go with you.” 

You take his hand on impulse, the scars and calluses of his skin alternately rough and smooth between your palms. “I don’t want to make you,” you tell him earnestly, “but I really do want to dance.” 

Remus looks to the side, his smile almost begrudging. “You’re not making me,” he says. 

You end up getting another glass of champagne after all.

[undying-love]

Datalounge comments compilation

Remember to take everything here with a grain of salt:

“Ok guys someone told me about this site and i have been loving it so far. Anyway my great uncle who lived in Liverpool told me a story some years ago. He told me that John and Paul actually were living together at some point during the sixties (John even stated it in a 70’s interview) and he is invited by a friend of his to a party that John and Paul are having at their house. He said as he walked in he saw Paul, who was walking around in nothing but a white shorts and John some feet away playing pool. He said throughout the day John and Paul is behaving like a regular couple and he is shocked since so many other ppl are there. Later in the evening as he is getting ready to leave Paul casually walks over to him and thanks him for coming and he leaves. He told me this some years after John’s death because he was sure Paul would have admitted they were a couple, well it has not happened and I don’t think he ever will. I really don’t know what to make of this story since he was the first person I ever heard claiming John and Paul to be a couple but apparently he is not the only one! ”

“Since everyone is anonymous here, I guess I can give a bit of info I got from a female friend of mine who at one time was Paul worked as one of Paul’s assistants. According to her Macca is a bisexual, who makes no secret of this when he is around his inner circle. She does not know for certain if John and Paul were involved but she suspects it since to this day whenever John’s name is brought up he acts in her words ‘like a widow’ and he also addresses John in present tense. He would say things like, ‘John thinks that the music should be like this,’ and during his bitter divorce from Heather he was saying, ‘John says that this is getting nasty.’ Kind of creepy."

“Isn't it well known that Starting Over was written about Paul? At least I heard someone in the music industry mention it, and that Paul knows it. Also, it was reported that Paul locked himself in his music studio and listened to the song repeatedly after John died.”

“I worked in the music industry briefly from 67-70 and I have seen for myself some very revealing things but I don't find it appropriate to dish it out here. One day it will be revealed, definitely not while Paul or Yoko is alive maybe soon after. I'll return here to read all the threads. The most I can say for now, is Yoko gave a very watered down version of the names the Apples' staff gave to Paul, though they also gave a very derogatory name for John as well.”

“Actually the John and Paul rumours did not only emerge in our time. As early as the middle sixties rumours were beginning to spread in the music industry about what exactly the J/P relationship was involved. My grandfather was a entertainment journalist in the 60's and he stated that people were becoming suspicious about John and Paul as early as 1964. He also said that someone had made a comment about seeing John and Paul holding hands backstage during the music Lennon and McCartney tv special, though no one believed the person at the time. According to him the Beatles' camp began to go into panic mode and even went so far as to demand John and Paul no longer sit together in interviews. So believe me this John and Paul thing is nothing new. People have been creating stories about people's 'gayness' for years.”

“This John and Paul thing is so dated. I am from Liverpool and since the 60's rumours were swirling about John and Paul possibly being 'queers.' At the time I didn't think much of it, since it was guys who fought with them as kids who were spreading the rumours and so I assumed it was jealousy that fueled the rumours.”

“My uncle was a sound engineer for Granada tv studios in 60's and actually met the Beatles because he worked on 'the Music of Lennon and McCartney' special. He actually chatted with Ringo behind the scenes briefly but didn't speak with the others. I remember him telling me years ago that he was surprised by Paul's mannerisms because as he put it, it was overly 'swishy.' He also stated that John and Paul acted very strange throughout the evening. According to him they followed each other continuously even when it was not required, as one got up so did the other, as one sat so did the other, they would finish each sentences, and they were often seen staring at each other for excruciating periods of time (his exact words) he said behind the scenes people were joking about them being a couple because they seemed so close. My uncle told me this years ago but I always summed it up to their brotherly relationship. I am now reconsidering my position.”

"The one time I was ever actually in a room with Paul, zillion people between me and him (and no way I'm gonna bother him, all of us who travel in celeb circles have people we're fans of and all of us inexplicably try to hide it to seem "cooler"), he was hitting whiskey a little hard, and apparently it makes him confessional because he started talking loudly about himself and John, and how hard it was not to have him there. (Of course I paid attention and scooted a little closer; when a Beatle speaks about a Beatle, and you've heard rumors about both of them, you want the tea.) I remember him saying something along the lines of not a day passing that John's not still in it with him, but it's not like he can pick up a phone and say, "Hey, just needed to hear your voice today," and even when he got craggy responses, he still missed them. He misses it all, and it's bothering to him that he misses him more as time goes on -- it doesn't heal, he just learns new ways to bandage the wound. Went on and on, and stopped just short of saying too much. He was waxing rhapsodic about John's hands, and finally I think the people he was with noticed interlopers paying attention, and changed the topic".

“Saw this thread and decided I should post what I have heard. I can tell you that John and Paul never hid the fact that they were together in the 60's and they were referred to as music’s 'first official same sex couple' by those in their close music circles. I found this out from my mother who was a 'go for' for a music director in the 60's. She worked behind the scenes for the 'Help!' music video. She has seen John and Paul backstage and always refers to their behaviour around each other as cute, and claims after spending a few minutes with them it was obvious they were deeply in love. She said that George and Ringo would always excuse themselves whenever John and Paul began chatting up each other.”

[wholoveseggs]

Hey :) How about an idea like this: Elijah and Reader have been close friends. Almost like a couple minus the sex. Elijah opens up about his fear of being physically intimate with anyone because of his past history with women and his fear of falling in love and losing control. Reader shows him that there's nothing to be afraid of. Sweet, smutty, potentially biting ;)

Touch

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

After a dinner party with the Mikaelson family, you try to get Elijah to open up his heart to you.

♡♡ Thanks for the request darling @originals23, I love soft and sweet Elijah ♡♡

5.8k words - Warnings: angst, smut, oral sex, blowjob, biting, romantic as fuck, Elijah being so self-loathing...

Your friend Elijah was the whole package. Smart, witty, handsome, well-read, well-educated, and he dressed in clothes that could pay your rent. He was always so composed and dignified. You had no trouble understanding why a woman would fall for him; he was the quintessential tall, dark, and handsome.

But there was a deep sadness to him lurking underneath, accompanied by guilt and shame. You suspected that Elijah had been through something traumatic in his past, something that he couldn't bring himself to discuss. The most you ever got from him was that he had betrayed someone he had loved.

The two of you spent a lot of time together, taking walks through the city or going to plays. You loved hearing him talk about art, literature, philosophy. His deep, soothing voice made even the dullest subject come alive. You could spend hours with him, listening to him speak.

You wanted to be more than friends and you were putting out very clear signals for a while. He certainly wasn't a stupid man, so you didn't know what was holding him back. You figured he was either not interested in sex or he was scared to take things further.

He was always the perfect gentleman, even though you were pretty sure he was attracted to you. You had caught him glancing at you a few times, particularly when you were wearing something a bit revealing, and you saw his pupils dilate when he looked at your lips. There was always a tension between the two of you, which he was always careful to maintain at a friendly level.

It was getting a bit frustrating. He clearly liked you, so why didn't he just act on it? 

Elijah couldn't stop thinking about you. He had completely fallen for you, it was a rare and overwhelming feeling for him, and he was terrified of screwing things up. He had spent most of his life avoiding emotional attachment. He had his family, but no one outside of them. Until you came along.

You had managed to penetrate the cold walls that he had built around himself, and now he was in too deep. He couldn't stand the thought of losing you, so he tried to keep things at a platonic level. He was always careful not to let his hands linger on you, or his eyes stray. But sometimes it was so difficult to keep his desire in check.

But there you were, at a quiet dinner party with his family, wearing a red silk dress that clung to every curve of your body, looking like an angel, or a seductress, depending on your perspective. The neckline was low, showing off the top of your cleavage, and the hem was short, revealing the length of your legs. And it was tied in the back by these little strings, making it tight across your breasts. He couldn't stop thinking about undoing the strings and letting your breasts fall free.

The whole night he struggled to keep his eyes from wandering to you, his imagination from running wild. He couldn't stop thinking about how the silk would feel beneath his fingertips, the way your skin would feel, warm and soft against his hands, the sounds you would make as he took you apart, bit by bit.

But he had to ignore it all, you were a beautiful butterfly, and he didn't want to pluck your wings. He was determined to remain your friend and nothing more.

"Elijah darling, will you hand me that bottle of margaux?" Rebekah asked, nodding towards the wine rack.

Her words snapped him out of his daydream, and he reached for the bottle in question. He was pouring the wine into a glass for his sister when you spoke up.

"Can I have a glass too?" You asked, smiling at him.

He had been avoiding even looking at you all night and it hurt your feelings. You dressed up just for him, hoping that he would finally take the hint and realize that you were interested in him. He was always so composed, so restrained, but you had caught him looking at you several times and his gaze had been so intense, so heated, that it left you breathless. You were determined to take any opportunity to interact with him.

"Of course." He murmured, pouring the wine into a glass and handing it to you.

His fingers brushed against yours as he handed you the glass, sending a spark through your body. Your eyes locked for a moment and the air between you was charged with tension. His lips parted slightly and his eyes darted to your mouth, a flash of heat passing over his face. You felt your pulse quicken and your breathing become shallow. It all happened so fast, but it made you hopeful that he might actually reciprocate your feelings.

"Thank you," you whispered, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip.

The wine was rich and sweet, and the liquid slipped down your throat easily. You closed your eyes, savoring the taste, before opening them again and meeting Elijah's gaze.

"How have you been? We haven't talked in a while." You asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

"I've been fine, just busy with work," he replied, his eyes drifting over to where his brother Klaus was seated next to Rebekah.

You felt a little bold from the wine and you placed your hand on his knee. "You seem a little tense. Are you sure everything is okay?"

He froze, his eyes darting down to your hand and back up to your face. You smiled reassuringly and squeezed his knee. Elijah hated when you did this, he didn't like to feel afraid, and the sensation of fear, of his body tensing up and his heart racing, it all brought back memories that he had spent years burying.

He cleared his throat, "Yes, I'm fine, I just have a lot on my mind."

You nodded, sensing his discomfort. You were used to his aloofness, but it had never bothered you before. You knew he was a reserved man and that he had a lot going on in his head. But now, with you, it felt different. Like he was pushing you away, keeping you at a distance.

You turned to talk to Freya, trying not to let your disappointment show. You knew it was ridiculous to think that he would want you like you wanted him. He was your best friend and he probably didn't even think of you like that.

You looked around the table at everyone, you were the only one there that wasn't a Mikaelson or their partner. You were always welcomed like you were a part of the family, but tonight, it felt different. Everyone else was so happy, so in love, and you were alone.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room, the lights were dim and there was a roaring fire going in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the room.

You sat on the sofa, next to Klaus, who was engrossed in a conversation with his brother Kol. You took another sip of wine and glanced around the room, watching as couples cuddled and kissed, enjoying the atmosphere.

Elijah walked in with some wood to add to the fire, he took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, showing off his strong, muscular arms. You could see the outline of his biceps through his shirt and you bit your lip, trying not to imagine how they would feel wrapped around you.

He leaned down to place a log on the fire, there was something so primally attractive about watching a man build a fire, and you found yourself imagining Elijah naked, his body covered in sweat, his muscles rippling as he worked.

Your heart began to race and your breathing quickened. You shifted on the couch, pressing your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was building there.

Klaus got up and put a record on, the soft sultry tones of Nina Simone filed the room. You watched Klaus take Cami's hand and lead her to the middle of the room. He placed his hand on her hip, pulling her close to him, and they began to sway together, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

The other couples followed suit, and soon the room was filled with music and laughter and the soft murmur of whispered words.

Your eyes wandered to Elijah, the only other one not dancing, and he was looking back at you. The firelight reflected in his eyes, making them look like pools of molten chocolate. You stood and crossed the room, offering your hand to him.

He hesitated, glancing at his siblings, all so lost in their own lovers, then back at you. "Will you dance with me, Elijah?"

He looked nervous and uncomfortable, but he nodded and took your hand. You led him to the middle of the room and placed your hand on his shoulder, interlacing the fingers of your other hand with his.

Elijah's heart was in his throat, the feeling of your body so close to his was overwhelming, and his mind was racing, trying to figure out what he should do next. You started swaying slowly, following the rhythm of the music. He felt stiff and awkward, not sure where to put his hands.

"You can touch me 'lijah," you whispered, placing his hand on the small of your back.

Your words sent a jolt of desire through him, his skin tingling where it made contact with yours. He swallowed hard, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. You were looking at him with your beautiful eyes, filled with trust and affection.

The air between you was heavy with tension, and he knew if he didn't put some distance between the two of you, he would do something he would regret. But he couldn't tear himself away from you, the magnetic pull between you was too strong.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching his. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his body firm and warm beneath your touch.

"Tell me what's wrong," you asked softly, looking into his eyes.

He shook his head, his voice barely a whisper, "I can't."

"Yes, you can," you reassured him, stroking his cheek, "Just tell me, I won't judge."

He let out a long sigh and looked around at the others, each lost in their own little world. He couldn't do it, not here, not now.

Your heart broke at his unwillingness to open up to you and you could no longer stand to have him so close. You pulled away from him, and a flash of pain and confusion crossed his face.

"I need some air," you said, turning and walking out of the room.

Elijah watched you go, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He was frustrated and confused and he didn't know what to do. He knew he should follow you, talk to you, try to explain himself. But he was frozen in place, paralyzed by his own fear and indecision. In that moment he realized he had no choice, he could either wallow in his own misery and lose you or he could face his fears and hope you still wanted him.

He went outside, finding you standing under the stars, your arms wrapped around yourself, staring out into the night.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I didn't mean to upset you."

You turned to him, your eyes shining with tears, "I just want you to be honest with me, Elijah."

He stepped closer to you, reaching out and gently brushing a tear from your cheek. "I am afraid, Y/N."

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid that if we take our relationship further, I'll lose control. That I'll hurt you," he admitted.

You chuckled softly and shook your head, "You could never hurt me, Elijah."

He gave you a sad smile, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wish that were true."

You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he was struggling to find the words. You took his hand and looked up into his dark brown eyes.

"Talk to me," you said softly.

He let out a long breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Before I was turned, I met this woman, he name was Tatia," he began, his voice shaky, "she was my first love, and I would have made her my wife,"

"But you were turned vampire," you said softly, touching his arm.

"Yes," he sighed, his expression pained, "only a few days after I was reborn did I take her life,"

"Oh my god," you breathed, not able to imagine such a tragedy, "it wasn't your fault, Elijah, you had no control,"

"It is not so simple," he replied, looking away from you, "I..."

"It is that simple, I know your heart Elijah, and I know you would never intentionally hurt anyone you love," You interjected, placing your hand over his heart, feeling it beat steadily, and he covered your hand with his.

"I'm not a good man," he whispered, "I've done horrible things, hurt people, killed people."

You placed your other hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes. You could see the pain, the shame, the guilt, the weight of his sins drowning him.

"If you weren't a good man you wouldn't feel any shame," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "You're not a monster."

"I am," he insisted, his eyes welling up with tears, "I have snuffed out precious life, I've picked the wings off every beautiful butterfly that has landed on my hand," his voice cracked, and he turned his face away, unable to look at you.

You took his chin in your hand, turning his head back to face you. You could see the anguish in his eyes, the pain that he had carried with him for so long. He let you pull him close, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"There is light in you, Elijah," you said softly, "I can see it."

He pulled back and looked at you, his eyes searching yours.

"I'm a monster," he repeated, shaking his head, "I'm not worthy of your friendship, much less your love."

"That's not your choice to make," you said firmly, "only I get to decide who's worthy of my heart," you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his stubble tickling your lips, "and I choose you."

He turned his head slightly, his lips grazing yours, and your breath caught in your throat. Your heart was racing, and your body was humming with anticipation.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, and he leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft and warm, and you could feel the electricity flowing between you. You melted into his touch, his kiss igniting a fire within you.

Your hands traveled up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer, and he groaned against your mouth.

"My sweet Elijah," you murmured, tangling your fingers in his hair, "I've got you."

You felt his arms wrap around you, his fingers digging into your hips, and a thrill ran through you.

Elijah couldn't believe how good it felt to hold you like this, his body pressed against yours, your scent surrounding him, your lips against his. He was lost in the sensation, the pleasure of being so close to you, the way you made him feel, he had to have all of you.

"Come," he said softly, taking your hand and guiding you inside.

You followed him, your heart racing, the heat from his hand searing your skin. You didn't know what was going to happen, but you knew it was something special.

You climbed the stairs, your breathing ragged, anticipation coursing through your veins. He led you down the hallway and into his room.

The air was thick with tension, the energy between you palpable. You could see his shoulders were tense, his muscles coiled.

You could tell he was still conflicted, the war raging inside him. You wanted him to know that he was safe with you, that you could give him the love and affection he needed.

You undid the strings on your dress, letting the silk slip from your body, pooling at your feet. All you were left in was your panties, your breasts exposed to him.

He stared at you, his gaze roaming over your body, drinking in the sight of you. You reached out a hand to him, inviting him to touch you.

He slowly crossed the room, his eyes never leaving yours. He was drawn to you like a magnet, unable to resist the pull.

You placed your hands on his chest and slowly began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. Your fingers traced his skin, reveling in the feeling of him. You tugged his shirt from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor, your fingers exploring the planes of his stomach and chest.

"You are so handsome," you murmured, looking into his eyes.

He kissed you again, his lips parting as your tongue met his, and the passion between you ignited. Your hands went to his belt buckle, and you undid his trousers, sliding them down his hips and letting them fall to the floor.

He smiled softly, his hands going to the small of your back and pulling you in closer. You moaned at the feeling of his hardness pressed against you, and you rubbed your body against his, reveling in the sensation.

Elijah broke the kiss, backing you up towards the bed. Your legs hit the mattress, and you fell onto it, your hair spilling out around you. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. You bit your lip, the heat between your legs growing as you saw how much he wanted you.

He hummed in approval and bent over you, his lips traveling over the column of your throat. Your breath was coming in shallow pants as he nibbled and licked his way down your chest. He paused at your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth, and you gasped, arching your back.

You threaded your fingers through his hair as he worshiped your body with his mouth and hands. He worked his way lower, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles across your stomach. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs and discarding them on the floor.

You spread your legs for him, your pussy on display, he kissed his way up your thigh, nibbling and licking the skin. His lips found your clit, and sucked on it gently, drawing small circles with the tip of his tongue.

Elijah had dreamed of being with you like this, of being the one to bring you pleasure. He was lost in the taste and feel of you, the tiny moans you were making spurring him on.

He eased two fingers inside of you, and you let out a gasp of pleasure. He slowly moved his fingers in and out, the pleasure building inside of you, the sensation making your toes curl.

You had assumed he would be good in bed, but this was a whole other level. He was clearly an expert with his hands and mouth, and he was intent on making you come undone.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body humming with pleasure, your heart pounding in your chest. When he let out a groan of pleasure you came apart, your pussy clenching around his fingers, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

You fell back onto the bed, panting, your body limp and boneless. Elijah sat back, watching you as you recovered from your orgasm, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

You grinned at him, "You've been holding out on me."

"I'm glad I didn't disappoint," he said with a chuckle.

He lay down on the bed next to you and you got on your knees. He was looking up at you like he'd just won the lottery. You bent over him and began to trail kisses across his chest, your tongue tracing the lines of his muscles.

You took his cock in your hand, stroking his hard length slowly, and you looked up at him. He looked so beautiful and vulnerable like this, his face relaxed, his lips parted, his eyes full of trust and affection.

You slowly slid your lips around his head and began to gently suck and lick, you saw his hips jerk, a moan escaping his lips. His fingers found their way into your hair, lightly caressing you as you took him further into your mouth.

You let your saliva gather, coating your mouth, the sweet tang of precum coating your tongue as you lapped at his slit. You slid your tongue down the underside of his shaft, your tongue fluttering against the soft, sensitive skin there.

He felt so good, the weight and warmth of him in your mouth, his hands in your hair. You could tell he was getting close, his breathing heavy, his muscles tight. You could taste the salty pre cum spilling out of him, his hips starting to rock. Always so sweet and restrained, always so careful with you.

You moaned around him, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He let out a low groan of pleasure as he came in your mouth, his body tense as his release took him.

You gave little swallows, pulling all you could from him as he softened in your mouth. You looked up at him, your lips still toying with the head of his cock and he smiled softly, his hand coming up and wiping away a dribble of his cum.

Elijah could hardly believe you were in his bed, that he was with you like this, your mouth on his cock. You made him feel things he had never felt before, made him want to lose himself in you.

You placed a kiss on his lower abdomen and slowly moved up, straddling his hips. He sat up and kissed you, his tongue parting your lips as he explored your mouth. His hand trailed up your thigh to the curve of your ass and you pressed closer to him, your body flush against his.

Elijah was overjoyed that he was about to make love to you, his friend, the person he loved and trusted the most. You had been the only person he had ever opened up to about his past. The only one who had ever seen him so vulnerable. He never expected it would lead to this but he was glad it had.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your nose brushing his skin. His hands explored the smooth curves of your body, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your hips. You kissed along the curve of his jaw, his stubble tickling your lips.

"This feels nice, I like touching you," you murmured, smiling up at him, your heart full of affection for him.

"It do too," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

His hand moved down the outside of your thigh to your knee, drawing circles on the soft skin there. He moved your legs slightly, letting him take control, your heart raced with anticipation. He spread your legs a little more, his fingers trailing up the inside of your thigh, teasing you, leaving you wanting.

You bit your lip as you watched his hand move further up your thigh. You could feel the heat of him as his hand got closer to where you wanted him the most. He kissed you as his fingers gently grazed over your clit, and you moaned softly.

Your fingers trailed over his chest, teasing him in turn, as he continued to stroke you. The softness of his touch combined with his strength was a heady combination. 

"Elijah," you gasped, his fingers slipping into you.

He hummed in response, a deep, pleased rumble as he moved his fingers in and out of you slowly. His cock was hard, throbbing as he pleasured you. The air around you was thick with desire as the two of you gave in to your desire.

"Please," you breathed, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

He smiled and removed his fingers from your dripping cunt, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you in closer. You took his cock in your hand and guided him into you, his length filling you slowly.

Your eyes met as he sank into you, his eyes full of adoration, the intimacy between you intense. His hands went to your hips and he slowly rocked you against him, your breasts pressing into his chest.

Soft, wet sounds filled the air as you began to move together, his hips pressing up into yours as you rolled your hips against him. You kissed his chest, licking and nibbling, making your way up to his throat, his stubble tickling your cheek as you left small love bites.

Your clit was rubbing against the base of his cock and you were starting to feel that sweet ache deep inside you as your pleasure started to build. He felt so good, his hands gripping you tightly, pulling you close as you both rocked and grinded together.

His eyes were turning black, veins snaking under his skin and his fangs descended. Your blood was pounding through your veins and you were both breathing heavy. He was trying to fight it, not wanting you to see that side of him, he wanted to be gentle with you. He'd never let his guard down with anyone.

You were fascinated by it, the way he was starting to let go. The way you were getting to see him like this, so raw and vulnerable. You felt closer to him than you'd ever felt to anyone and it filled your heart with so much joy. You brought a hand up to trace the moving veins, feeling them throb under your fingers, the way the skin tightened around his eyes.

"It's okay, you don't have to hide," you said softly, cupping his face.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing. You felt his muscles relax and you felt a thrill go through you knowing that he was letting you in. You began to bounce slightly on his lap, taking his cock deep inside you.

He groaned as you tightened around him, the heat inside you growing. He held you close, his breathing ragged, your skin hot and slick as your bodies moved together. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he kissed and licked your throat.

Your head lolled back, baring your neck to him, the trust you felt for him made him feel a wave of affection for you. You could feel his fangs grazing your skin and you knew what he needed. You could feel the hunger coming from him.

You brought a hand to his head, holding him close, and you tilted your head further. You were offering yourself to him, offering to share in your most intimate moment with him, to feed him.

"It's okay baby, you can taste me," you murmured, stroking his hair.

He let out a growl as he sank his fangs into you, your sweet, coppery blood flooding his mouth. His grip on your hips tightened as he held you against him, your bodies flush against one another, as he drank.

He felt a rush go through him, your blood invigorating him like a drug, filling his body with warmth and pleasure. The sweetness of you, the softness of your skin, the scent of your arousal filling his nose was making him lose all control.

In one swift movement he flipped you over, his weight on top of you, his hips never leaving yours as he pinned you beneath him. He was taking control, taking what he wanted, the look of pure bliss on your face making him fall further.

You spread your legs wider, your hands digging into the muscles of his back, and you ground yourself against him, the new position letting you take him in deeper. You felt his tongue trace the wound in your neck, the pleasure of him drinking from you making you moan.

Elijah pulled away, looking down at you. Your skin was flushed, your hair fanning out around your head, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his long, long life. He wanted to share everything with you, the dark and light, the pleasure and the pain. You were the person he loved the most and he wanted you to feel just how much he adored you, needed you.

He kissed you with an intense passion, pouring all of his love into you. He was done holding back, done denying himself of you. He'd loved you from afar, his desire for you growing. You had shown him a new kind of affection, a different way to see the world.

He gently bit down on his lip, sharing his blood with you. You were eager as you licked it away, savoring his taste. You felt him deep in your soul, your blood singing with pleasure. The intimacy of it, of sharing something so deeply personal, had your heart full to bursting.

The room was filled with the sound of your panting and moans, the wet sounds of your bodies coming together, and your hearts were beating in sync. He moved in a deep, steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze full of tenderness.

His hands traced up the sides of your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps, before finding your wrists, he pinned them to the bed above your head, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel how close he was, the muscles of his arms tight, his back tense as he tried to hold back his release.

He could feel it, the warmth deep in his core, the need to release building. He wanted you to come with him, to share in the pleasure with him. You wrapped your legs around him, drawing him in closer, your hands gripping his as he pinned you to the bed.

"Let go baby," you gasped, the words falling from your lips, the heat between your legs building to a peak.

His pace quickened and you were right there with him, the pressure inside you building to a peak as you teetered on the edge, and you let out a low moan as your pleasure crested and crashed through you, the orgasm rolling over you like a wave. You were both coming together, the sensation of being inside you as you clenched and trembled around his cock pushing him over the edge.

You rode it out, clinging to one another, lost in the sensation as the wave of pleasure ebbed and flowed through your bodies, his warmth spreading deep inside you, your blood pounding in your ears.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and he bit down again, sharing in your ecstasy, the sweetness of you flowing over his tongue, the way your body felt clenching and fluttering around his cock as he emptied himself inside of you, it was bliss.

He drank slowly, your hands tangled in his hair, your body pressed close to his, the warmth of your release coating his cock. You were limp, exhausted in the most satisfying way, his cock softening inside of you, his breathing coming in shallow pants.

He pulled away and kissed the wound tenderly, sealing it up with the warmth of his tongue as he slowly lapped away the blood. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, the feel of his skin on yours so intimate and right.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice soft.

You turned his face to yours and you smiled. You leaned in and kissed him, softly at first, but you found yourself deepening the kiss. Your body responded to him immediately, desire beginning to simmer once more.

"I love you," you said softly against his lips, your eyes searching his.

You had always been afraid to tell him how you felt. You knew it might ruin what you had but you couldn't hold back. Not after this. Not after what had just happened. You knew the feeling was mutual, he loved you, he always had, and it made you so happy you could cry.

"I love you," he breathed, his eyes full of affection, and it made you melt.

"Can we stay just like this?" You asked, feeling a blush creep up your face, and he smiled and nodded.

He gathered you into his arms and laid back on the bed, pulling the comforter over you as you curled up against him, your head on his chest, his arms holding you tight. You were content to lay there, the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath your head as you lay wrapped in one another's arms.

Elijah could feel you dozing off as the night grew later. You were exhausted but content, and you wanted to stay with him, just like this, for as long as you could.

He had made many mistakes in his long life, he had hurt people, he had done terrible things. He never thought he would be able to have anything good like this in his life, he didn't feel like he deserved it. 

But as you slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn't help but think that he must be doing something right.

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