#no one wants a warm unit of energy?
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sunalee · 2 months ago
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showtime
about them watching a concert with you.
with: seventeen hip-hop unit
part two
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seungcheol is the one who shouts the lyrics as loud as you, jumping and boosting with energy like he's the one performing, and making sure to record videos of you, his star, or both of you, singing together and enjoying the show, just so he can keep these special moments with him.
mingyu likes to hold you from behind and sway you side to side at every romantic song, singing right near your ear in a soothing tone, making sure to dedicate all of those sweet loving words only to you. He takes the chance to leave small kisses on your temple, breathing your scent and sharing his warmth and heart with you.
wonwoo has a habit of glancing at you every few minutes as you sing along the crowd, like he's trying to capture every single feature of you enjoying the moment. And when your eyes meet, he gives you a warm smile, that with all letters means: "I'm happy to be here. I'm happy to be with you."
vernon knows at least half of the setlist songs's lyrics, and loves to simply sing with his heart. But instead of singing for the artist, he likes to sing for you, loving the duet that you both create just like when you're listening to the music indoors. Singing along with you is surely the best moment for him.
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a/n: I'm so in love with this. I want to make more.
© sunalee 2024 — all rights reserved.
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gghostwriter · 24 days ago
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Time is a Fickle Thing
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Girl Dad!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer realizes how important it is to occupy the present and be active in the little things Trope: Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.48k a/n: this was inspired by an essay I read over the week titled ‘Learning to Measure time in Love & Loss’ by Chris Huntington. It’s very profound so I would suggest you go read it—Andrew Garfield also read it on the podcast called ‘Modern Love’ so go listen to that too. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
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There was still an array of paperwork to be done in his desk at Quantico. Case files that needed to be written down and reviewed by his unit chief, Emily.
The past Dr. Spencer Reid—the one who was still wet behind the ears and green in the eyes of his team members, would have found the droll of filling out forms therapeutic. But now at his age of 40, everything else—typing out information and grading essays, were chores that demanded his every waking attention. He had found himself agitated with the looming workload that seemed never ending.
“Daddy,” a sweet voice murmured beside him. The source—a small body nestling closer to his side.
He hummed in reply, absentmindedly as his brain was preoccupied with estimating how many hours he needed to finish checking submissions in lieu of sleep.
Tiny hands patted his cheeks. “Daddy,” the sweet voice now coated with a hint of urgency.
Spencer’s hazel eyes locked with a pair of replicas. “Yes, Aurora?”
“What happens next?”
Shaking his head, he glanced down at her choice for a bedtime story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and realized it was the end of a chapter. Reading together was a sacred ritual he formed ever since he had found out you were pregnant.
It made you giggle when you pointed out that she, still a fetus cocooned safely in your body, would not understand the works of The Giving Tree or The Rainbow Fish. He rattled of statistics that although she couldn’t understand the meaning, she could still hear quite well.
In truth, he wanted her to know him—his voice, his presence. Her father who was quite scared to bring in an innocent into the world.
Still, scared even.
Her pink bottom lip jutting out into a frown, reminiscent of the ‘look’ his wife gives to him that renders him speechless and pliable to demands.
It was fascinating how you and him created such a perfect combination—a seven year old daughter who was into reading, as he was, and confident, as you were.
“Daddy, what happens next?”
The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. The look of exasperation on her tiny face was adorable.
Everything about her was captivating.
“Well, sweet pea,” he began to close the book. “That would be a story for another night.”
“But—”
“Remember what we promised?”
She sighed, gripping her white bunny—a gift from Aunt Penelope, closer. “One chapter only.”
“That’s right,” tucking the stray tendrils away from her angelic face.
As he started to stand up from his precarious lying position on her gingham patterned bed, Aurora’s tiny warm hands gave his sleeves a double tug.
“You’re forgetting something, Daddy.”
He leaned in to give her forehead a kiss.
“Is that it?” He teased.
She giggled, her feet kicking under the covers. “No!”
Brushing his fingers behind her neck—her tickle spot that matched yours. “What about this one?”
Aurora squealed, her infectious happy energy warming his heart. She was a treasure and he felt blessed to be considered her father.
“Stop Daddy, stop!” She sat up, hands crossing over her chest to state she meant business.
Spencer conceded, showing his hands in front of him—a sign of surrender. If she was standing, he could just imagine her little foot stomping on the ground and taking in a wide stance she learned from observing Uncle Morgan.
“Mommy always said you never forget anything,” she argued. “She said you have an ei-eid—perfect memory.”
“Eidetic memory, Aurora, and yes, mommy is right.”
She tilted her head then, her wavy hazel hair swaying behind her. “Then how come you don’t remember?”
“How about giving me a clue then?”
She huffed. “Best part, worst part, Daddy! You forgot to ask me!”
Oh.
That was another ritual he added when Aurora started to learn how to string words along. Although there were nights away from a case that he could not read to her, he always made it a point to ask her via call the best and worst part of her day. It made him feel connected with her even though he was miles away.
“Oh how could I forget, sweet pea,” Spencer sat back on the bed, tucking her back as he went. “Now, can I know what your worst part is?”
She went silent for a moment. Deep in thought, brows scrunching together.
“When Mommy didn’t allow me to wear my new rain boots to school. She said it’s because it wasn’t raining but I really wanted to wear them.”
He laughed, having heard of the small disagreement you had which made you late for work. “We only wear rain boots when the weather is sad, remember?”
Aurora nodded.
“And what about the best part?”
She smiled, the answer quickly spilling out of her. “This is, Daddy.”
Spencer could feel the effect her simple words had to his system. It warmed his heart that expanded for two when she came into the world. It put a halt to any train of thought in his brain.
“Want to know a secret?” He whispered. “This is mine too.”
Tiny hands rubbed her drooping eyes before further nestling in her bed. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”
He slowly crept out of the room.
“I love you too,” he flicked the light off and closed the door behind him.
Spencer found himself repeating those words and slowly lamenting over missed milestones in her burgeoning life.
Her first steps.
Her first tooth falling out.
Her latest family presentation in school in which you recorded her explaining where he was and what he does for a living—catching bad guys.
In his focused dedication in trying to make the country a better place for her future, Spencer had forgotten to appreciate the present, her growth, and the very notion that time could not be reversed to live the mundane things that make everyday worth living.
Aristotle once said ‘time crumbles things; everything grows old under the power of time and is forgotten through the lapse of time.’
It was a concept he was familiar with by the ripe age of nine, having spent his early youth in isolation and soaking up every thinking thought from the great minds that had roamed this planet before him.
He never forgot the words—not that his memory would allow him to.
And yet, as he found himself sitting on his desk, a cup of fresh tea in front of him, the phrase came to surface like a forgotten pair of lucky socks hidden within the depths of a cabinet.
Perhaps it was his heart that kept it hidden or better yet forgotten, a feat on its own. Perhaps during his tender age, he had yet sculpted the capacity to digest what it meant to his very soul.
Or perhaps, it was a sign from the unknown to focus and live in the present.
She was growing and becoming her very own person right before his unfocused eyes.
Spencer sighed, feeling a pair of arms glide to wrap around his shoulders.
“What’s got you so down, handsome?” You left a kiss on his cheek.
He intertwined your hands together. “It’s just—I missed out on so many milestones. Does that make me an absentee father?”
You walked around him before propping yourself on his lap. “I don’t think so, Spence. Why? What brought this on?”
“I found myself thinking about work when I should be focused on spending time—reading to Aurora. It made me feel sad that she was looking forward to our nightly routine and there I was, thinking about paperwork.”
There was a flash of sadness in your eyes as you caressed his cheek. “That’s alright. We all have our moments, Spence. You just got caught up with life and the responsibilities it has given you,” a lithe finger twisted a loose tendril blocking hos vision. “I know—we know, Aurora and I, that you being busy doesn’t mean you love us any less.”
“I just wish I wouldn’t miss anymore, love.”
You trailed kisses all over his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, before landing perfectly on his awaiting lips. “And I know you’d try your best moving forward.”
“Have I told you I love you?” He teased, arms securely on your waist. “Because I do and I feel lucky to have an understanding partner as you.”
“I love you too, Spence, and Aurora loves you too,” you giggled. “And between you and me, I think you’re still her favorite parent.”
Head thrown back, he laughed, thighs shaking from your admission. “It’s because I cave more to her whims more than you do.”
“Well, there’s that too.”
You gave him another kiss.
“We can try to be more present next time—together. I won’t let you doubt yourself. Okay?”
“Okay.”
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Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
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grandisknight · 2 months ago
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dots and dashes | sylus
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summary: Sylus gives insight into one of the many languages he's well-versed in.
tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, afab!reader, banter, morse code, vibrator, sex toys, orgasm edging, f!orgasm, aftercare/morning after, gift giving, evol abilites (sylus' energy manipulation), a pinch of fluff
wc: 2.6k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist
a/n: mildly inspired by one of his older text messages (affinity 37’s text message: deal)! also around his pre-debut, he had morse code in one of the teasers (official weibo post here) and i thought that was pretty neat so here we are ^_^)7
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The leader of Onychinus kept a plethora of languages stored away under his sleeve. A man of multiple tongues and talents, you just wanted to know how to say one thing—anything, really. 
Though, you didn’t think he’d take a silly comment in passing so seriously, and it landed you in his personal study the following evening. A rare day where your schedules aligned, Sylus took the opportunity to extend a warm welcome into the N109 Zone under the promise of a ‘lesson.’
Of all the languages, morse code was what he decided to reveal in his cards. A curious choice, to say the least, but it piqued your interest nevertheless. Cozied in one of the cushioned chairs, a beginner’s guide laid flat across the desk with your scribbled notes. Sylus’ chair was tucked to the side in observation, accompanying your lessons as a stand-in teacher of sorts.
Time passed in this way—he would offer a series of taps and drags with his fingers against the surface, and you would write them down. He was patient with you all throughout, solidifying the foundation for the alphabet before switching to small words and phrases.
A question that had been plaguing your mind since you arrived drifted into the air during a self-proclaimed break. “By the way, why do you know morse code?” 
With a hand propping your chin, your gaze takes in his relaxed figure. Comfortably dressed in his light gray sweater, the detailed threads of silver patterns painted him in a softer aura that juxtaposed his usually formidable appearance. Rimless glass coveted the rubied gaze that would occasionally meet yours, though occupied in thought. 
It was distracting, to say the least. A handsome distraction at its finest, though it doesn’t pull away from the message he quietly relayed to you.
A dot, two dashes. A series of dashes, another dot and some more followed.  (.-- / --- / .-. / -.-)
Counting off the units that met the table in muted taps, you answer, “Work?”
“Good ear, sweetie.” Sylus nods, leaning back and adjusting the thin frames balancing atop his nose. “Sometimes, negotiations are better said without words.”
“That’s a thinly veiled way of saying threats, but sure,” you retort. He doesn’t deny your claims, rather letting out a small chuckle in acquiesce. 
Sylus taps your forehead with his forefinger, amusement quirked in his brow. “You’ve seen the kind of talks and people I’ve dealt with. Who knows, you could use this in one of your little undercover missions too.” 
His hands return to nestle in his lap, and it catches your eye then—a faint snap and swirl of black manifested into a box underneath his palm. Perfectly fitted and nearly hidden if it weren’t for the glimmering trim around the edges, and the fluttering crow feather swaying towards the floor.
“Curious, are we?” Sylus voices your thoughts, fingers drumming against the lid. 
Two dashes and a dot, a couple more dots, another dash-dot and lasting dash. (--. / .. / ..-. / -) 
“Gift,” you echo upon realization. 
Your eyes wandered between his lap and the sparkling rubied gaze that honed his presence, reading between the lines. “Don’t tell me it’s another gun? Last time I checked, my Harrier 700 still works well.” 
And the last thing you wanted to deal with was a run-in with customs, if that were the case—he’s already tried his luck before, and you weren’t counting on his luck index to grant a second chance.
“You’ve been taking good care of it, so there’s no need for a replacement,” Sylus says. He leans back, tapping a forefinger to his temple in thought. “I thought it would be nice to get you something for studying so diligently.”
It had your back straightening in attention—now you really had no idea what he could be hiding. Even so, a scowl sketched onto your face, wondering if you’ve walked into a trap. A dry chuckle parts his lips at your clear interest and adamant attempt to maintain a façade all the same.
“Sweetie, it’s all yours.”
“It’s not that simple though, is it?”
“Ah. You know me so well,” he muses. “As vigilant as ever.”
The box finds itself on the desk and his hands reach for your chair. They dance over the armrest before turning your full front towards him—where his cocked head and curled lips asked, “Let’s make a deal. How does that sound?” 
“What’s the catch?” Your heart jumped into your throat, unsure of when the air became so… palpable. Damn him and his ridiculously handsome face, you couldn’t tell if it made this more bearable or stirred your senses further. “I might be willing to wager.”
“Relax, that’s one of the conditions.” His larger fingers swipe over one of yours, which had subconsciously curled into a fist. Gently, he coaxes your hand to open into his, soon neatly slotted and all encompassing with warmth. “You look nervous, and I haven’t done a thing.”
“I know.” Your shoulders relax when his thumb massages yours in a light stroke. “But you haven’t done anything yet,” you clarify.
“Which brings me to my second condition.” He brings it closer to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours when he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “A test, if you will. You pass if you manage to decode my sequence correctly.”
“My sequence,” you pause, catching the tail end of his proposal. “So there’s only one?” 
“Why, do you want a whole pop quiz?” He snickers, a brow raised. “We’ll be stuck here all night if that’s the case.”
“Nevermind,” you shake your head, finding the prospect to be less than charming. One was more than enough to take on your plate.
You purse your lips then and poke in jest. “Are you doubting my academic prowess now?”
“I would’ve dismissed you entirely if I was,” Sylus points out, tugging your hand towards him. 
It jerked you forward unexpectedly, though it seemed he was anticipating this—smooth swirls of red and black tangled around your body, gently placing you atop his expecting lap before softly dispersing. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’re as bright as they come,” he adds in honesty.
“What the—hey, now!” A flush ran across your cheeks at the newfound proximity. 
Hips hovering above him, you nearly fell onto the fine meeting place between his thighs. You save yourself the embarrassment, reaching for the chair’s headrest to steady your shift. He allows you this much, your legs soon bracketing his own and enjoying the sight all the same.
You huffed, “Is this part necessary?”
“Par for the course, actually.” Sylus’ fingers ghost over your sides, before settling atop your thighs and his palms lying flat in a gentle caress. “You can always back out if you’re not game.”
An arrow to your pride dug into your heart at the mere offense. The competitive spirit that once laid dormant jerked into consciousness—absolutely not.  “No, we’re on. Do your worst,” you raise in steadfast confidence. “I can take it.”
“Those are fighting words,” he says. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable, teetering on a fine line of fondness and scheme alike. “But I’ll hold you to it.”
So, maybe your confidence could only carry you so far. 
Rather, it tumbled you into a predicament at the cost of your exposed cunt. His free hand lazily dimpled into the plush of your hip, simultaneously careful to keep you steady. No longer a comfortable chill, the study’s air swirled into a concoction of heat and burning salacity in every inhale.
“Sweetie,” Sylus purrs. “You still haven’t answered my question.” 
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. The game of codes was the last thing on your mind when a fine man of caliber was perched beneath you, gracefully stringing you along and allowing you the same right.
Easily thrown out the window, especially so, when all inhibition was lost to his kneaded touches and peppered kisses. The smooth movements that treasured your skin with care, tugging your bottoms down just enough in the process and tenderly appreciating you throughout the heat of the moment. Even his hair stuck out in one direction to the next, unkempt from the field day your tugging fingers reshaped the silver stands into. 
Be that as it may, you still groan, chest rising to catch your breath. Nails drag into planes of his firm shoulder blades, lightly leaving their mark. “It’s because you’re not playing fair, Sy.” If you had a nickel for every time you were close to crashing in his embrace from an impending climax, it would be two. While it’s not an impressive sum, both were earned in the past few minutes alone, under the direction of his cunning smile and newfound toy in hand.
To his kindness, he pulls the rounded head of the vibrator away from your clit—the once muffled hums rang out more clearly, whirring at the highest setting. It glistened to the naked eye, finely coated in a layer of your evident arousal.
“All is fair in love and war,” he says, unphased by the line of bait you failed to reel in. He leans forward to press a kiss into your temple, a sign of affection pairing with a gentle squeeze to your side. “Should I be nice and walk you through one last chance?”
Your hands trace the curves melting into his neck, grazing his nape in forewarning. “Thin ice, Onychinus head.” 
“Alright,” he muses, though reveling at the added pressure that only spurs him further. “No need to get so formal with me.” The vibrator lowers in the same breath to meet your anticipating heat.
“Five letters. Ready?”
Your hips roll forward then, impatience losing its virtue if meant you could finally, finally seek some relief. “Was practically born ready, at this point.” And then, the first rhythm played out in three, gentle presses to where you needed it most. 
Three dots. (...)
This was fine, you could handle this much.
A moment of pause soon sways into the vibrator sliding between skin, returning to the apex of your labia, and dipping once again. 
A dash, added dot, and paired dashes thereafter. (-.--) “Still with me?” Sylus asks, taking in the sight of your eyes screwed in concentration. It was endearing, in some sense of the word, and his gaze lingered on your expression in intrigue.
Though grateful for the concern, you chide when your breath allows it. “Don’t stop, go all the way already.”
To stop halfway tested what little patience there was left in you. You raised your head to find his circles of crimson brimming with a fondness and undivided attention. All for you.
The grin he graces you with carries the same sentiments, newly tinted with mirth. “Whatever the boss wants.” 
The humming returns without warning, and you jerk against the touch, gasping. A press and slide, following upwards once more in double succession. 
Another dot, dash, and two dots in a row. (.-.. )
You were quickly beginning to piece together the puzzle he left you to solve, the audacity of it all.
Before you could admonish such revelations, you bite your tongue when he continues into the next piece. It was fleeting, but memorable—identical presses and a sinister slide, the buzzing toy greeting your entrance in slick abundance. 
Two dots, and a dash. (..- )
“You’re not—” Your eyes grow wide at the newly placed prodding. 
“Getting cold feet? A minute ago you wanted me to go all the way,” Sylus recalls with a click of his tongue. “It would be unlike you to stop right before the finish line, sweetie.”
You squirm against him, sensitive and incredibly aware of the coil threatening to unfurl. He takes notice, hand stilling in consideration.
“You can do it,” he croons, forehead to yours and capturing your fluttering gaze.
“Never said I couldn’t,” you say, a swallow sealing your determination.
Sylus smiles. “Last letter. Let's make it count.” The vibrator slips into your cunt, whirring against your walls in a sense of overwhelming ecstasy. He makes quick work of it all then, three generous thrusts of the wand disappearing almost entirely, save for his firm grip around the base. 
Three final dots. (...)
It marks the end of his charades, and the beginning of your incandescent cries.
You came undone at last, release ebbing as a flurry of sounds shape themselves into your call. “Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.”
“That’s it, ride it out for me. You worked so hard to earn it, after all.” His nose brushes just beneath your jaw, a tender kiss in consolation to soothe your high. 
He relaxes the toy out of your spent heat by the time your trembling thighs subsided, power shutting off and rolling onto the desk’s surface. A brief swirling of black and crimson manifests a small cloth into his hand, gently patting away the stickied outcome before it disperses in the same specks. His fingers rake along your sides, dragging the fabric of your bottoms into their proper place.
“Sylus.” You slump against his shoulder in recovery, bemoaning amidst the moment of calm clarity. “You are unbelievable. The damn answer was your name, of all things.” “And now you know how to call for me in code. Aren’t I generous?” The slight rumble of his chest supports the chuckle he lets out, deepened further when a curl of your fist smacks his shoulder in protest.
Endearment softens his tone as he draws circles into your back, taking the rolling punches. The other tangles his fingers against your temple, smoothing out the sides in thought. “I would say our lesson went well today.”
“One hell of a lesson,” you remark. Your breathing slows for a moment, listening to the drumming heart beneath your ear. His caresses were kind, lulling, attentive. A sense of peace, wholeheartedly yours and Sylus' alone.
Your gaze shifts towards the desk, when another piece of memory, well-decorated in its untouched trim, lies next to the toy. Forgotten, nearly—the gift. “By the way,” you murmur. “What’s in the box?” Whether it was out of laziness and unwilling to move from your warmth or pure convenience, Sylus waves his hand in summoning. Accepting the floating item midair, you were about to peel off the lid when he began to shift under you, interrupting your grand reveal.
“Hold on.”
With practiced ease, Sylus single-handedly cradles you to his chest and adeptly rises from the cushioned seat. No matter how many times he’s pulled it off in the past, it still leaves you breathless as if it were the first time.
You circle an arm around his neck, the other clutching the box with a huff, “I was about to do an unboxing, you know.” 
“I know,” he confirms, and presses another kiss to your temple. “But you’re getting sleepy. Open it after a good night’s rest.”
A swirl of Evol pushes the doors open, his footsteps echoing down the hall and towards his sanctuary. Your mind willed to protest his attempt of procrastination, yet only a yawn pushed past your lips and proved his point.
Curling into his embrace, you faintly mumble into his neck, “I’m wide awake.”
“And the sun shines at midnight,” Sylus deadpans, unimpressed at your performance. “Don’t fight it. If you’re tired, then sleep. I’ll make sure the gift will be there when you wake up.”  “You promise?”
“With my heart,” he says.
It was a simple response, yet the timbre of his words imbued security and affection all the same. As if he meant more than just ensuring your box was safe, swearing to something beyond your greater comprehension. 
One blink lasted longer than the one prior, sweeping the thought and yourself away into soundless sleep. Another time, perhaps.
You would find out the following day that he stayed true to his word. In the quiet hums of the morning, a slumbering giant clung to your side, his breathing calm and unknowing you had finally peeled open the mysterious box. 
A finely crafted jewel twinkled amidst padded velvet, a clasp secured on one end. Engravings inlaid in a series of familiar dots and dashes; you couldn't help but softly laugh, a finger tracing the pattern.
(-... . .-.. --- ...- . -..)
Beloved.
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daisynik7 · 10 months ago
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Make Me Sweat
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Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~2.5k
cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 
Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.
Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 
Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.
You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 
Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”
Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 
Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 
The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 
“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.
Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”
“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 
They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.
Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 
You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.
Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”
Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 
Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”
“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”
You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”
It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”
As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 
“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 
Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 
“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 
You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"
He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”
You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."
You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"
He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."
You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”
And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 
~~~
After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?
You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”
Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.
He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”
He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”
You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”
He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”
“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 
“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”
“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”
He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”
He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 
“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”
You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 
“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  
“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 
“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 
With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.
You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”
You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 
“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”
“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”
You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.
He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”
Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.
As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”
It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”
You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 
“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.
He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 
He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.
And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 
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sashi-ya · 6 months ago
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𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑫  「part 3」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader
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a/n: i wasn't expecting the amount of love I've been receiving for cuts of freedom and かんぱい!and because you all been so sweet and requested for a next part on this story, well... here it is! I hope you enjoy 🥺💖 tw: mdni! sex explicit scenes. shower sex. creampie. breeding mentioned. nipple play. soshiro being soshiro. wc: 1.3k // part1: cuts of freedom // part 2: かんぱい!// masterlist
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Praying for no Kaiju appearances while this night lasts, you sit with your legs crossed and your cheeks on fire. He ordered you to keep it all inside of you, and all you wanna do is to please the slanted eyed demon in front of you.
Oh, he seems unbothered. Nothing has changed from the time he stood up as everybody was having fun and the time he returned to the table.
“I want you to sit back at the table with my cum still inside you… would you be able to hold it in for me?” “Ye-yes, Hoshina fuku-taichou…”
Soshiro takes quick snaps with his burning irises from time to time, never watching you for longer than a couple of seconds… however, it’s enough for you to understand, to feel as if he was making sure you were still holding it with all your will or if his warm seed has started to ooze down your legs.
Truth is, you are squeezing your folds with all your might to obey the vice-captain. Guilty of enjoying such impure act, perhaps also guilty for wanting that release to reach deeper, to make you his, to impregnate you even though the consequences.
“(Name)-chan!” you listen your name being sung by his sweet playful voice.
Shaking your head, you turn back to reality as you were not only lost in the memory of him cumming inside you but also the lack of energy you are experiencing.
“Y-yes, vice-captain Hoshina? You chime, with your back straight but your legs still crossed to the side.
You can see a little smirk on his lips, the little white of one of his fangs protruding… hungry, still, for your flesh.
“You seem tired; after all you’ve been through you should go to rest” he comments, but in reality he is doing nothing but ordering you to leave. And you know, exactly, why that is.
Again. And again. And again. He wants you all day, all night. Desperate, as if, perhaps, you were part of his training routine. Like the oxygen he breathes, and the water he drinks.
You are ready to object, but he is right. Even if he’d told you so because of real concern, you are absolutely tired.
You stand up, rather quickly and nervously. Your eyes open big, bigger. You shouldn’t have. Immediately, your hand reaches for your leg, stopping there by pure instinct. Were for you not realizing on time to stop, you could have use your hand to keep his seed from coming out.
Soshiro’s eyes slightly open in the menacing way that leaves you both trembling and needy. He knows what just has happened. He knows your already wet panties, now have become wetter and by far a lot more stickier.
“Y-es, I’m going to sleep. Have a good night everybody!” you salute, feeling your throat absolutely dry.
Everybody waves you goodnight as you walk with clear discomfort on your pace, ready to reach the showers before going to sleep.
It doesn’t take much for you to reach the community bathroom. Despite the base being huge, everything is at reach within the perimeter the soldiers move. And so, leaving the clothes you are sure should be burnt instead of cleaned on the ground, you hop into one of the shower units.
Drop by drop, lukewarm water cleans you from sins… but for how long?
In silence, he is so stealth and fast. Scared, but not surprised. You already know how he feels, how he smells and how he tastes.
“I thought you were going to sleep” Soshiro murmurs, entering the shower with you. “I- I couldn’t go to sleep with… you know” you whisper back, scared of anyone else coming.
His eyelid twitches.
“Didn’t I order you to keep it all inside, officer (---)?” he scolds you, pulling you against him by your waist.
You look down, eyes fixing on the perfectly sculped pecs, on the pale skin that is so easily bruised, so tempted to bite and mark.
“But- I tho-“ you wanna say something, excuse yourself, but your lips become sealed with his.
Those kisses he gives, scratching a little bit whenever he opens up with his sharp fangs… the way his hand squeezes your ass, the feeling of his hardness getting pressed in between your belly and his.
“You thought what? That I would fill you up again before sleep?” he asks, with his lips against yours.
You gasp. Not only he is good when fucking you, he is also good with words.
“This brings me memories… that day I’d have fucked you until you dropped if it wasn’t because you were hurt” he continues, reaching your breasts, pinching your nipples in between his fingers.
Soshiro inhales your moaning, going harder the more you do.
“Don’t say that, I know you we- were worried- fuck- for me” you giggle while his fingers are now deeply inside your folds.
Soshiro’s cheeks turn blushed, not because of the hot water but because of those words. In fact, you were absolutely right; he almost lost his mind when he saw you being a victim of your anti kaiju suit. Soshiro acts tough, but he is indeed the most gentle of them all.
“Shut up…” he embarrassed exclaims while picking you up from your thighs, making your back hit the shower wall behind you.
Snaked your legs around his tiny waist, both bodies eliminate any space in between them. Is it love or lust? it is both perhaps.
Probably a couple of seconds are what it takes for him to bury himself inside of you; there is nothing he wants more than that. Even if sore, even if drained. You, as well, don’t mind if your body asks for a rest.
Jumping rhythmically to his thrusts, with water pooling on your eyelashes; with your fingers interlocking with deep purple tufts of hair. All of him, all of you.
Your shoulder experiences sharp little cuts, that’s both painful and delicious; like the jaws of those monsters you fight, Soshiro bites your flesh to muffle the moans he can’t control.
The closer to ecstasy you both go, the louder the whimpers. And the louder the whimpers, the dangerous it gets for you. What would they say if Hoshina fuku taichou and an officer gets caught in such impure, unproper acts?
None of that, however, represents a worry for him nor you. There is no space, nor time nor brain capable to think of the rest right now that Soshiro has attacked your nipples. He pulls, he bites and sucks. Your core feels like exploding, the way his dick reaches for the perfect spot as if he was made for you, the way he stimulates your breasts.
No air is left to be breath, the humid atmosphere of the shower makes it even harder for the two of you. And his eyes, electrifying and deep, burn holes into yours as he looks up to see the expression on your face.
“Beautiful” he murmurs, with his tongue playing with your right extra sensitive button.
You brush his wet hair back, unable to think, unable to resist the urge to burst.
“Soshi..ro, I-…” you need to express what you heart aches to reveal. As if he didn’t know, as if he didn’t feel the same.
“Sh.. I know, me too” he shuts you up, this time before plastering a deep kiss on your lips.
This time, he doesn’t order you what to do with his needy release. Instead, he definitely knows you will keep it inside once again. Is it that he wants to breed you?
Oh, what a dangerous game you both are playing… What a risky kink of yours, Soshiro Hoshina.
The sound none of you wanted to listen has just took over the whole squad: Emergency Kaiju alert. “bet it will feel weird to fight with all of that inside, huh?” he laughs, rather loudly. “AH…. SOSHIRO T-T”
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Next part?
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon waking up in the middle of the night horny and unable to get back to sleep. There's only one thing he wants to fix it.
The room is doused in darkness when Simon stirs awake, an ache situating itself in his chest that only grows the more he comes into consciousness. There is a flush in his cheeks, a heat in his face that he can sense now; the beginning signs of something visceral happening in his body that cannot be stopped. It's very late, too late to be awake, yet the longer he lays there the more his thoughts keep him from drifting back off. 
Sleep has caused you both to separate and find yourselves on opposite sides of the bed, but that gnawing feeling in his abdomen pushes him to close the distance between your bodies. Turning back over to face you, he moves through the cover to wrap his strong arms around your middle and pull himself up against you until his warm, bare chest rests as your back. United once again, his nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, broad chest molding perfectly into the curve of your spine. 
He hopes that maybe a little touch will sate him enough to fall back asleep, but it only makes the hunger worse. The blood begins to rush like liquid fire through his veins along with an overwhelming sense of anticipation: hot, invigorating energy coursing into his limbs that causes his mind to go hazy as he craves more contact. 
Movements are subtle at first, drawing you out of your dreams and gently back into being consciousness of the room as Simon stirs against your back, pressing himself tightly up to you until you mimic puzzle pieces with how your bodies fit together. You can feel the bulky contours of his chest through your tank top, the hair covering the surface lightly tickling the skin exposed along your shoulder blades between the straps as warm breath from his nose tingles across your shoulder and down your back.
Still drunk on sleep it takes you a minute to feel a stiffening, throbbing bulge pressing into your butt cheek through his boxers as the sensation of exploring hands finding their way underneath and inside your tank top numbs your already thoughtless mind. Roaming the curves of your hips and torso up towards your chest, delicate touches from calloused hands become more intentional by the second as soft, silky skin tantalizes his rough fingertips. 
Lips pepper themselves along your shoulder, quick, staccato kisses hot and sleepily sweeping over the curve of your neck as far as he can go. His lips leave burning trails along your flesh wherever they find themselves pressed until you tingle with a growing euphoric passion that urges you to seek more. Steamy breath hits your earlobe as that husky, gruff voice of his, more raspy and thickly accented from just waking up, breaks the silence.
"Can't sleep," he groans in a desperate whisper into your ear. “Need ya somethin’ fuckin’ fierce, sweet girl. Gotta come or I ain't gettin’ anymore rest tonight.”
Slowly he slides the arm on top of your hip palm side down over your abdomen and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties so that he can enter them and slip down the font. You are positioned on your side, your leg hiked up towards your chest so he can easily get between your legs. As fingers slip further down and into the space between your thighs, his breathing becomes more strained, hitching as he gets that first taste of the heat that waits for him. 
You adjust yourself in his grasp, pressing your butt up into him as his hand lingers against your inner thigh for only a moment. Your reciprocation only enhances his desire, positive nervous energy coursing through his limbs as he presses a burning palm up into the mound of your sex. Your body squirms at the sensitivity of that first contact as his hand applies pressure.
He inhales sharply through his teeth; he is losing it fast. “You’re so fuckin’ warm; so warm and soft. Fuck sweetheart, ya feel so goddamn good."
Gently, a finger splits you open to dive inside and up against that pleasure center as the top of your sex, drowsy whimpers and whines from your lips begin to fill his ears while he starts to draw soft circles over your clit. Careful, easy caresses he uses, nothing too hasty even with his gnawing desire eating away at him the more he gets a feel of all that ecstasy between your legs; soon enough he will be diving into all that goodness.
His mouth makes its way back to your shoulder, occasionally embracing the skin until your body trembles against his lips from the pleasure the more you melt into him. Words fail you as you can only focus on how good his fingers feel, relaxing your body with a few simple strokes while you still hover between sleep and awake. He feels like a goddamn dream, ecstasy in every single stroke to ease you into a tantalizing calm.
Faint, gratifying moans punctuate the silence of the night and send excited shivers down his spine. He wants to touch himself, but is satisfied enough to touch you while he lets the friction of his body grind his crotch into your side to take him further. “Goddamn, ya make me feel good. Do I make ya feel good, baby?” he asks breathlessly; he craves your music, but wants your desperate words most of all.  
Simon’s hand presses up harder into you, pushing you to answer him. You wriggle as you shake your head up and down. “Yes,” you mewl, a pronounced ache in your tone. 
You invite him to move in further as you spread your legs open wider so that he can access your core and with two fingers he pushes them inside. Instantly he is met by the slick wetness that envelopes his fingers as the walls of your pussy close around them to suck them in. 
“Such a pretty girl wrapped ‘round my fingers,” he purrs, as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, thrusting those longer digits in and out of you to the beat of his heart as you begin to rock on his hand. “Ya always look so good with any part of me buried in ya.”
His arm that is situated underneath you is still in your shirt and crawls to your chest to cup a breast against his palm, kneading all the beautifully plush tissue that fills it. Massaging all that fullness in his hand you lean into the feeling, but your tank top is a bit too restrictive, not allowing full ease of access, and so off it must go. Simon helps you wiggle out of it and discard it somewhere in the confines of the bed as his fingers stay resting inside of you until you can lay back down. The cool air outside of the covers sends a chill down your spine, though it doesn’t last as he is immediately pulling you back underneath and up against him again in that spooning position once more.
Your eyes flutter shut as you embrace the pleasure as your hazy mind is only full of thoughts of him. “You always do this to me, make me a mess,” you say breathlessly as he gets right back to work. 
In and out, in and out his fingers glide up into you as the dampness grows and leaks out of your entrance the longer he goes. Your body responds to him just as if it was designed to do so and soon you are a puddle in his capable hands. The more wet you get, the more his mind races; that urge that caused him to wake up reaching its peak. He needs to have you, needs to feel himself inside you, and with each pump of his fingers that need grows.
“Gettin’ fuckin’ desperate sweetheart, can't stop this ache till I have ya,” he groans at the edge of your ear before taking the tender flesh of your earlobe into his mouth to nibble at. “Do ya feel how fuckin’ hard I am? Goddammit, I need to be inside ya. Are ya ready for me?”
A muted hum of approval escapes your mouth; he’s gotten you close enough. “Please god, put in,” you agree between quick breaths. “I-I don’t wanna wait any longer.”
Simon is tugging down his boxers before you can even finish your sentence, his cock springing to attention now that it is free of its cage and pulsing wildly with his increasing heart rate. You go to roll over and face him, but he places his hand on your thigh to stop you from turning. He wants to fuck you like this, back to chest, spooning you in his arms. 
“That’s it, keep your leg up just like that. Wanna hold ya while I make the both of us feel fuckin’ amazin’."
Oh, you have no doubt about that. 
Keeping your hips forward and pulling them back he holds the base of his cock in his hand as he aligns it with your entrance, pressing the tip against the hole and adding his arousal to yours to coat you in even more lubrication. You can feel how hard it is, just waiting to pierce up into that tight, warm hole in your pussy. 
One arm wrapped around your middle holds you to him while his opposite hand grips into your ass cheek as he pushes against your top hip to keep you spread until he can carefully thrust inside. He only gets the tip in before he has to pause as the sudden restriction around his phallus has his body quivering and you gasping as he stretches you wide.
“So tight, so f-fuckin’ tight,” he bites back a moan as his voice wavers. “God, you’re fuckin’ heaven, luv.”  
A few deep breaths to calm himself and Simon thrusts again, this time pushing himself all the way inside right down to the base. Goddamn, the bellow of a moan that ripped through his chest vibrated throughout his entire body, his toes curling at all the overwhelming sensation of his cock smothering inside you, your walls clenching around him as your body desperately fights to accommodate being so full. 
“How the fuck am I not supposed to be obsessed with ya,” he whispers in a shudder, closing his eyes and bracing himself to become more calm before moving again. 
His thrusts are easy at first, but still forceful, shoving his thick, veiny cock as far into you as he can get. Hips rolling, back arching parallel to the mattress, he picks a steady rhythm and sticks to it while taking on the brunt of the work as it was his craving for your ecstasy that got you both here in the first place.
Every movement of his cock at this angle engages that sweet spot inside as wet, slapping sounds become more audible the more soaked you get, punctuated by his strained grunts with each time he slams into your pussy. The pressure feels divine, almost too good; mix that with the sinful beauty in your sounds and soon he’s being swept up in it all so that his mind goes numb. 
What starts as slow quickly picks up speed as more feral desires flood to the surface, leaving him at the mercy of his need. His pace is now intense, pounding into you with ferocity to make the bed shake beneath your bodies. The muscular arm that lays underneath you moves up to cradle your neck as it stretches across your chest to cup your breast. Again he kneads it more roughly this time, teasing the nipple with his fingertips as he rubs circles over it before taking it between his fingers to pinch at the tender flesh and make your body writhe with the extra stimulation.
Rotating your upper body at an angle, you now face him and immediately his lips are on yours, capturing them in sloppy, heated kisses that steal the oxygen straight from your lungs making you gulp in air in short bursts whenever your mouths break free, which isn’t for long. You are completely overtaken by his entire form as he steals kiss after aggressive kiss until your lips are raw and stinging.
Sweat gathers along your brow, tiny pinpricks of perspiration as he pushes you to your limit. At your back you can feel his abdominal muscles clenching tight with each plunge of his cock inside. You want more. Reaching down the front of your body, you find your clit and begin to rub circles around the nub. Simon catches the movement from the corner of his eye and breaks from your mouth.
“My job,” he struggles to speak as he rips your hand away from your pussy and replaces it with his own. 
Christ, you are on fire, grinding against his fingers as his cock fills your cunt from behind. “Yes, y-yes,” you choke out, eyes slamming shut as the multiple forms of stimulation drive you insane; every single brush of air upon your skin, each movement of his body against your own, each tug and grip and rub leaves only more pleasure in its wake.
“That’s it, sweet girl, ride me, ride me,” he grunts desperately. “Fuck, I’m almost there.” 
You were just as close, that gathering hot tension in your stomach ready to shoot off at any second. The slick begins to dribble down your thighs and onto the sheets, covering your skin in that warm, sticky liquid. Simon feels it too and the taste buds on his tongue light up as he thinks about all that sweetness coating the both of you. Even harder and faster his frenzied pace drills his cock into you relentlessly as those thoughts  fill his mind and make him ravenous for all parts of your beautiful body.
He’s about to blow. “Be a good girl and come for me-yeah?” he practically begs, wanting to feel himself come undone by your orgasm. “Let go, that’s it.”
All of a sudden you go silent as the string finally snaps and over the edge you fall with just a few more thrusts inside your dripping hole. Shit you are seeing stars as your toes curl and you cry out with a whimper that has him rocketing over the edge as your engorged walls clench around him.
“Fuck!” groans loud and forceful as his arms wrap around you tight, holding you to his chest so hard you can barely breathe. His hips continue to pound into you as he milks himself dry, grinding against your ass until he has nothing left to give. Body shuddering as all his urges drain from his mind he falls back onto the mattress to breathe through the high as you roll over to lay against him. 
It takes him a few minutes to calm down, but once his breathing is under control he leans down to press more delicate kisses to your lips this time. “Sorry I woke ya up,” he apologizes, though it hardly sounds like he is remorseful at all. “Seems I just can’t help myself when it comes to ya.”
You chuckle softly. “I’ve noticed.”
Simon smiles back at you, hand cupping your face so that he can rub his thumb gently over your flushed cheek. “Can ya blame me when I have such a sweet thing right at my fingertips? Who wouldn’t get a midnight craving?”
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captinamericashusband · 3 months ago
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Juno | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader (SMUT😉)
A/N: Wow another Steve Rogers fic. Anyways this one is smut. Also this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so it's going to be really bad. So enjoy!
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Title and plot (loosely) based off of Sabrina Carpenter's new song (stream the album btw or else):
Juno
Word count: 2.8k
Summary: I might let you make me Juno 😉
Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex
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“And then he said to me, ‘How about you change your dentures!’” A chorus of laughter erupted from around the table. Among the voices and chuckles was Y/N, sporting a fake laugh to hide the pain he was currently feeling on the inside. He so badly wanted to leave, thinking that laughing at whatever he was presented with would help pass the night. 
Y/N was an Avenger. He loved his job – no doubt. He loved being able to help people on a worldwide scale, and the overall idea of doing something that mattered. However, what Y/N didn’t realize was that the fine print of the Avenger’s contract included him forcefully being present at the annual U.S. Defence Symposium Convention, where diplomats and political leaders from around the globe gathered to discuss foreign affairs. While he never had to speak during these conventions, Y/N’s presence was required for Avengers PR reasons. Why it couldn’t be anyone else was a question he’d never find the answer to. Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone this year. Even better for him, he was with his lovely boyfriend.
Y/N glanced towards Steve at the other side of the circular table. Steve was already looking at him, wearing a similar bored expression. The two shared tired smiles. A positive that came with being Captain America’s boyfriend was intimate looks like these, shared across dinner tables, conference meetings, and other situations where they couldn’t be close. Looks and glances that made Y/N feel warm inside. No one else knew, even the team, of their clandestine relationship, afraid of the uproar that would come if it were to become public. The controversy that came with two of the United States’ defensive powerhouses dating – especially considering both were men – was something Y/N chose to think about rarely.
The senator continued his comedically-not-funny joke, and Y/N felt grey hairs growing. He knew he had to leave or he would’ve broken down in tears. As a guest speaker was about to be introduced, Y/N politely excused himself from the table and glanced towards Steve, his eyes already on him. He gave him a wink – a not-so-discrete signal they both came up with before arriving, loosely meaning, ‘I can’t handle this anymore and I need to get the fuck out of here – meet me in the bathroom.’ 
As he walked through the halls of the large venue, he marvelled at the grandness of the building where the convention was held. While he despised being there, he had to admit the building was architecturally and aesthetically pleasing, being more on the higher end of NYC establishments with its Art Deco-inspired assets. When Y/N made it to the bathroom, he checked beneath the stalls to see if anyone was present before letting out a loud groan. He knew he had to talk to Nick Fury later to discuss his supposedly mandatory attendance at the energy-draining convention. He couldn’t stand another second here. Leaning against the sink, he waited for Steve to arrive.
After about two minutes, the door to the washroom opened, and Y/N was met with Steve's presence. Steve raised his eyebrows, silently asking if anyone else was there, to which Y/N responded by shaking his head. “What did it, huh?” Steve asked, closing the door behind him.
“That geriatric senator, obviously – Senator Shortdick,” Y/N groaned. The senator’s name was actually in fact Dick – something Y/N’s immaturity found astoundingly hilarious. “His very long extended joke about…I don’t even know actually.” 
“He was talking about his son, Y/N,” Steve said, walking closer to the other man. “It was a nice story – very wholesome.” When Steve reached Y/N, he wrapped his arms around his waist before giving him a small peck. 
Y/N’s eyes met Steve’s, and they both gave each other reassuring smiles. They both desperately wanted to leave, but were aware they legally couldn’t.
“I don’t think I can handle this anymore, Steve,” Y/N’s voice whined, laying his head on Steve’s muscular chest, and caressing his sides. “I need something exciting.” Suddenly, as if he had an epiphany, Y/N conjured a devious idea to pass the time. Looking up at Steve, he gave him a half-lidded look, an action he did in jest whenever he wanted something from him. “We should fuck right now.” 
Steve only responded with a bewildered look, slowly shaking his head and reprimanding Y/N’s unsavoury suggestion. “We can’t, Y/N,” he said. “It’s too risky. Not to mention, distasteful – we’re in public.” Steve was the more rational person in their relationship, often taking Y/N’s outrageous ideas to heed.
“Why not, Stevie?” Y/N’s voice feigned softness and seductivity. “Isn’t it exciting,” he started, arms sliding up Steve’s clothed bicep. “The idea of getting caught here.” 
“Not really-.” Before Steve could continue, Y/N connected their lips. It started soft – short and sweet – before gradually getting more intense and feverish. Steve pushed the small of Y/N’s back closer, deepening the touch of their lips. Steve wanted Y/N badly, and Y/N was aware of that. He always knew that he had some type of figurative spell over Steve, causing him to be more acquiescent towards him than any other member of the team – even before they started dating. Steve was entirely bewitched by Y/N.
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The two eventually locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls, lips already connected and moving together hungrily. Both prayed no toilet would come beckoning some diplomat’s bladder amidst their carnal moment together. As they continued face-fucking each other, Y/N trailed his hands down towards Steve’s pantsuit. He palmed Steve’s already present bulge, rubbing it with the soles of his hand and causing a quiet whimper to leave Steve’s mouth. At hearing Steve’s sultry noise, Y/N felt his cock growing harder and heavier.
Y/N broke their lips’ ravenous movement and began unbuttoning Steve’s tux. “I saw you practically ogling me in there.” He bit one of Steve’s sensitive spots on his neck, eliciting a low groan from his throat. “It’s like you were begging to fuck me with your fuck-me eyes.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve panted in response. 
“Stay oblivious then, Stevie.” Y/N slipped Steve’s suit off, revealing his muscled buff chest. Not even a second later, Y/N’s mouth began trailing down Steve’s torso. He peppered kisses all over Steve’s chest, going further and further down until he was on his knees. Y/N came face-to-face with Steve’s growing bulge. He salivated, thinking about taking Steve’s entire cock in one go – the idea of hearing Steve’s whimpers made his dick even firmer.
Steve’s gaze was locked on Y/N. His eyes were half-closed, face flushed with both lust and pleasure. Y/N then unbuttoned Steve’s pants before taking them off which revealed Steve’s undergarments. Without sparing another moment, Y/N yanked Steve’s boxers off. Steve’s cock, upon being unclothed, sprung upwards and ached in the cold bathroom air. It begged for attention that Y/N’s mouth was more than willing to give. A slight droplet of precum was already at the slit which made Y/N even more aroused. Not wanting Steve to finish quickly (as if that is even a problem with his serum-induced stamina), Y/N started slow. He gave Steve’s shaft one long lick at the base, relishing the semi-salty taste. Y/N continued licking, throwing occasional glances towards Steve and how he was reacting. The quiet whimpering coming out of Steve’s mouth was evident he wanted – needed more. “Just please take it all, Y/N,” he quietly whined.
Y/N chuckled. He decided Steve had been good tonight and, sparing him from further punishment, took his entire cock in his mouth. A loud moan erupted from Steve to which he quickly clamped his hand over his mouth to silence. Y/N had to adjust to Steve’s size for a moment before doing anything further. Despite having done this several times, Y/N always thought Steve’s dick was maybe too big for him. This wasn’t that much of a problem for him as while he did struggle in throating it, it did make his ass feel good. And very sore afterwards. After a brief moment, Y/N began to slowly move his head up and down Steve’s cock. Steve struggled to quiet down his noises of pleasure as much as Y/N struggled trying not to choke. With each movement of Y/N’s head, Steve was hitting the back of his throat which sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. Steve, however, wanted much more.
To Y/N’s shock, Steve bundled his hands in his H/C locks and shoved him further down his throat. Y/N’s eyes went wide, gagging noises coming from his clogged mouth. Before Y/N could steady himself, Steve began ramming his throat at a rapid speed, his attempt to quiet himself vanishing as he prioritized quickly getting off with Y/N’s mouth. As Steve continued at his pace, he let out breathy moans that were amplified and reverbed by the bathroom’s walls. While Steve was in pure bliss at his cock being serviced, Y/N was not able to cope with the sudden change. His hands were placed on both of Steve’s thighs, trying to steady himself. Tears pricked near the corner of his eyes as his entire buccal cavity and throat continued being ransacked by Steve’s length. Each time Steve’s cock hit the rear of his throat, Steve shuddered and Y/N gagged loudly. As Steve began nearing his climax, he began to go even quicker than his initial speed, causing Y/N’s tears to freefall down his cheeks. With one loud grunt and a sloppy thrust, Steve came down Y/N’s throat. As Y/N felt the warm and salty fluid trail down his throat, Steve’s breaths became more shallow.
Steve leaned against the stall’s door, and a slick ‘pop’ sounded as he took his cock out of Y/N’s mouth. He was still recovering from his orgasm as Y/N quickly got up from his knees and roughly pushed his chest. “Dude!’ Y/N half-yelled. “What the fuck was that? You nearly killed me!”
Steve staggered slightly at Y/N’s hit. He looked at Y/N with a confused expression that quickly vanished upon seeing his tear-stained cheeks. An apologetic look promptly dawned. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine it’s just,” Y/N said while wiping his face, “you have to warn me first before you do that.” 
“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Steve did look remorseful. His face looked as if he had accidentally kicked a dog. “We should probably stop now.”
Y/N gave looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” He pointed sternly towards Steve, his voice coming out furious with a tinge of playfulness. “The only apology I’ll accept now is if you fuck me right here.”
“But, Y/N, I don’t have the…” Steve’s voice trailed off.
“The what, Steve?”
“You know,” Steve said, face slightly pink. “The wet thing and the rubber thing?”
An actual genuine look of bewilderment made its way onto Y/N’s face. “You mean condoms and lube?” Steve nodded shyly and Y/N began to laugh. “Steve, you just pounded my face in. Don’t give me any shit about you being too coy to say the words ‘condom’ and ‘lube’.” He then glanced down towards Steve’s penis which was already erect again. “Plus, your thing,” he continued, mocking Steve’s mannerisms, “still looks pretty wet from my spit. And as far as I remember, none of us have any diseases.” Y/N quickly looked towards Steve. “Right?” Steve nodded his head quickly, still too embarrassed to respond. Before Steve could do anything further, Y/N took his pants off alongside his underwear. “You’re already hard again, Steve. What are you gonna do 'bout it?”
Y/N’s teasing tone evoked Steve’s earlier confidence, leading to him hoisting Y/N around his waist, a quick yelp coming out of Y/N at the sudden movement. Before Y/N could say anything, Steve hastily prevented him by connecting their lips. Their tongues quickly tangled together, saliva combining and becoming indistinguishable from one another. “Steve, just put it in already, God.” Y/N’s voice came out breathy and unstable. Steve obeyed quicker than usual, seemingly eager to come a second time that night. Grabbing his cock with one hand and supporting Y/N with the other, he angled it towards Y/N's gaping hole. Without wasting any more time, Steve promptly thrust the entirety of his length inside of Y/N. A filthy ludicrous whine came from Y/N’s throat. His prostate was already being reached by Steve’s tip, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He was euphoric and as Steve started moving, his speed matching that of earlier, Y/N felt like he ascended. 
Steve was usually gentle whenever they had sex, but he decided to spare no mercy tonight. His thrusts were aggressive, leaving Y/N unable to handle the surplus of pleasure he was feeling. With each graze felt by his prostate, he was sent further into the heavenly bliss he felt. “H-have you seen that one movie,” Y/N said in between heavy pants. “Juno?” He knew it was a stupid question, both in the situation he asked it in, and how he knew Steve had barely seen anything made in the 21st century.
Steve continued thrusting into Y/N, the sound of their skin slapping reverberating around the room. “No – fuck,” Steve’s voice came out breathless. “What is that?” His face was contorting into different variations of lewd expressions, making Y/N’s hard-on even stiffer. It was rare to see the Captain America in such a vulnerable state, and Y/N savoured the fact he was the only person who was able to see him like this. 
The pleasure Y/N felt inside of him was indescribable. Their fucking had never reached this level of catharsis. “Nothing – it doesn’t matter. Just keep going, Steve…please…” Y/N saw the little dribble of precum dripping from his cock. He was close. And Y/N knew Steve was too from how his pounds started becoming sloppier, and how his hands gripped his ass tighter. Their lips found each other again, and their tongues connected. Steve swallowed all of Y/N’s whimpers, biting his lower lip to prevent any would-be passersby from hearing his erotic gasps for air. 
“I’m gonna come, Y/N,” Steve breathlessly spoke. His pacing started to decline, and his entire body trembled. 
As Steve was about to endure another orgasm, Y/N saw him about to pull out. Suddenly, he protested with a hoarse sigh, “No, Steve, just finish inside me – it’s fine.” Steve nodded his head silently, not needing to be told twice. Their pants continued syncing together as Steve rode out his climax. Another load of his hot white cream exited him and filled Y/N to the brim. Shortly after Steve finished, Y/N felt his climax coming in. Steve continued floppily thrusting to aid in his release, soon releasing in thick ribbons that covered his and Steve’s chests. 
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Steve gently collapsed both of their bodies on the ground. The pair were in a state of exhausted pleasure, their breaths still deep and frequent. It stayed this way for a few minutes – Steve and Y/N basking in the decline of their orgasms in a comfortable silence. Y/N glanced down towards his ass, a tad icked out by Steve’s jizz pouring out of him. “It’s kind of gross isn’t it,” he said to Steve. 
Steve was broken out of his euphoric trance upon hearing Y/N’s voice. “What is?” He said, still catching his breath.
“Look,” Y/N signalled to his downward area. “It looks really strange.” The pair’s eyes met and they both erupted in boisterous laughter. 
As they started quieting down from what they considered the funniest thing of that night, Steve suddenly remembered what Y/N asked earlier. “Hey, what was it with that movie you asked me about earlier.”
“Juno?” Y/N responded.
“Yeah, that one.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N said, getting uncharacteristically shy. “I just thought…it’d be nice if we have kids one day.” Y/N then realized what he said and began doubling down. “I mean, that is if you want any with me at all – children I mean. A family.”
Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled at Y/N, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Y/N responded by giving him a meek smile. They both were met with another silence, their love-laced gazes filling each other with a comforting warmth. 
“How are we gonna get out of here, Steve?” Y/N’s voice came out softly, too absorbed in the moment to genuinely care about where they were.
“Now that is the predicament, isn’t it?” Steve said, reciprocating Y/N’s blissful voice.
Fortunately, it was evident that luck was on their side that night as no one had entered the bathroom at any point in their love-making.
FIN
A/N: My Google searches are legit “Synonyms for ‘cock’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms for ‘moaning’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms of ‘cum’ in fanfiction”, and “How to write smut properly.” Anyways, hope you enjoyed whatever that mess was!
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fandomscombine · 6 months ago
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New Kid
Spencer Reid x Reader
BG: It’s your first day at the BAU and meeting the team. The team is surprised with how you’re hitting it off with a certain Doctor but what they don’t know is that a bigger surprise is yet to come.  
A/N: My first Criminal Minds/Spencer Reid Fic! It’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year now and finally tied an ending together. (Are we over a 2-year writing slump? We’ll see!)
Honestly it’s pure season 1/season 2 team fluff crack and chaoticness! Wanted to capture the early seasons team dynamics. Hope you all enjoy!
Fun fact, it’s all the Spencer Reid x Reader fics that kept popping in my recommendations that I started reading and falling in love with Reid prior to starting the show!
WC: 1307
>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<
>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<
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This is it. Your first day as a Special Agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Growing up reading detective stories and solving mysteries were your favorite pastimes. 
You’re grateful for having a family environment that was supportive of your thirst for knowledge and endless curiosity.
The receptionist has informed you that the team is waiting for you upstairs, ready to give your orientation tour.
"Thanks." You replied, half mildly picking at your nails. In just an elevator ride away, you'd be in the midst of the smartest profilers alive. And nothing goes unnoticed – that you know very well.
A vibration in your pocket breaks your thoughts. A smile slips to your face. 
"Stop picking at your fingers." The voice on the other line says.
"Hello to you dad." You can't help but roll your eyes. "I wasn't even–" You look down at your left hand. Shit. "How'd you even know?" 
"I just do, I watched you grow up for 25 years." 
"Yea yea."
"Hey kid, sorry I couldn’t be there—“
“You’ve got a whole auditorium full of nerds dying to hear your lectures, I understand.” The door in front of you opens and you step inside.
“Thanks kid. I’ll make it up to you. How does an extra large, extra saucy lasagne sound?”
“Oooh yes, don’t forget with extra cheese!” The monitors indicate: 3/F, 4/F, 5/F.  “By the way, you’ve told them right?” As you step out, you spot a group of agents handled near the department entrance. “Anyway I’ll see you later, gotta go. Bye.” Quickly cutting the line off, not wanting to seem unprofessional, chatting on the phone.
“Special Agent y/m/n?” Said the brunette.
You opted to be referred to by your first and Mother’s maiden name, when you first started out. Wanting to stand on your own merits and making a name for yourself.
“That’s me.” 
“Special Agent Greenaway, this is Agent Jareau, and Agent Garcia.” You shake hands with the two agents “Call me JJ” 
But you are quickly engulfed into a hug by the third, which you have to admit took you by surprise.  “You can call me Penelope.-- Opps sorry, just excited to have another female member in the team!” You give her a warm smile, patting her shoulder, “No worries, Penelope. Just caught me off-guard.”
“Come on, let’s meet the rest of the team.” JJ says, leading you all into the bullpen.
“So this would be your desk right here” points Agent Greenaway. “Which is right across from Agent Morgan–”
“Derek, Derek Morgan m’ beautiful lady.” cuts in the man. 
You can’t help but blush from the compliment. “You always flirt with the new kid, huh Derek?” You challenge, playing off his energy. 
“Ignore him,” 
“Cmon’ Elle. It’s all good fun!”
Elle directs you to a hunched figure behind Derek.
“This is our resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid.”  She points to Reid, who is preoccupied with a lego model to have noticed the group. 
“Dr. Reid! I’ve heard so much about you!” Reaching out your hand, to grab his attention. His head instantly shoots up, eager to know the culprit who distracted him from finishing this model of the Delorean and give them a piece of his mind.
“Hey! I was just finishing -.” His voice trails off upon realizing that A. it wasn’t one of his teammates making fun of his legos but instead a face he doesn’t recognize and B. feeling bad on being the reason why your bright smile turned into a frown. “Oh Sorry! Sorry Ms–”
“y/m/n” Your father had shared stories about the team, especially Spencer, his protege. He was the person you were most excited to meet, though with this first interaction - you were discouraged with how it went. Perhaps you shouldn’t have run multiple scenarios on how you’d wow the team with such high standards. 
Dropping your arm, eager to quickly change the subject, you turn to Elle. “ So what cases do we –”
“y/m/n? As in y/f/n y/m/n!?” Spencer exclaims, his eyes wide. Big hand gestures dancing through the air as he raved.  “ The author of ‘The Correlation Between The Probability of Sudden Adult Anger Outburst and Childhood Familial Upbringing.’ ?
You’d had your thesis quoted back to you by professors and peers, but never with such childlike wonder written all-over Spencer’s face, making you blush. “Yes! But how -”
“I’ve read so much about you! Your work, I mean.” Spencer isn’t normally affected by how he’s perceived by others. Spitting out facts in the speed of light is synonymous to his identity and it’s nothing he’s ashamed of. But it's rare to have someone beautiful and intelligent be into the same niche interests that he has. Spencer only has one shot on not coming on as weird and it’s not going well, so he elaborates.  “I got it from Gideon’s pile. I picked it up on a whim but your writing is spectacular! I read through it in 12 mins!”
“Wait, you read through my 250 page dissertation in under 12 mins?” You questioned, looking around the team to check if you’ve misheard. 
“Affirmative. It would have been faster, but I was jotting down some notes.”
“Notes, huh?” Crossing your arms, the paper had gone through multiple reviews from your professors before submission. It should be damn near perfect. “Alright, Doctor Reid. I’m interested, how about you show me your notes over coffee?”
“Actually…” Spencer raised his finger, interjecting. “It might take a bit longer than an hour and I would love to dig into your brain. Perhaps we could go over it at dinner?”
“Name the time and place.” You grabbed the nearest post-it and quickly wrote down your phone number. “Now will you excuse me, I believe I’m late for my introductory meeting with Agent Hotchner.” 
With that you broke away from the make-shift team circle and headed you to Hotch’s office, leaving the team still frozen in their spot.
Derek was the first to speak. “Did pretty boy just ask out the new girl without stuttering and succeed?”
“Good, so everyone else witnessed that too right?” Added Penelope. 
JJ nodded in agreement, too stunned to speak as if it would break the illusion.
“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked. “I simply asked if we could compare notes!”
“No. Technically she initiated it.” Elle clarified.
Shaking his head, Spencer eyes trailed to the now closed Hotch’s door. 
“Yea, to which you effortlessly turned from coffee date to a dinner date!” Exclaimed Derek, earning Spencer a pat on the back. “The boy’s got game!”
“It’s not a date! At least I don’t think it is - I bet she doesn’t see me that way. Nobody does.” Spencer sighs, sulking back down to his seat. Reality catching up to him by the second, erasing any hope that a woman like you would have any romantic interest in a nerd like him. 
“Trust me kid.” Come a voice, effectively cutting Reid’s thoughts. Gideon nonchalantly walks up to the empty desk marked “Agent y/n y/m/n”, moves the box of your belongings to make space for  what seems to be a plastic bag of takeaway. “You're her type.” 
“What?” Spencer asks, more confused than ever. The looks across the team’s face reflect his own reaction. “And how would you know that?” 
“With all due respect, sir.” Added JJ, careful not to overstep. “You haven’t seen y/n and you got all that from her untouched desk?”
“Yea Gideon, we know you’re good but you can’t be that good!”
Gideon brushed off Derek’s brassiness and smirked. Proceeding to head up to his office, finally addressing the group only halfway up the steps. “I know, cause she's my daughter.”
“WHAT?!” exclaimed the BAU team, who once again found themselves frozen by a member of the Gideon family.
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revelboo · 18 days ago
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Rev's been inactive for 15 whole minutes, everyone panic! Call the honor guard! The navy! Superman even!
/LH /J
Pffft
I’m just hiding out over here writing TF stuff because the Twitter writing community seems to be actively on fire right now and I don’t have the energy to deal with it
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Broken Arrow Pt 10
TFP Megatron x Reader
• Curling an arm around you when you go limp against him, it’s almost impossible to let go of your wrist and shatter that connection tethering him to you, but he finally manages to let go, feels your fingers slide through his spark, the pull as he loses contact urging him to curl himself tighter around you. Instead closing the plating protecting his spark, his servos unsteady as he stares down at you where you’re slumped against him, cheek against his shoulder. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, though he’s not entirely sure what he was thinking. Only that he’d wanted to feel someone touch him, he’d wanted to feel warm fingers stroking over his spark, holding and seeing him. All of him.
• Gripping your chin in his claws, he tips your head back. Your eyes are still closed and your pulse is slow when he strokes along the line of your throat, shifting your leash. Thinking about how you’d felt tangled in him, feeling you still, the connection new and fragile. Frightening. It’s not too late to end it, servos curling loosely about your throat even while knowing he won’t. He can’t when you’re all he really has that’s real, not plotting against him or scheming. That reminds him that he hadn’t always been the ruthless gladiator that had been born in that pit from pain and spilled energon. Staring up at the autocracy gambling on lives because everyone else had mattered so very little to them. Hating them and learning to be so much worse than they were just to survive. To throw them down.
• There’s a warmth coiled inside you, the thrum of something achingly familiar under your cheek and an arm curled around you, servos in your hair. That feeling is safety and home. Eyes opening at the soft clicking of a claw sliding back and forth over the length of your leash in Megatron’s fist, you try to figure out why you feel so exhausted. And then remember his servos gripping your wrist too hard, forcing you into contact with his spark, optics flickering that fitful purple from that crap he keeps taking. Everything after that kind of gets confusing as you flex your fingers and he looks down at you. Aware that he’s cradling you in his lap like a lover and of that scowl he’s aiming down at you. “Get off,” you mutter, trying to push against his chest and almost pitching backwards when he lets you. Scrambling out of his lap on unsteady feet, because it’s not just exhaustion, you feel off balance. “You jerk.” Because whatever’s wrong must be his fault. “What did you do?”
• Standing slowly to tower over you, he catches your upper arm when your legs almost fold under you and you slump against him. It’s not a full bond, not exactly. He can feel it in the way his spark is aching, wanting to reconnect. Needing more than a one sided bond, because he can feel the jarring wrongness of it. Knows that a spark bond is meant to unite, to twine two halves together. Meant to be between two willing sparks, not this mess he’s made. Your little hands are pushing at him again, trying to break away and he wonders what it feels like to you. Does it hurt you like it hurts him, a shard wedged in his spark?
• “Stop fighting me, pet.” That command isn’t his usual demanding tone or his teasing, it’s almost tired and very bitter as his arms press you closer despite your attempts to get away. Because the warmth and feel of him against you is suddenly too much, you’re overwhelmed with him. Needing him to back off, because you can’t think beyond the urge to be closer. Claws on your chin, forcing your head up to meet his optics again. Demanding your attention as he stares down at you, optics narrowing. “Primus.”
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astrolovecosmos · 9 months ago
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The 9th House and In-laws
The 9th House is associated with your in-laws. This house can describe your in-laws' personalities, some of the family dynamic, and your overall relationship with them. *Due to the 10th House's association with authority and parents' influence some may look at this House to reference in-laws as well.
Aries: Marrying into a highly competitive family, maybe a sports family, or maybe a military family. Passion, leadership, confidence, and self-focus may somehow be themes in the dynamics or personalities of in-laws. Aries is associated with separation and independence; this could indicate a more distant relationship to in-laws or even in a more literal sense with the in-laws being separated. Anger and arguments may be commonly caused by in-laws. In-laws could also be highly enthusiastic and encourage fun, assertion, risk, and being enterprising in your marriage or as a family unit.
Taurus: Marrying into a predictable, routine, unmoving or deeply rooted, maybe controlling family. In-laws may be dependable, huge foodies or materialistic, potentially may spoil their family, could be an artistic family, or a down-to-earth one. With Taurus's association with security this may mean they give their daughter/son in-law plenty of reassurance and stability OR they could see the new daughter/son as a threat as well. May be slow to form a relationship with. The in-laws will strive for peace and contentment in their family.
Gemini: Marrying into a family that highly values intellect and has high energy. Some in-laws could be flexible and others unstable. A highly communicative and social family. In-laws may be open-minded, easygoing, but potentially opinionated, may love debate or wild discussions, could seem detached as well. May judge their daughter/son in-law by their field of study, social standing, and how they hold themselves in conversations. Could have a lot to share and teach with their family. Some in-laws may be highly supportive and others two-faced, gossipers, and tricky.
Cancer: Marrying into a family that may have a great focus on family loyalty and tradition. In-laws could be very protective over their children and may not always be welcoming to spouses. Some could also be on the other end of the spectrum - highly understanding and kind to a son/daughter in-law. An in-law could be highly intuitive and frequently shares their wisdom. This family can have attachment issues. In-laws could be manipulative and possessive. This can also be a family one may easily be able to get close to, in-laws who embrace a spouse as one of their own. May be the type to show favoritism towards a daughter/son in-law.
Leo: Marrying into a proud family that focuses on honor, duty, and success. Can be warm, affectionate, and very generous in-laws. These in-laws may go out of their way to impress a spouse. But they can also be overbearing and arrogant behind their shinning gold. One in-law could stand out by playing the role of queen/king of the family. Can also be a lively, playful, and entertaining family. The married couple may feel as if they have to put on a performance when around the in-laws. Some may want to rebel. Some may fit in with the passionate and driven parent(s).
Virgo: Marrying into a hard-working, practical, intellectual, and potentially critical family. These in-laws may have high standards for their son/daughter in-law. May be very helpful and supportive in-laws who take on extra tasks, chores, and responsibilities for the couple. Could be rigid, potentially often complainers, and judgmental. These in-laws may try to contribute to the married couple's finances or health often in some way. May not be the best at sharing emotions and reassurance. In-laws appreciate a cooperative daughter/son in-law and may have a family dynamic that is all about striking a balance between teamwork, everyone contributing, and self-reliance.
Libra: Marrying into a family that has a very harmonious dynamic OR may seem like they do at first. There is pressure in the family one is marrying into to keep the peace. Maybe this family brushes issues under the rug, doesn't get too deep or passionate in their dynamics, or constantly pushes the importance of tact, manners, and grace. They could be kind, easygoing, and supportive in-laws but also potentially vain, shallow, and easily jealous. The individual with this placement may try hard to please their in-laws or the family they are marrying into. It is important for them to set healthy and realistic boundaries, and some may need to learn to stand up to their in-laws with their spouse. This can also indicate in-laws who have good judgment, admire their child's relationship, and help the couple with networking or even originally introduced the married couple to each other!
Scorpio: Marrying into an intense and passionate family. Potentially a highly competitive and combative family. This family may have many secrets, or many things might not be shared and discovered until long after the wedding and being part of the other family. Family loyalty may be important along with power and control dynamics. These in-laws could be overprotective, manipulative, and vindictive. But they could also be compassionate, motivating, intuitive, and filled with useful insight. Their protective nature could encompass their daughter/son in-law. But these in-laws may likely struggle with letting go of control and involvement. This placement can also indicate a deep, empowering, or transformative relationship with one's in-laws.
Sagittarius: Marrying into a gregarious, fun-loving, zealous, and active family. In-laws may give their adult child and their spouse a lot of space and freedom. Could also be unreliable, selfish, irresponsible, and dishonest in-laws. An in-law could also be boastful and dogmatic. They may not accept a son/daughter in-law unless they agree with their opinions or beliefs fully. In-laws could also be the type who refuse to acknowledge the marriage or relationship status, treating the son/daughter in-law always like a "stranger". Because Sagittarius is associated with luck, maybe a spouse has hit the jackpot and their in-laws could be very giving, open-minded, and friendly. In-laws may live far away or be part of a very different culture than the daughter/son in-law. Whether there is a good or bad relationship, the family dynamic is likely flexible, fast paced in some way, or maybe even exciting or wild.
Capricorn: Marrying into a strict, traditional, ambitious, practical, or potentially a well-known family. Reputation and work ethic may be important to the in-laws. These in-laws can also be reliable, patient, chill, and they watch out for their children, including the son/daughter in-law. These in-laws could be highly judgmental, negative, and rigid. Some may want to rebel against their in-laws or question their authority and judgment. Trust issues can be a big deal in the dynamic somehow. The in-laws could be workaholics or highly materialistic or even greedy and unexpectedly manipulative. Capricorn is associated with integrity, these in-laws may approach their married children with full trust and respect, at least at first. These in-laws could also help their son/daughter in-law with getting a job or career.
Aquarius: Marrying into an unconventional family or family dynamic. There are many ways the in-laws could be unique depending on your society. Maybe there are untraditional roles, large age differences, they could have a free-spirited lifestyle, are politicians, the list could go on. These in-laws could be separated, divorced, or not married at all. The in-laws could also be highly detached or estranged from the couple. These in-laws can also be conversationalist, highly value intellect, love a good debate, embrace quirks, and be open-minded or very friendly. There can also be a hypocritical, opinionated, or controlling nature. These in-laws could also be highly unpredictable and unreliable. In healthy and idealistic dynamics they can make a daughter/son in-law feel accepted, be a great teacher, and inspire the couple or individual.
Pisces: Marrying into a sensitive, emotional, maybe artistic, or maybe a touchy-feely family. This family and/or the in-laws may be easy to get along with at first, making a daughter/son in-law feel at home or at ease. But these in-laws can also be manipulative, elusive, and volatile. There can be an unstable and always changing feel to the family dynamics. An in-law or both parents may be highly intuitive and receptive to the married couple's relationship. A son/daughter in-law may conform to their in-laws beliefs and wishes or be highly sensitive to their wants OR the in-laws themselves may be quick to try to please or pacify a son/daughter in-law. Boundaries can easily be crossed in the dynamic. There can be a great opportunity for closeness, but this can come with plenty of pros and cons. Spiritual or religious beliefs may be a hot topic somehow. With Pisces strong association to healing, an in-law could become the mom this individual always wanted, or the daughter/son in-law could be the daughter/son the in-law always wanted. Or the individual may act as the family's therapist.
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marshallsgirl · 9 months ago
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Marshall revealing his new song to Y/N
Pairing: Eminem x Fem¡Reader
Warnings: 🔞 MATURE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Recommended song: Remind Me - Eminem, In Too Deep - Eminem
Author's note: Hey, guys! I was so bored and I wrote this. I may delete it later or idk. Hope you all enjoy it. I love you guys so much! Sending all of you a warm hug🫂🤍
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"I have a surprise for you" Marshall said to me as he enter the living room. Inmediatly I turn off the tv and give all my attention to him. "Guess what" he said.
"What?"
"The song is complete!"
"Whoa baby!"
Here's the thing. He told me he was writting a song about us, but that's it. He didn't talk about ever again. Even if I asked him about it he had changed the topic. So, I was very nervous about it. Because this has happened before. It was with the Revival album. That one song called Remind Me. That one was for me. I still remember when he show me that song.
" did you...That's my fav rock&roll song!" I said when I heared the beat.
"Yeah, that's the song you kept singin' and singin' while you're cooking" he said wanted to laugh at me.
I loved that song. Perfect combination but it was crazy. I mean...he did that for me? He united rock&roll and rap that was so crazy.
"Damn, that's crazy babe" I said.
"See y/n, u make me do things I normally wouldn't do"
"Awww, I love it and I love you baby!"
So, this time I was really nervous because I've been singin' a lot and very different genres. And Marshall...Well, he is so crazy. I didn't know what to expect.
"Are we going to the studio?" I asked him ready to go change if needed.
"No, let's just get in the car". So, we got inside his car. "Are u okay?" suddenly he asked me.
"Yeah, I'm good! I need to hear your song!"
I got too excited and I get very excited when I'm nervous I don't know why, but It's like I got a lot of energy all of the sudden. Anyways, so he says:
"Okay, okay but you need to know that I just got the final mix and I haven't heard it. I mean I know the entire song but I didn't hear the final mix yet" he explained.
"Omg..."
"What?"
"Wait, let me just make myself comfortable" I said while adjustin' my seat a little bit.
At this point he doesn't even hide that he's laughing at me.
"Ready?"
"Yeah, ready"
"Wait, look at me" he ordered and I obey. "I love you"
"Okay, now play the song!"
"Yo, say it back!" he replied.
"I love you, babe!"
And so the music started and he is lip singin': "This could never work, " is what we said at first. But whatever this is, it's working. But we're in two different worlds and (yeah) I'm not your husband (nah), you ain't my girlfriend. All I know is that (what?) When I'm with you, I'm a different person, yeah. And I ain't never met a chick as perfect. Girl, you're a ten, so here I am (yeah)
I literely screamed and Marshall had to stop the music.
"No, keep it goin'!" I argue.
He laughed and let the music continue: ...Can't tell if I'm cheating on her with you or cheating on you with her. But really, nobody's at fault, can't help who you love. Hope they don't ever hear us talk
'Cause we both are getting sloppy. Probably subconsciously part of me's hoping we get caught 'cause I'm not happy here (nah)
With her. Rather have you (yeah) Rather have me too. 'Cause you're not happy there (you're not happy there) With him. Rather have me (I know, but) We just in too deep (I'm in way too deep)
Marshall started singin' it out loud and I was vibin' with it the whole time. It was a good damn song. Honestly, I loved it. It truly was about us, about the start of our relationship, but there were a few things that weren't true like me havin' a wedding ring. It should say: I got a wedding ring. So it's her instead of you.
"That's it. What do u think?" he said not being able to stop smilin'
"Please, play the song one more time"
And he started to laugh again.
"Marshall!"
"Are for real? Did you loved it?" he was surprised.
"Yes, I love it!"
"Y/n..." he laughs again.
"Marshall! You're being so freakin' annoying. Play the song one more time!"
"Yo, you are just sayin that. You didn't loved it!"
"What? I do love it! Marshall!"
"Okay, okay"
He played the song again.
"I'm gonna cry" I said.
"Yo, you're hillarious!"
"That song is good as hell!"
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harrytheehottie · 2 months ago
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JUNO
WORD COUNT: 2K MASTERLIST this is a part of the short & sweet fic challenge @harry-on-broadway let me know what you think 💘 hope you enjoy!
The sun was casting a warm golden glow through the windows of your living room as you sat on the couch. Harry was in the kitchen making your nightly tea as you rested on the sofa. It was a peaceful evening, like many that you have shared over the last three years. This familiar feeling and routine was something you cherished especially with the hectic schedule Harry’s life could bring.
A year ago, he finished his two year long world tour. It was an incredible feat and one that was an emotional roller coaster since it began. He had his entire life planned from the minute we all went into lockdown to the final show in Italy and these last seven months were spent just making up for lost time. He was always home when you came back from work, he was the one that was traveling on your schedule and your terms. It was a great change from how your relationship was before. You didn’t have to anticipate the day that he was going to go away for weeks at a time because you were a part of that decision making now and it only made the two of you stronger as a unit. 
You glanced at the framed photos on the mantel: you and Harry in various stages over the last three years--goofing around backstage at Coachella, the night he turned his green room in MSG into a home theater and begged security to let you two spend the night after you just got off a six hour flight to surprise him for his last show. It was the simple moments that were your favorite, the picture of you walking through the Heath, a cup of coffee and pastries in tow for your favorite weekend tradition of a Saturday morning picnic. 
This was the first year that you were able to think about the future just as it pertained to you and Harry. You didn’t have to think about how your life decisions factored into anyone else's. You always knew you wanted to have a family. He was always going above and beyond for the children in his life not just by spoiling them with gifts but checking up on them and making sure they knew that he was always there. And this became more apparent when he became an Uncle. He was always the first to offer up babysitting so his sister and her partner could enjoy some quality time, even making the trek up to Cheshire to watch his cousin's children if they asked.
So, when Harry walked back into the living room with a cup of tea for you and snacks for himself you sort of blurted it out before you had the chance to second guess the right time for this conversation. 
“I’m ready to have a baby.”
Harry’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard, “What?” almost second guessing what you just said. 
You take a deep breath, your heart racing realizing that you are not going to be able to take those words back. “I’ve just been thinking, we have talked about the future a lot as this far-fetched idea but we’re here now and…” you paused looking up at him, his expression shifting from the initial shock, he leaned closer, taking your hands in his. You knew how Harry worked and the subtle shift in energy was all you needed to continue, “I know not to think, I know I’m ready… for that next step.” 
A moment of silence stretched between you as he processed your words “You really mean that?”
“More than anything,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “I can’t imagine going through that journey with anyone else. And it just feels good right now, us, we are so good right now and there is just no reason to wait.” 
Harry’s expression softened, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “It’s a big step, probably one of the biggest steps we will ever take together.” 
“Will we ever truly be ready?” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Life is unpredictable, but I want this with you.I want to build a family together.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the window. “I’ve thought about it too,” he finally said, turning back to you. “I want that. I’ve always wanted it honestly. I remember the first time you met Ruby and the way she was instantly drawn to you. S’probably when the thought first crossed my mind.”
You remembered that day. You were so incredibly nervous to meet Harry’s close group of friends. It was Ruby -- his God daughter’s 4th birthday. You had only been dating for around three months at that point. You remember stressing about what to buy her as a gift and even though Harry promised no one would think twice if you showed up empty handed. You still scoured the internet looking up every list of ‘best gifts for a 4 year old girl’ and settled on a Peppa Pig Camper Playset with all the characters. And to say it was a hit was an understatement. The two of you still joke about how as soon as Ruby opened her present she demanded that you stay after to set up the toy and play with her. 
Harry remembers watching the way you were interacting with Ruby and how her father, Ben made a comment about how he had never seen Harry so fixated on someone before like he had you. It was still early days but he always went back to that moment and how it led you to where you are now. 
“So, are we ready to do this?” You asked with a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. 
“You know, if we really want to be serious about this. We’re going to have to start practicing.” Harry teased pulling you closer to him. The warmth of his body against yours as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative like he was emphasizing the importance of the moment you just shared.  
You pulled away first, a smirk on your face, “Hmm.. practice? I’m feeling a little tired right now,” You teased with a wide yawn stretching your arms over your head. The playful banter that you know drives him crazy. Harry moves his hands to cup your face, his thumb glazing over your lips again, “C’mere” he whispers. He begins kissing down your neck, leaving small kisses along his path from his lips. You move your hands through his hair, as he scoots back on the couch, pushing your shirt up in the process and you help to take it off.
The kisses continue. He’s moving down your neck, between your cleavage and he stops right at the top of your stomach. His hands that were holding yours moved to touch your belly — picturing what was going to happen next. The commitment to a family and how you would be the home for his future baby. You were almost tearing up at the sight of him and just how careful he was already, always putting your needs first and making you his priority. 
“You’re gonna have to use your words, baby,” You whisper as Harry moves his hands to the waist of your pants. You are already ready for him and he knew it just by how much you were wiggling under him trying to get him to move faster.
“I want you,” he says in a low breathy tone before helping you get your pants off. You move your weight onto your forearms to get a good view of him. You watch as Harry slides your underwear to the side, a rush of pleasure washing over the both of you. “So wet for me…” leaving his lips as he moves his fingers up and down your slit. The juxtaposition of the sexyness and tenderness of the moment right as he slid one and quickly two digits in pushing his fingers in and out. The pleasure washing over your body, the whimper of ‘Oh yes’ and ‘Baby’ a moan escaping your lips as you rode out your first orgasm. 
His lips are immediately back on yours as you slide your hand into his pants pushing his joggers off trying to keep every part of your body touching. After being in a relationship for three years you still periodically used contraceptives especially when you are in the thick of it with his work never wanting anything to come in the way of jeopardizing this unspoken tension between the two of you. And tonight, was going to be and feel different, no more trying to locate the last spot you left condoms going on stretches of time of just trying the process. This was intentional and you felt the mutual giddyness as you slid your hand down his length pumping him once, twice, three times before Harry is ready for you. 
“M’not gonna last very long,” he says before aligning your hips before pushing in deep. Taking a couple of deep breaths as you move your hips along with Harry as you adjust to the familiar feeling of him inside you. Harry leans his head toward you leaving kisses all over him, your nails dragging up and down his back. 
“Tell me it feels good,” You whispered the sounds of your mutual pleasure echoing in the room. 
“Feels so fuckin’ good, always s’fuckin good” Harry was moving faste and harder meeting your gaze right before letting himself go inside you. His body collapsing on top of you as both tried to catch your breath from the pleasure. You had your arms wrapped around his body wanting to keep the warmth of his body on you forever. 
You cleaned yourselves up and spent the rest of the night thinking about your future and how you were going to take that next step forward. Harry was your safe space and you were his. You both knew that this next step forward would be unlike anything you’ve done before but you were both ready, as a team to make this next step. 
And one day, you will be in this same living room waiting for Harry to finish making a bottle for your future baby - and boy, could you not wait. 
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caffeinatedmunchkin · 5 days ago
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An Iron Hand in a Velvet Glove
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Emmrich Volkarin x Fem!Rook ✦ Rating: M (MDNI!) ✦ 13k words
"Their corpse proved quite stubborn." He presented her an opportunity, and she grasped at it in desperation. "I'm surprised, you're so very good at taming stubborn." Her playful attempt at schmoozing won a stiff snort, and nothing more. "Oh..." Breathed with a coy lilt, she feigned innocence that could have been believable, if she were anyone else. "Are you still cross with me?" Stealing another gulp, he sneered against it's bite. The strength of which smoked his voice to a heady resonant. "Back during your apprenticeship, when you disobeyed one of your superiors, or spoke back at them out of turn; in what manner did they see fit to punish you?" A preemptive attack from which she was slow to recover. "I... got a good tongue lashing." Her words were tight from a throat that fought against their release. "A common occurrence, I might add." "Just as I suspected." After a breath, he then angled a brow down into his drink. "The correction of your behavior falls into my lap after all."
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Crossposted to AO3!
I just want to take this opportunity to once again acknowledge and thank you for all the wonderful feedback I received on my first Emmrich piece. All of your praise, engagement, compliments, freak-outs - you name it - have been the single most gratifying, uplifting, validating and humbling experience I have EVER received in all my years of sharing what I’ve written. From the bottom of my little perfectionist heart, you are all in my cool book.
With that said, may I humbly offer this to all you incredibly sexy, gorgeous Emmrich babes to which I’m forever indebted. This one’s for you. 
This is hands down the most stressed I’ve ever been to post something LOL
Writing this was a wild oscillation of; “I’m on to something here” and “this is straight trash”. So I either really popped off with this fic, OR, I lost my mind and it’s documented here for all to witness. Regardless, I REALLY hope you all enjoy!  *blows kiss for all you lovelies* and to my one super sweet anon, this ones especially for you 😩 you kept the imposter syndrome caged so I could finish this. 
Dusk settled over Treviso like a veil. The gradient of a setting sun against the encroach of twilight a dreamlike glow, it stretched across the skyline in a rosy, gossamer haze.
Despite the festering boils of blight, and roving Antaam units, the city was still almost serene. Crickets chirped and nightingales squawked. Music drifted from the odd window, cracked open to invite the warmth of the breeze. A strong city; one too proud to kneel. Too enamored with its culture to bend to the devastation.
Emmrich and Ariadne were dutifully at each others side, while Neve trailed behind to afford them privacy at what she thought was an adequate distance.
The three were on their way to report back to Teia and Viago; their beloved city, and her people, no longer unwitting victims of the Qamakmaster, or his modified poison. The younger Watcher insisted they traverse the more "scenic route" along the canal proper.
In this it's most desperate hour, much of it's familiarity withstood the test of its carnage; sprawls of ivy wove through panels of lattice work. Pockets of lamplight dotted the pathways, their warm flicker reflecting off the lazy churning of the waters they strode beside.
The younger mage coiled herself around his arm like a vine. Content to take in the sights alongside him in shared silence, their physical contact was non-negotiable. She didn't care much for discretion when it came to their burgeoning affair. There were high stakes and grave consequences greeting her at every turn, every decision consigned to her.
She possessed neither the patience nor energy to pander to self-control. Least of all during these scarce luxuries of calm; the lulls between urgency.
She needed Emmrich's closeness. His touch.
Though the elder mage was more reserved in his displays, he bore her attachment with pride.
Still not quite used to the notion that his affections were requited, he couldn't deny the swell of his heart with how candid she was with her own.
How could he protest, when such a pretty thing wanted to be seen cozied up to him? Hanging off his arm like he was some young, and virile stud?
No, Emmrich could deny her nothing. He was weak to her. And by the ingratiating little simpers she'd aim his way, he swore she could smell it.
At times it still caught him off guard, her wild attraction to him, her insistent fawning. The elven necromancer lunged at him like a little lioness in heat, regardless of when or where - or who might be unfortunate enough to happen upon them in the midst.
But it wasn't a habit he felt compelled to curve.
The others seemed largely unphased. Bellara thought their relationship held devastating romance, no doubt drawing on bits and pieces for inspiration to her new craft. Neve adored Ariadne, and Araidne her - the two kindred street rats. He surmised her blessing had more to do with seeing such a close friend so happy, than the bearing of her personal approval of him.
Lucanis was content to get in his subtle teases and knowing smirks whenever he was the first to breakfast in the early mornings. Slinking off with servings for two, looking more than a hint disheveled and stupefied. Taash pretended not to pay attention, though he sometimes caught them initiating a covert high-five when crossing paths with Ariadne.
That left Davrin and Harding as the outliers.
Nothing malicious, Harding would sometimes make remarks that at times seemed innocent, while others were more coy. They all made him squeamish, which he maintained his best to keep polite about.
Davrin's approach was more blunt, albeit good-natured. Chuckling at his own crude jokes; those to the effect of the poor young Watcher abandoned by her parents, and her subsequent daddy issues. And how 'good old Emmrich sidled up to scratch that itch.' All in good fun, they turned his complexion ashen, and rang in his ears all the same.
However none was a harsher spectator than himself.
He'd lay awake deep into the night, with her pert figure sprawled naked atop him. Her shorter limbs curled around his like another one of his jewels, while she slumbered.
His racing mind tormenting him, even in the safety of his post-coitus haze, by the disparity of their years. Or by the stomach-turning truth of their first meeting, one he kept close to the chest.
That this little body that writhed under him in worship to his prowess, that rode him to mutual release while screaming his praises, was the same one that fit in the palm of his hand those twenty odd years ago. An incongruity he could draw because he had done just that. Only once, but the memory was sharp. Punishing.
Every time he reminded himself of that fact, he felt even more ill than when Harding had, rather abruptly and in full company, asked if he was old enough to be Ariadne's father.
It would have made him a very young father to have sired a woman of her age, but that didn't exempt him from that candidacy, he'd have to concede.
Is what he said at first, and a touch too defensive.
Until he did the math, and the realization dawned that it was not only reasonable for a man of 27 to have a babe - the age that he was when he met her, a fresh infant - but that most 27 year old Neverran men did. Some even had several by then.
He hadn't smoked in quite some time, but after that self-confrontation his clammy fingers itched to feel the length of a cigarette dangle between them.
"A pity." He volunteered with a sigh, willing his tortured psyche to rest. The craving for that detestable vice he worked so hard to best now rearing once more. "to see such a place ravaged by the blight. Though I would be remiss not to commend the perseverance of it's romance, despite all it's had to endure. I can only imagine how magnificent the blooms here might have been before."
"I thought you might think so." She drew herself tighter into him, both arms winding around the one she leaned into. To his measured chuckle, she melted.
"Dear girl, do you mean to tell me my accompaniment was requested just so you could hear me wax poetic?" His smile soft and amused. "Do you find me so predictable?"
She gazed up at him from beneath the thick flutter of her lashes. "I had hoped the atmosphere might inspire some of that famed spontaneity from the trysts of your past you've seen fit to regale me."
His gait faltering, he peered down the bridge of his nose at her, gawping at the confession.
He was becoming more adept at swift recoveries from her flirtation. She was almost disappointed in how quick he rebounded from this attack.
"You little jezebel." His reprimand was steeped in such a deep sultriness it burned the tips of her ears, murmured low to keep his words between them. But not low enough. Neve shook her head with a wry grin.
"Why don't I catch back up with you two at The Diamond." Her gaze flicked over them with an impish gleam. "I think you know your way back from here."
Emmrich had forgotten himself, and Neve, swept up in the generous evocations from his little blonde temptress. A profuse apology - and a begged pardon - at the ready, Ariadne cut in on behalf of his mortification.
"Are you sure?" Her eagerness to having him all to herself betrayed by the smirk she fought and lost.
"If I know one thing well, it's to leave the party when I'm having the most fun." Neve waved her hand as she sauntered on ahead. Without looking back, she called to them from over her shoulder with a smile in her voice. "Behave yourselves."
The pair of Watchers paused in a testament of their resolve. Their combined focus trained to the ice mage, as she moved further along the cobblestone walk and rounded the corner of a building, disappearing from sight. Leaving them alone.
Ariadne was the first to strike; hard and fast. Winning a startled grunt from him to the sudden impact of her body colliding with his.
Her arms snaked around his neck, she pulled him down to bridge the gap in their heights. A necessity in capturing his lips, even as she perched on the tops of her toes. Latching her mouth to his, she kissed him deeply, and with hunger.
One might have suspected a long-awaited reunion between the two, if her fierceness was anything to go by. And the loud, exaggerated approval she moaned, as his fingers began their own storm of her figure.
A new fragrance decorated her pulse, one he knew she selected with him in mind. A suggestive mingling of praline and black peony, it pervaded his senses to disarmament. When he breathed, he could smell only her. When he swallowed, he could taste only her.
In one swift motion - careful not the break their frenzied necking - he hoisted her up in his arms, while her legs curled around his waist. Her ankles locked at the small of his back, the little necromancer wrapped herself around him as if she wanted to permeate his flesh. Unable to get close enough.
He walked her the few steps to the banister overlooking the canal below. Placing her atop the railing, his hands were freed to explore. His wide palms roamed her, their paths indicated by the soft jingle of his bracelets, as one settled against the small of her back, while the other trailed up to her neck.
Though he handled her as if she were as fragile as a pressed flower, the placement of his hands were overwhelming with how deliberate. He cradled her with possession.
Her thighs parted to allow his stance between them, tugging his lean torso closer to press up against. Lulling her head back to grant his tongue deeper access down her throat, one hand fisted in the cloth of his robes, while the other made a brazen cop of his length.
Palpating his shaft with intent, Emmrich rolled a grunt against her tongue, both exasperated and needy in equal measure.
"Ariadne- please." His lips numb from her fervor, the corner of them twitched in a smarmy grin at her impatience. "We've made enough of a spectacle as it is."
She gazed up at him like a wild thing; her eyes glossy and lips kiss-swollen, with a heaving chest to match. Looking over first one shoulder, and then the next, she found the streets were calm, and still. The only sound between them were the breaths they exchanged, and the gentle laps of the canal to its revetment.
"You're in luck. There's no one else here now. Only us." Leaning back in to mouth at the jut of his Adams apple, she then tilted back to nip him beneath the jaw. Smiling into his skin as it rumbled with a relenting chuckle.
Peppering a trail of light pecks up and over the cleft in his chin, she sought his mouth once more. "And I've-missed you-Emmrich." Her whispered declaration broken apart by lips that crashed ceaseless upon his.
"I'm-right here, my-darling. I haven't-gone away-" He managed to slip out sections at a time, in the breaks of her assault for breath.
He felt nimble fingers sweep across his shoulder blades, to knot in the draping along his upper back. Her free hand had found the close-cropped hairs at his nape, to comb her nails through the base of his scalp.
Stalling any reservations he might have held, he purred to her attention like a pacified panther. With his guard lowered, she pounced.
"I've missed you inside me." Her hips rocked against him in emphasis.
The little Watcher's words dropped his stomach to somewhere down around his knees. She abandoned his mouth altogether to nose at his pulse, humming in satisfaction at how it quickened beneath the press of her kiss.
The sharp cut of his jaw lured her next, nipping a path along the ridge of bone from chin to mandible. Relishing the deep groan she won for her efforts, and the musk of his aftershave; pine and cedar-wood heightened by the spice of Neroli. Even freshly groomed, stubble was quick to shadow his gaunt cheeks, and she adored the way it caught her lips, and snagged her flesh whenever he nuzzled into her.
"My dear, your enthusiasm flatters more than my words could ever hope to express; but we must exercise some restraint."
She giggled into the open-mouthed kiss that stretched her lips over his high cheekbone.
"Asking me to heel, are you?"
A challenge to his authority, he rose to the occasion with the grace of one who didn't have to force his hand. Submission had been freely given, in offering to receive his lead.
"Not asking, my pet." He increased the pressure of his palm slipped around her nape, scruffing her like an unruly kitten as he pried her off the side of his face to lock eyes. He tried not to dwell on how limp she went in his hold, or the salacious little mewl that squeaked past her lips. "Expecting."
She peered up at him as if in a daze. The hazelnut of her eyes nearly overtaken in full by her pupils, her ferality was softened by the thick lashes she fluttered up at him. His other hand rose to cup her jaw, dragging his thumb down over her bottom lip.
They parted for him in obedience, the pink of her tongue coming to flick over the tip of his digit in dizzying suggestion.
"One of these days, my love, I will be undone by you." He slid the gloved pad of his thumb over the muscle, through her teeth. Sealing her lips around him, she began to suckle whilst holding his eye-contact, his lids now just as heavy as her own.
The gentle pulling of her suction, and the swirl of her limber tongue, were sent straight down to the heavy twitching of his groin. His voice all the hoarser for it. "And it will come to the surprise of no one."
A smile spilled across her face. A retort no doubt at the ready, a distant, hostile shout in qunlat - that presented like an expletive - caused her words to die on her tongue.
They turned in unison to see three hulking Antaam charging their way, their painted faces screwed in rage.
Three warriors against the two necromancers, they untangled from one another's embrace. Offering his hand, Emmrich helped her down from the railing to her feet, as her much smaller one slid over it in acceptance of the gesture.
The roaring Qun's interference offered harsh sobriety, Emmrich's withdrawal from her body heat stung. Not at all dissimilar than if he had plunged himself in an ice bath.
Sharing a brief glance as the assailants advanced, the two Watchers split up to close in before they lost the chance.
The largest of the three, the surmised leader, honed in on Ariadne. Though there wasn't much assistance he could lend, his hands full with the other two.
He made sort work of the first; ensnaring him in vortex of the intolerable hisses and shrieks of damned souls. It pulled him to his knees while he held his ears to the tortured plight they now put upon him. With shut eyes and covered ears that wept crimson, Emmrich turned his attention to the second.
In a display far less flashy, he swept him up in a similar, vicious gust that sent him careening backwards into a far-off trellis, one he had been admiring mere moments ago. The collision saw it splinter into a cloud of wooden slats and mangled greenery. The warrior remained motionless, upended over the wreckage.
Having all but written off the first, he ignored his presence in favor of seeking out Ariadne. Availing himself to her aid had been his desire from the start.
Spinning on his heel he found her, standing above the leader who had begun the process of disintegration by way of concentrated necrosis. Sprawled at her feet, he clutched at his throat in a futile attempt to prevent his gasping breaths from continuing to siphon. The unassuming young Death Caller took a step back, prying her eyes away long enough to catch his.
The beginnings of a triumphant smile morphed into a flash of panic, as her gaze shifted from his face, to beyond his shoulder.
"Emmrich!"
Her warning had sufficed. Whipping his head around with plenty of time, and distance, between himself and the charging Qun, the chipped edge of his blade poised to embed itself in the senior Watchers chest. Stricken blind, it saw him swinging it with heightened aggression, and in a worrying lack of direction.
The situation corrected itself just as quick. One moment he had been staring down the jagged bite of battleaxe, and before he could react, she had taken his place. A violet ripple flickering in the Fade, she then materialized in front of him. Right in the buffer that separated him from hungry steel wielded by an angry, blinded Qun.
Insinuated between them as if to shield him with her smaller, delicate frame. Only by then the warrior had been much closer than before, shortening the distance with his lumbering flails.
Placing herself in much more danger than he himself had been.
An acidic eruption of necrosis sprang forth from her outstretched hands, and not a moment too soon. A plume of murk that enveloped him in unending smoke, the torrent bent to her whim and swirled at her command, as if it possessed sentience.
Curling around his being in gaseous rot, it dissolved his armor with the same ease it did his flesh. Rending him to the ground in a sloughed heap of bone glinting from beneath pulpy tissue.
She kept her eyes trained to the veritable sludge that up until recently resembled a fearsome biped, all the while his bore into the back of her head. Molten embers where placid pools used to be.
How could she be so cavalier in risking what was most precious to him?
The very thing that called the entirety of his pursuit of Lichdom into question; unable to conceive of the loss of her from the remainder of his days, much less having to bear her absence for all of eternity.
A gesture that could have endeared him, his innermost turmoil saw it twisted.
And as much as he didn't want to acknowledge it, it touched on the sensitivity of his age - the tenderest spot. All his frustrations and guilt as of late wove back to that resentful infestation of the self.
Did she think him feeble? Impotent?
It was a curious thing, he never considered himself old before her. Fresh into his fifties, he was just as fit and alert as ever. Even more so then some of the youngest men at the Necropolis.
Softness has gathered in areas where there hadn't been. Aches in his joints persisted for longer than before. The salt and pepper of his hair had since committed to it's silver luster, and his crows feet had decided to stay. Despite all physical signs of maturity, it hadn't stemmed the flow of admirers he'd attracted, both in and outside of his classroom.
Yet when Ariadne all but plopped herself into his lap, he felt geriatric.
A coy glint roused in the hazelnut of her eyes upon noting his bewilderment. Having misread his expression entirely.
"What would you do without me?"
The muscle of his jaw rippled as he clenched it. "An apt question indeed."
His terse grit startled her like a clap to the cheek, quirking her brows.
"What's wrong?"
"Your recklessness." He bit back, frustration narrowing his round eyes to accusatory slits. "Needless endangerment is not heroic, it is inane."
Emmrich had never snapped at her before. Once she thought on it, she realized she had never seen him lose his temper with anyone.
Grappling with a whirlwind of confusion, she latched on to one point of many that insulted her sensibilities. "Needless?" She parroted. "You were seconds from being cleaved in half! What would you have had me do, stand idle to your demise?"
He softened, but only some.
"Do you think, in such a scenario, that I'd prefer you, then, in my stead?"
Hip cocked, she folded her arms across her chest in defiance. "You were threatened, so I acted."
"Yes, you most certainly did." He conceded. "With breathtaking imprudence."
The scar striping her nose disappeared into the adorable, girlish crinkle at the bridge. "I'm no thing to be coddled."
"I'm not coddling, dearest." His anger ebbed into the tired patronizing of a professor lecturing a rebellious student. His inclusion of the pet name had her bristling. "Do you hold self preservation in such low regard?"
"I'll not apologize for wanting to protect you." Knowing full well her spite would only worsen things, she was too aggravated to ponder the decision. "You're very welcome, by the way."
"I'm quite able to fend for myself, my dear." For how dignified he maintained, his ruefulness was just as clear. Splintering his poise like veins through marble. "I've been doing so since well before you were even born."
That sent her eyes back into her skull. "Oh, Maker - anything to bring that up, I see."
"It bares repeating." He stiffened.
"Is that what this is about?" She scoffed, her tone raising to a chirp. "Is your ego so fragile that it's bruised just by coming to your defense?"
His hackles raised despite himself. For how soon he was to forget just how mouthy she was, her attitude was quicker to remind him. As did her penchant for needing the last word.
"This isn't about ego - I'd just simply ask that you abstain from rushing into danger headlong."
Enunciated with the air of someone unruffled, Emmrich had succeeded in snuffing out the spark of his anger before it spread, while hers only seemed to blaze in full swell.
"Are you quite finished berating me like I'm a child?"
"That," he plunged his voice into his chest, his admonition firm. "is contingent on whether or not you continue to behave like one."
Her pupils dialed to points that pierced him. Her pout pressed to thin line, she glared up at him with a suspiciously stilled tongue. He matched her, but with a significant discrepancy in vitriol.
"A necromancer so afeared of his very medium, it reduces him to petty insults."
A hideous thing to say. No sooner did the words escape her mouth, did the tension between them see fit to gag her, but it had come too little too late. Her venom singed him.
Holding her stare, he remained quiet, his uncertainty of how to proceed etched in the deepened lines of his face. All the while, remorse spilled through hers. Gradual and dreaded, like a wound as it bled through gauze.
A sigh then bruised his lungs. "So it would seem."
Her rationale pleaded with her to say something - anything - her owed apology notwithstanding. Her throat locked with a dry, acrid taste in her mouth to the mere thought.
The infestation of her foul mood first needed to be exterminated, before she'd be allowed to speak. Lest she do further damage.
"We've dallied for long enough." While chaste, his inflection had regained much as it's usual strength, and his expression matched his solemn posture. Though he couldn't hide the wistful glint from his eye. Not from her. "I believe it's time we were on our way."
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The rest of their time together was condemned to contemplation, and unbearable silence.
By the time they reached The Cantori Diamond, Ariadne had simmered. More regretful of what she said in carelessness, than what had gotten her so hot in the first place.
She thought to try for reconciliation, but her pride - and shame - kept her preoccupied, as she relived their argument.
Her temper had flared, but she didn't mean to lash out so. Her confusion to his vulnerability certainly didn't excuse her indelicate handling of it.
Though Emmrich's state remained questionable.
His frustration with her had been much quicker to cool. A sudden spark of unchecked emotion before he smoothed himself back over, as if his careful disposition had never cracked in the first place. Yet he was still troubled. Still on edge.
Still dismayed by her accusation, and how rash her behavior.
The little elf stole sidelong glances at him on the occasion, brimming with the hope their banter had returned with every breath he took, or sighed.
But Emmrich opened his mouth to broach her not once. So neither did she.
Upon their return, they were greeted by Neve. Waiting for them outside on the balcony, poised with the anticipation of one who bore news.
Her keen observation noted the shift right away.
Mussed hair and disheveled armor, with more than enough guilt between them weighing their repentant expressions. Though she deduced it wasn't from unbridled passion at each other's hands; a suspicion that had everything to do with the space that split them down the middle, and kept them apart.
As they approached her, Emmrich maintained his separation. Holding hands - that never seemed able to resist the cheeky little blonde for any reasonable length of time - clasped behind his back. It raised her brow, but she refrained from commenting.
"Emmrich, Viago's waiting for you. A Crow took down an alleged associate of The Butcher's, and they're hoping you could lend your expertise in getting their dead to talk."
"Certainly." He obliged, at the ready to take his leave of the women, though not before lingering for a moment as he looked to Ariadne.
Expecting her to follow, the junior Watcher never refused an invitation to watch him work - least of all for the opportunity to observe corpse whispering. However she stood in place with no motion to join him, finding herself unable to meet his gaze. His chest caved in with a sigh.
"Until later then, darling?"
She merely hummed.
With the discomfort of that parting metastasized, she at last looked up in time to see his retreating form disappear inside. Shoulders sagging, she turned to Neve, whose manicured brow arched in suspicion.
The young mage looked spurned, as if she hadn't been the one to rebuff him. She cut in before the detective could begin her line of questioning.
"You've got the look of a bearer of bad news."
The taller mage tittered. "Only depending on how you look at it."
"Alright, let's hear it." She urged with a tired grimace.
"The Eluvian's acting out. Bell sent word she won't have it sorted before first light."
Ariadne expelled a lengthy breath. Hands on her hips, she shot her eyes upwards, seeking the strength of some unknown, higher-power. "Great."
Neve's simper threatened to become a full smile. "Aren't you going to ask me for the good news?"
"There's good news?"
"Teia's putting us up for the night." She revealed, implicit slyness alight in her hooded gaze. "I've heard tell that The Diamond's suites are something intimate."
The Watcher's heart fluttered at her friends insinuation, though reality was quick to temper that girlish rush of excitement. As if she'd been so fortunate to have forgotten about their spat so soon.
A turn events that would have been kismet, now it just seemed cruel.
"Oh..." Was all she gave. A weak, resigned mutter, it was a far cry from the reaction Neve presumed. "We could use some time away... that could be good for us."
"Alright you," she sighed, a warmth to her impending patronization. "Far be it from me to pry, but those were certainly not the faces I expected when you returned." Her shift from partner in crime, to sororal confidant complete, she gestured towards the balcony with one arm, while she encircled Ariadne with the other. "Want to talk about it?"
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Ariadne stayed with Neve for a long while, probably too long. While she valued the slightly-less-than-impartial insight, she was stalling. Only leaving the comfort of her company after she was all but shooed away to go to Emmrich, and make amends.
Finding their room with relative ease, she had run into Viago on her way - without the professor- having deduced that he retired to their shared suite, and was awaiting her there.
Trying the door knob before knocking, she found it unlocked. A pit had sunken in her stomach at the confrontation that she wouldn't be able to avoid him for any longer, no matter how ardent her attempts.
The unlatched handle was an open invitation, one she now found herself hesitant to accept. Suffocated by the weight of indignity at once more receiving his severe disapproval, she only had herself to blame.
She let herself inside, creeping through the door with as muffled of footsteps as she could manage. Unsure why she even bothered to avoid attracting attention to herself, knowing her appearance was expected.
She found his regal figure stood before a large picture window adjacent from the doorway, bathed in the luminous glow of the moon as it spilled in through the panes. An arm bent at the small of his back, the other held a stout glass of deep burgundy liquid.
The room was every bit as romantic as Neve's implication. Rich sanguine textiles dressed sturdy, ebony wood furnishings, all carved with correlating floral motifs that were as intricate as they were subtle. A handful of lanterns had already been lit; just enough to keep him from the same shadows they whipped against the ceiling, and stretched across the walls. His back to her, she slipped the rest of the way inside.
Her concentration shattered into a wince, at how deafening the latch clicked into place behind her amidst his silence. Though to the announcement of her arrival, he didn't budge an inch.
She waited in the beat that followed, suspended in the moment like a withheld breath.
Unsure of where they now stood, she needed him to be the first to act. She needed him to lead. After an eternity made to stew, he then turned his head just as far as his shoulder, his silhouette heightened by candlelight.
"Darling." Was all she got by way of a greeting, or clue to his mood. His even tone addressed her like the whisper of fine silk shifting over steel.
Dignified and assertive as ever, it both lured her in, and hid away his inner machinations. Her eyes followed his hand as he brought the glass to his lips for a healthy sip.
"Were you able to learn anything?" She tested while remaining by the door, working her cadence into conversational neutrality. Steeling herself to the possibility of a long evening ahead; one cold and lonely.
"Unfortunately, nothing the Crows were not already aware of." He dismissed with a sigh, his attention coaxed back through the window to regard the smattering of stars that smeared the midnight sky, instead of her. "Their corpse proved quite stubborn."
He presented her an opportunity, and she grasped at it in desperation.
"I'm surprised, you're so very good at taming stubborn."
Her playful attempt at schmoozing won a stiff snort, and nothing more.
"Oh..." Breathed with a coy lilt, she feigned innocence that could have been believable, if she were anyone else. "Are you still cross with me?"
Stealing another gulp, he sneered against it's bite. The strength of which smoked his voice to a heady resonant.
"Back during your apprenticeship, when you disobeyed one of your superiors, or spoke back at them out of turn; in what manner did they see fit to punish you?"
Far from the course of conversation she anticipated, it had her reeling. A preemptive attack from which she was slow to recover.
"I... got a good tongue lashing." Her words were tight from a throat that fought against their release. "A common occurrence, I might add."
"Just as I suspected." After a breath, he then angled a brow down into his drink. "The correction of your behavior falls into my lap after all."
Every time she believed she had righted herself on even footing, he staggered her once more, each time quicker than the last.
He now had her pinned and wriggling from beneath his thumb. The obstreperous little necromancer who never knew when to quit.
Who acted out, and prodded boundaries - yearning to know where one ended, and the next began.
He was inundated all of a sudden with the memories of his colleagues, and from not long ago, bemoaning the unruly young apprentice. How stubborn, and non-compliant she portrayed. How impossible she was to reign in.
Emmrich now well understood what she needed. And his was just the firm hand for the undertaking.
She cocked her head at him with a wrinkled brow of her own. "Meaning...?"
To this, he turned to her. At last face to face, she fought the urge to squirm beneath the weight of his gaze. Shrinking away like a frisky cub who had nipped the ear of the panther one time too many.
"Tell me, my dear, do you recall during our first night together, you mused what discipline by my hand might have been like?"
The little elf blinked. Opening her mouth, only for it to fall shut, she then answered lamely. "Yes... I do."
Though his expression was serene, his tone lowered several octaves.
"That mouth of yours has landed you in quite the bind." Without breaking eye contact, he pushed away from the window and strode the short distance to the writing desk that sat between them. "One a miserly tongue lashing will not relieve you of."
Her lips quirked in the beginnings of a scoff, but before the sound could complete itself, Emmrich interjected. His brow lifted in infuriatingly dashing arrogance, his authoritative edge cut through her with a shiver as he made his first demand.
"Remove your clothing. All of it."
A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she crushed that threat upon recognizing his severity.
The young Watcher couldn't help but hang there with a dumb look on her face, only to be shaken from it by his gentle condescension. Ever patient, but grave in unambiguity. "Was there something of my instruction that necessitates reiteration?"
Speechless in reply, his expectant look goaded her to follow his orders.
However coltish her movements, and the beginnings of embarrassment heating her cheeks, she did as Emmrich said. Prying off her boots and shimmying out of the layers of leather and cotton that clung to her legs, all that was left was to shirk the bolero from her shoulders, and pull her collared blouse up and over her head.
A groan seethed from the pit of his chest at the sight of her body naked and flushed.
Teacup breasts that fit so nice in his hold, it was as if they budded to the exact specifications of his hands. The dusky peaks of her nipples hardened to their abrupt exposure. The temperature of the room mild, they stiffened to attention all the same. An achievement he prided himself on.
Her form so fresh and nubile, an ethereal daintiness afforded by her elven features made for an enticing complement to her other, fuller attributes. Decidedly all woman. A slim waist accentuated how wide her hips were by comparison, the observation incited reckless imagination.
Rousing fantasies from the most debauched of his recesses, the sort he'd otherwise be far too ashamed to acknowledge. The age that he was, and the gentleman's demeanor he paid strict adherence to.
His little Watcher wasn't shy. Even as early into their relationship as they were, he had seen her naked plenty. Yet this was uncharted territory; a new, untried side of Emmrich that both thrilled and intimidated her all at once.
Though she rushed to strip at his behest, her hands rose to cover what indecency she could think to shield. The first mistake of many he'd soon scold her for.
"Ah- drop them." His chin lifted, his one brow arched. "Now."
A whimper blossomed in her throat as she forced her hands to her sides. He flicked his gaze over her from head to toe, candid in his assessment of her presentation.
Her timid posture, her fidgeting. That untamed, seductive shimmer returned to her eye.
The appetitive press of her inner thighs against themselves. Done with her body stilled and expression reserved, in hopes he wouldn't catch her.
"Unlike my fellow colleagues, you'll find me to be far less tolerant of such poor deportment." He stood tall across from her, lengthening his gait to step out from behind the desk. "Might there be even the faintest desire to offer penitence, my girl? Are you willing to submit to me your due deference?"
The blush that began at her cheeks flooded throughout the entirety of her body. The skin of her arms and legs pebbled to his crooning, she felt the impulse to rub them from her limbs, but thought better of it.
Pinned in place by his gaze, every part of him seemed to hold her to some level of expectation. At that moment his eyes alone, bright with persuasion, forbade her from touching herself again without permission.
So she opted instead to nod, and he smiled.
"Come." His fingers thrummed the surface of the desk. "You're to lean across here. Hold yourself up by your elbows. Shoulders straight, and head forward."
His cool voice and composure made for an unfair advantage, one that snuffed her resistance like a candle's flame spluttering at the end of a spent wick.
She ambled to the ledge of the desk before bending herself over it, just as she was told. Her elbows met the the polished wood cold and rigid, while the height dug it's beveled edge just beneath her sternum.
Emmrich left her there, perched on the balls of her feet, as he circled her compromised position.
"Spare the rod, and spoil the child." He volunteered with a mournful sigh, as if a sympathetic father who wanted to spank their ill-behaved offspring about as much as the she wanted to receive the spanking.
Only Emmrich was eager to introduce her to such a lesson. As eager as she was to participate, if the full roseate flush that stained her was any indication. "While I feel compelled to disclaim that I do not condone any harm done to children, you are no child. And the principal rings true."
The air fought her distressed lungs. Her struggle only worsened, as he then set his gloves on the desk for her to see. While he remained behind her, she heard the discordant murmur of him reaching for the Fade, before a hush of fraught silence fell over them once more.
When his palm slid over the swell of her exposed bottom she gasped aloud; both at the sudden contact, and how his touch wasn't just warm - it was just shy of burning.
Startled more than uncomfortable, he had her eased into the increased heat before long. "W-what are you-?"
"Enhancing sensation." His explanation as blasé as if he were no more than reciting the dogma of autogenous liminality, he teased her flesh. "Heat promotes circulation, which in turn, will heighten your sensitivity."
His caress was a means to have her more suggestible to his discipline, though it demanded monumental restraint on his end to not insert his fingers inside her.
Her soft, needy sex mere inches from where his touch occupied. His attention on that area, and all his talk of punishment at last culminated in awareness to what the fog of her mind had prevented her from understanding.
"Are you... going to give me a spanking?" Escaping from her in jest, she couldn't help how her tone quavered beneath the weight of the words. A correct response, as he affirmed her suspicion.
"I am. Twenty times to be exact. Does that seem fair, my dear?"
"Only twenty?" Teased her simper apart, the goad of one who hadn't a clue what she was in for. Her underestimation of the kind professor woeful.
Emmrich gazed upon her petite frame bent in half before him with fondness, unperturbed by her attempted riling. Withdrawing his touch, satisfied with the rosy hue he had rubbed to the surface, his next command was as calm as it was cunning.
"You're going to reach out to the Fade for me. Once you have it, you'll want a firm hold."
He soon caught sight of a chartreuse glimmer curl and wisp itself around the joints of her wrists and fingers, as she flexed them against the wood. Slight and fluid manipulation, it then settled against her hands like a second skin, translucent in the moonlight.
She had professed many times how she was awed when watching him cast; an appreciation for their shared art that he found just as delightful in her demonstration.
Where he was precise and rhythmic, she was energetic, and inconstant. The unapologetic rawness, to his innate grace. "Very good. You're to hold that just as you are; you may release only when I permit you to do so."
His choice of phrasing went straight to her clit, as it pulsed in anticipation. The opulence of the room warped fuzzy and tilted to her bleary vision, her blood-pressure spiking to how stern his directive.
"Yes sir." She breathed, lifting higher on her toes, she gave a performative little sway of her hips.
It clenched his jaw until the joint creaked, though as far as she was concerned, he was otherwise unmoved by her bold provocation.
"With every strike, you will count out each one. Should you fail to maintain your cast, or lose count, we shall have to start again from the top." He cleared his throat upon concluding his recitation of her rules.
His voice had yet to pitch any higher than chest deep, and her heart threw itself at her ribs with every agonizing syllable. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
"Perfectly."
"Good."
His hands settling over her flesh had her breath catch, before it melted into the air in a sigh of relief. Emmrich smiled to himself, his ego fostered by how well she took to his touch. The slightest of his attention quelled her fire, rendering her meek and pliant.
His palms still hot, he stroked and massaged her in further preparation. Any time his finger-tips teased a suspicious descent between her thighs, her hips would rock in precious expectancy.
Finding the sense of security he lulled her to advantageous, his arm snapped forward, doling the first strike.
Nothing too severe, though it wasn't gentle - no where near as gentle as she assumed. A foolish assumption she amended on the spot. The slap of flesh echoing against her ear, she sucked in a stunned breath.
"One."
He had her full attention.
"That was very cute." Chuckled with playful condescension, her body betrayed her as it clenched in conditioned response to his voice. "A promising display of your cooperation, though we have yet to begun."
"W-what?"
"A necessary warm-up, dear girl." He collected his glass for one final sip of brandy, before discarding it back to the desk beside her. It thickened his voice to a confident drawl. "You'll know when I begin in earnest."
Thus began what felt like an hour long rehearsal of what was to come.
Emmrich paddled her with a firm hand, and varied positioning. He maintained a steady pressure, taking care between each one to soothe her stinging flesh by either a tickle, or purposeful effleurage strokes. Her grasp on the Fade came close to wavering, but never enough that he could see it's strength falter.
His insolent little mage harmonized their room with her yips, all the while he drip-fed careful praise to make certain her willfulness remained staunch.
"Such lovely little noises you make." His purr slunk between his lips to her twitching ears. It was all the preamble he spared before the transition from exercise to execution.
His first proper smack ripped the loudest gasp from her yet.
True to his word, she could sense the shift in his intentions by the weight and trajectory of his cupped palm alone. Her body sagged against the desk upon feeling him smooth over the faint pinch of toned flesh.
"O-one." She hushed, humility taking root.
"Good." He cooed. "Very good."
The next was a hair firmer, and her eyes widened as it sent her bobbing across the desk.
"Two." A more permanent blush swelled across her cheekbones, the dusty pink deepening to a vibrant rogue. Her fingers curled against the wood.
Emmrich ran a hand through his coif, fingers combing strands of hair that weren't mussed out of place to begin with. When he dropped his hand, it sailed upwards her rear for an underhanded strike.
Clapping her upside the gluteal crease, he swallowed thick beneath his collar at the way her peachy orbs jostled against the belt of his palm.
A strangled noise erupted from her, like a kitten whose tail he caught underfoot.
"Three-!"
"I must profess, darling, I expected you to put up much more of a fuss." He comforted the newest sting to prickle against her backside. "Surely I haven't silenced that smart mouth of yours already."
She was shocked by how well suited he was to playing the disciplinarian, and she was a fool to be.
Emmrich didn't have a cruel or haughty bone in his body, a fact that she would have attested to until that very moment. It wasn't born in the absence of kindness, so much as it came from his pedantic leaning.
He thrived on order, and protocol. Propriety. Steering her back in line came was as natural to him as regulating a classroom, or commanding the dead.
Now that she had been properly acquainted with this side of him, she couldn't help play the brat. Unable to resist the temptation of his masterful ploy.
"I think you're holding back because you're sweet on me." A lazy grin spread her cheeks, while she braced for the bruising she was all but begging for. "Those hands of yours should have me unable to sit for a week."
"Ah," he almost sounded pleased that her bite was returned, if only to excuse his dialed force. "There she is."
Four, five and six made her thighs begin to quiver. Smacking first up the back of her hindquarters, against their left side, and then the right. Thwack-thwack-thwack. A tingle roused beneath the burning skin, it reached the apex of her thighs, as she wept for him there.
Emmrich granted her a moment to catch her breath. Petting the sting, his praise un-spooled from the seat of his chest near vulpine in it's conceit. His croon cloying and velvet rich.
"You are doing very well, my little darling." Continuing to pet her, he eyed the glow emanating from her fists for any signs of weakness in her tether. "Though it comes as no surprise, I'm sure to you this has all felt little more than a tickle."
His next three blows were rapid fire, coming firmer than she was prepared for, and faster than she could count out in sync.
"Seven-e-eight-nine!" Each one echoed by her shrieks, jolting her higher on her toes while she scrambled further along the desk, as if to escape him.
Ariadne held tight to the Fade, willing her focus as it threatened to recede from her grasp with every hit. He leered down the prominent bridge of his nose at how she pressed her thighs together with a whimper, and shook his head.
"Ah-ah, there will be none of that." He inserted his foot between hers, nudging her legs apart. "Come now, widen your stance."
With much chagrin she allowed herself to be spread by him, as if she had much say in the matter. The senior Watcher was quick to correct her with the lashing that followed.
Proceeded by a rush of air, it was all the warning she was given before the punishment landed with a crack.
"AhH-! T-ten!"
The worst of it by far, and they were only half-way through.
Her flesh ached, the strength of which rivaled only by the emptiness her walls throbbed around. The wetness that webbed between her flushed lips maddened with discomfort, teasing her with a need for friction he kept her from chasing.
Eleven, twelve, and thirteen were slower than the last round, but made up for in their heft what they lacked in speed. The first of all of them to well tears along her lash line, each one threatened to reduce her to sniveling, as she fought to announce their respective number.
If at any point during the punishment a break was needed, it was then.
He spared her no such benevolence.
The length of his hand in full, the heel of his palm to the tips of his fingers, swept in hard to where the tops of her thighs met her glutes.
A sharp clap of flesh ripped its way through the stifling air. It shoved her across the desk, the glow from her hands flickering like a dying flame.
Fourteen. Fourteen! She hollered at herself, but her mouth was too preoccupied with gasping for breath to comply with that vocalization.
Fourteen dangled from the tip of her tongue, but her lips refused her will. She was so close to twenty. The tops of her thighs stinging, the reverberation of his whack throughout her body saw each and every inch of her pulled taut and humming.
"I'll issue one final warning." He intoned, encouraging her to keep count. "Use your words, darling."
"F-fourt… fourteen." Her voice was a strangled, weak thing. A flicker of her wildfire not yet extinguished, it goaded the low, mutter of "masal din'an." to seethe from her before she could even think to stifle it.
Aware that Emmrich most likely heard, a shred of hope blossomed in the shelter of assumption that he couldn't decipher the specific venom, obscured in the elvish.
Time ground to a halt. Everything seized in that moment, even her heart.
Then came the shuffling of feet as he positioned himself behind her, caging her against him as he planted one palm alongside her elbow, and then the other.
She braced herself as he swept in low, his mouth hovering beside her blushed ear. Her skin prickled in a wave down her body as that shelter cast her out into exposure, that faint gasp of hope shriveled and wilting.
In a startlingly fluent timbre, "ma nuvenin" was purred in response.
As you say.
The little elf shivered at the depth and severity of his enunciation. Eyes widening, heat flushed upwards from her neck in a vibrant bloom that stained the whole of her face. The arousal at hearing her language in his voice was almost enough to eclipse her dread that he knew exactly what vulgarity she had slung his way.
"Y-you-!"
Another whack doled to her tender flesh, though one that was sharp as it was stinging. Hollow. He didn't allow the meat of his palm to cup the swelling upon impact, nor did he soothe it with a lingering touch. He rebounded like snapped twine. It was a biting smack, one that had her suck at the air around her for strength.
"Fifteen!"
Before she could offer a weak excuse, he scolded her with tired disappointment. "Honestly, dear, you think me unacquainted with your tongue?"
He adored the sight of her flushed skin pebbling in the wake of this revelation. Though the exact verbiage a little muddled, he was able to parse the broad strokes. Recognizing her off-color assertions of his manhood in no uncertain terms.
"Quite the gamble, speaking to me in such a way. Perhaps I've been a touch too lenient?" He clicked his tongue, crooning with silken fluency. "Mala suledin nadas."
Now you must endure.
She craned her neck to steal a glance at him from over her shoulder.
Head held high and shoulders drawn back, not a hair of him was out of place. His leer shone with en-rapt attention - and a stray glint of gratification - one that had knotted her stomach when she caught it. He chided her all the same.
"Don't worry yourself with what's happening back here." His touch teased a path all the way up her spine to her nape, finding a hold in the ashen locks he wove his fingers through. His grip domineering, he squeezed the roots just enough, her scalp flaring in a sensual tingle as her gaped pout let slip a breathy moan.
He chuckled as he guided her head back to it's position by the reigns of her hair. "Keep your head straight and your eyes forward, dear girl. Your attention should be on your cast. Not on me."
Releasing her tresses, his splayed palm dragged back down the length of her body to flatten over her sacrum, pinning her still with even pressure. Switching to his non-dominant hand, he proved it no less proficient, as it whistled through the air before landing against her raw skin.
She didn't think a bare hand, one that fondled her so lovingly, could also raise welts on the very flesh it revered. The chafed skin of her backside served to oppose that mutual exclusivity.
"Sixteen!" Her voice cracked as she pushed it from her chest, wound tight against the blistering sting, and her tenuous grasp on the Fade.
Holding his hand in its place, the one that had just struck her returned, rewarding her with an affectionate graze to the irritation. "You're doing well, sweet girl. Very well indeed."
She opened her mouth to respond - with what, she herself wasn't even sure - before he came down on her once more, this time back against the top of her buttocks. Blossoming a dull, throbbing ache, it wrenched a pathetic sob, hitching her tally.
"S-sev..seven-seventeen." The light from her fists flickered like the flame of a torch whipped in the wind, warning abandonment. She curled her fingers in tighter, until her nails bite the flesh of her palms. Concentration battled her, as did her waning tenacity.
The heaviness of his hand seared across her rump in a ludic swipe. One that melted the beginnings of a harsh gasp into stretched moan.
"Eight-teen-,"
"That's a good girl, we're almost through." His approval at her endurance colored his baritone, soothing her with the tenderness of sincere praise. "You're doing so well for me, da'len." He hushed. "So obedient."
Little one.
She groaned at the familiar pet name, the elvish intonation deepening his voice to a silvery croon. Their power dynamic already tipped against her, this recent development plunged the scale to weigh heavily in his favor.
She could only imagine the humiliation if he let slip such a name to her around the others - he'd have her blushing as furiously as he did back when she was a school girl, buckling her knees in the same fell swoop.
If he only knew the hold he had on her back then.
"Oh, I haven't lost you, have I?" His attempted diversion successful, she hadn't noticed the rustling of his armor behind her, while he began to disrobe. Leisured, and only pieces at a time. The resolve of man well versed in the importance of pacing.
First the onyx outer layers, and gold plated adornments were placed on the desk beside her. Then a green blur in her peripheral, as his collared shirt joined the neat pile. Now bare from the waist up, it was a tactic to further her distraction. For even at the nineteenth, his next blow startled her. Her sore body jerking forward with a throaty groan.
"N-nineteen..."
Grasping the Fade now felt as though she were trying to pluck a sewing needle from the surface of melting ice with a gloved hand. It dimmed in pulsations like the twinkling of a lightning bug, before steadying itself back to his desired opacity. She expelled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"There you are." He purred. "I was beginning to suspect your mind had wandered; we almost began again from the start."
The final blow plucked a yelp from her, frail as her spent lower half felt.
She was finished.
Ending on the same sweet spot of where her rear ended, and her thighs began, a numbness began to seep throughout the burning muscle in ecstasy. A kindness of her body, having turned the intensity of his pain to subdued pleasure. Admittedly not as delicious, but leagues more tolerable.
"Twenty."
"Yes, dear girl, I believe so." One palm swept an absent-minded path over the swell of her, now thoroughly raw and hot to the touch. "I wonder; was I successful in communicating the purpose of this lesson? Or does that darling petulance within you remain?"
"I... but you said-," her tongue stalled, as sluggish and unreliable in her mouth as it was when she was intoxicated. She huffed in frustration, and tried again. "I did as you said-,"
"An adequate performance, though not wholly satisfactory." He of course teased, but did so believably. "I question your interpretation of this exercise."
"I... I've been good." She croaked in embarrassment to how subdued he had her.
"Have you now?" He mused, his palm sweeping over her like his touch was a balm to the angry flesh. "Only one way to be certain."
He sank to his knees behind her, and swallowed hard at what he found.
He could see how swollen she had grown from his spanking. Burning bright pink, and drooling from between her quivering thighs.
"Oh just look at you." His warm breath misted against her as he rumbled in appreciation. Though he still kept firm to his stringency, his admiration was unmistakable. "I fear my punishment was enjoyed, and rather too much, you wicked little thing."
"I-I, I didn't... I-,"
"Shhh." Mouth snapped shut, her eyes misted despite herself, as he spread her apart in more thorough inspection. His fingers adroit and reverent, as if peeling apart the petals of a tulip in fresh bloom. Wet with early morning dew. "It's of no use to demur, my girl. I see well the mess I've made of you."
Any semblance of a reply she might have been able to articulate was strangled by the obscene moan that erupted up her throat.
Opting against prelude, Emmrich had darted between her shivering thighs to flatten his tongue against her slit. Opening her up to his eager mouth, the agile muscle flicked and slithered along her slick heat.
At his first taste of her piquant nectar, he groaned into her, feeling it's conduction along her aching sex as much as she heard it muffled from between her legs.
An imperceptible pressure bore down around the entirety of her body, squeezing a gasp from her burning lungs that choked it's way out. Ariadne felt his lips curl in a smug grin against her tender folds, before beginning to move them against her in the makings of a deep, impassioned kiss.
He worked her entrance to interrogation. Demanding her noises, and her trembles against his relentless mouth. Intent to find the obstinate little hellion he believed to still be lurking within.
"E-em... Emmrich-," her eyes watering, a mantra of his name poured listless for him. Hoping it served as just recompense.
He answered by creating a seal of his glistening lips around her cunt. Pulling hard, he grunted as she rocked back into his face, constricting in hollow pulsations against the tip of his tongue to encourage it's entry.
To surprise so great it collapsed her against the desk, he granted her request.
Palms snatched her thighs to hold her still, he probed the slick muscle in and out of her weeping center with lethal precision. His girth heavy between his thighs, it flicked against his trousers with impatience. His condition worsened with her every strained whimper, and disjointed stutter against his strong chin. That damnable scruff brushing her sensitive clit, the groomed whiskers of his mustache tickled her to similar unraveling.
Between the steady pressure of his shadowed jaw to rub her bud against, and his lips and tongue orchestrating a devoted composition, he had already dragged her before the crest of her release.
She had indeed done well for him, and to her efforts, a reward was owed.
Emmrich tipped his chin to allow his tongue access to her swollen pearl. Teasing it with feather light pressure in clockwise motion, he closed in tighter with every circle. Weaponizing the vibration of his hums in tandem with his ministrations, she came crashing down against his mouth with little more prodding.
The elf whined with such loud sincerity, he was certain the odd passersby as far as the very end of the walk outside their window, could have heard her without difficulty.
He lapped at her mussed petals, cleaning her up with paternal attentiveness as her full-body tremors relaxed to sporadic twitches. Next came his own maw, smeared and shining with her pearlescent remnants. Licking his lips while he rose to his feet, his sharp brow arched as he looked her over.
"Oh, aren't you a treasure." He murmured in reverential disbelief in catching sight of her persistent hold to the Fade, however weakened. "You may release, dearest, just as you may await me in bed."
Ariadne picked herself up from the desk, and lowered herself to her heels for the first time since the professors punishment.
The very professor who watched with open satisfaction as she limped across the floor, on thighs that still wobbled from his oral dissection.
Emmrich dropped his trousers where he stood, stepping out of them the moment she pulled herself onto the lavishly made bed. Electing to keep herself propped up for him on all fours, he hadn't expressed to her the position he wanted her in, she just knew. She could read it in way she felt his leer rake across her, dutiful in her presentation to him on her hands and knees.
He had never been so assertive with her before, least of all with such determination. His dexterous hands bruising in their strength. His height wielded to impose, like he had something to prove.
She hazarded a glance at him from over her shoulder.
A lean athleticism to his tapered physique, his regular, early morning cardio showed in the toned ripple that carved through the length of his abdominals.
Obliques tensed, his traps pulled taut his broad shoulders as he held himself erect before her admiration.
A dusting of silver hair between his pectorals, they mapped down his linea alba, coaxing her gaze down with it to arrive at the soft thatch beneath his naval. That handsome iron trail lead further, not that she required any additional incentive to seek what waited lower still.
His engorged length bobbed upwards in a slender curve towards his abdomen. A bead of precum at his tip, he quirked in gentle pulsations from between his thighs in wait.
He didn't permit her too much indulgence, beginning to make his way towards her with the sort of noble confidence only afforded to one who knew how he appealing we was to his lover. One who maintained exceptional care of himself, and knew his efforts were appreciated.
She wasn't left to her lonesome for long. Joining her at the edge of the bed, he grabbed her by the hip-bones to yank her up, and back to meet his groin. One foot planted on the floor, he drew his knee up on the the mattress. Dropping his pelvis to grant them the deeper angle they both knew they needed.
Grabbing himself roughly about his swollen base, his patience lasted only for as long as it took him to align himself with her soaked folds. Pushing through them with his tip, a whine dislodged from him with the guttural timbre of an animal claiming a compatible mate.
By the time Emmrich sank inside her, just to the point of where curve of his head blended with his shaft, he was completely gone. Head tipped back, a wet and strained noise of fervor sprang from the back of his throat.
Her tight velvet sheathed him one agonizing inch at a time. Even with her lubrication he still hurt her; unable to hold himself back once he felt that initial, hasty stretch of her walls. A growl seeped from his depths, knotted and yanking inward, as her muscle squeezed at him with her own greed.
He was able to will himself still for long enough to allow her time to adjust - a decent girth, he was longer than he was wide when swelled in full. A lot for her small frame to take, slotting himself to the hilt saw him bottom-out in the same motion. A gasp tugged itself from the tender depths of which his cockhead just battered.
The noises he made when he buried himself within her never failed to tighten her around him. Like a reflex, his groaned relief only worsened her need for her own.
This time had been different. He didn't experience relief. He didn't feel satiation from her plush heat kneading his heft. It only worsened his withdrawal. He wouldn't know contentedness until he split her open, and burrowed as far inside her as he could.
"You'll be the death of me, my girl. Gripping me like that," he sighed, relishing the way her core both fought his intrusion, and spasmed wider in frenetic accommodation. "Whimpering, as you are."
Long, spidery digits dug into the firm flesh of her hips for purchase. His chest felt tighter with every breath he relied on to steady himself, to keep from pistoning his hips too hard, too fast. Though her previous defiance tempted half his mind to handle her with such aggression.
Hoarse, full-body pants drooled from him like a sick hound as he began to work himself inside. Fluttering her delicate velvet as he stretched her down around his length, using her hips as both leverage for his slow, too-deep thrusts, and catharsis for what still swirled within him.
The lucidity he had been able to maintain all that time had dissolved just like that. The confines of her slobbering muscle pulsed around him with the suffocating tightness of a woman who sought revenge. Even with how thoroughly she had been broken in, her body reaped retaliation where it could.
It saw his initial thrusts ragged and uneven. The little elf had him sloppy.
"E-em-aHh-!" Ripped from her as he picked up his pace without warning. His taut musculature rigid as he leaned into his momentum, it didn't interfere with his perfect posture, even as he began to drill.
"You're infuriating. No one's ever gotten under my skin quite like you, little Death Caller." His divulgences near frenzied, he suddenly switched his hold on her to clip his hands around her upper arms.
Hoisting her up abruptly, he took from her the hold she had on the duvet. He was all that kept her from falling face first into the mattress. "You haunt my thoughts. I'm unable to rid myself of your smell - how insufferable you are, so arrogant and so effortless as you undo all that I am, all I have striven to become."
Any and all quips or pleas died against the back of her throat, strangled by the shrill yelps from the sheer pressure of his hips snapping against her. Pinching her with his grasp at the crease of her elbows. Locking her against him, while he rode her out with harsh bucks. A single strand of his hair broke free from the pomade that held it in place.
Her bottom still tender and throbbing, it didn't appeal to his mercy to lessen his attack. He was too enamored with how the swell of her fit with his groin, his slick length disappearing into her pretty pink folds with every snap.
Emmrich had always made love to her. Thorough, and meticulous and bursting with tender affection. This time wasn't like that. This was an assertion of his dominance. This was a reminder of her place.
This was a fuck. Pure, and plain as day.
His stamina was a thing to behold, but he had been stretched ever thin since their evening began. Bouncing her up and down his shaft made quick work of his strained resolve, the whispers of his climax pulled at him with neediness reminiscent of his young lover.
"Tell me, my pet." He huffed, his skin prickled at the tightening of his scrotum. Threatening the burst of his dam. "Where would you like me to-"
"In-side-me-!" The demand made breathless and choppy, his unrelenting force stilting each syllable.
He had only ever finished on her; the small of her back, the protrusion of her clavicle, one spur of the moment rendezvous that left him with the visual of him dripping down the quirk of her victorious pout. All at her behest, she had never asked this of him before, and he'd never dare suggest it.
Of course she'd ambush him at such a pregnable moment, when he felt more animal than man. Liable to unwise decisions in his haste to exorcise whatever had possessed him back at the canal.
He shut his eyes tight to her plea, as his stomach flipped over with blunt force. He knew better than to be so irresponsible, and yet-
"Ariadne." Grunted low in warning. "I'll not last much-longer-,"
He hadn't been with her long enough to gauge the risks, unfamiliar with both her cycle, and the strength of her fertility. He hadn't the time to weigh that potential cost, as her wanton mantra of please please please sent the necessary blood blow from his brain to the strain between his legs. As if he could erect harder than he already was.
"Please! Please inside me-please-,"
Her temptation was far greater than the meager shred of resolve he clung to. Her depths were so warm and snug, tugging him in deep and then deeper still. Fluttering around the heft of his cock in frantic coercion.
To feel him crowd against her womb. To leave her feeling full. Of him.
The pressure behind his eyes began to swell, prodding his paper-thin restraint. Pushing him to devolve to his most base biological motivators.
He might have been an older man, but he was still just a man, after all.
Without a hitch in his stride, he released one elbow at a time, snaking her around the abdomen with one wiry arm, he snatched her beneath the dainty cut of her jaw with his other hand.
Bending her head back, he curved over her like a viper. The extra height he had on her allowed him to look into her eyes, manhandling her like a rag doll as his thrusts increased momentum. Reaching new depths with his penetration, signaled by the crude joining of wet flesh. More loosened locks fell into his darkened eyes, further obscuring the man she knew.
Ariadne was mounted by beast who borrowed Emmrich's skin. His touch was known to her, his smell was right; but the force that pummeled her into submission she already surrendered long ago was a force she had yet to reckon with.
His rhythm faltered as she fluttered her lashes up at him, her feline gaze pleading, drunk on his speed and ferocity. Her throat purred beneath his palm with her strangled groans and whimpers, each one sent straight to the knot in his scrotum, uncomfortably tight and twitching.
The jut of his hips canting at a wicked pace, one that telegraphed his crescendo, every withdraw of his veined girth had her keening from the loss. Even from the fractions of a second it took before he thrust back in.
He was only vaguely aware of the depravity that sloshed out from over his neat lines. His crisp presentation crumbling, his mindful respectability now a memory. His view of her full hips unobstructed, her abused womanhood raw and stretched around the brunt of him was all he could subscribe to. The molten ache coiled in the seat of her pelvis cranked tighter and tighter with every nudge to her womb.
A shred of his pride remaining, it was enough. Enough to prevent him from spilling his less savory fantasies, as his tongue tangled a growled litany of English, elvish, and a language unfamiliar to her ear.
An indecipherable proclamation of just what her desire for unprotected copulation did to him, she caught it in fragments only.
Anvallenim, nadas, mamae, and his repeated use of da'len all struck at her with sinful awareness. Each word recognized twitched her ruined cunt around him. Filling in his gaps, enough to betray what he had so thinly veiled.
Somewhere through her mottled stupor she supposed that was by design. To impart his shameful urges without having to face the mortification of hearing himself voice them.
Her perfect gentleman, near unrecognizable with the sheer magnitude of his abandon.
His grunts of elvish and their implications proved to be what brought her to the edge, feeling her seize around him as she fluttered in her tell-tale crest. His tip continuing to jab the spongy patch inside of her his digits had finessed with ease. The way the tine of her right ear gave a little twitch, a call for assistance; all she needed now was a push.
"Come for me, da'len." His grandiloquent embellishment stripped, he commanded her stern and chest-deep. "Come for me."
That broke her.
And she had already been broken from the start.
A release heavy and throbbing, the coil in her stomach sprang loose, scorching her in undulation from the inside out. Fresh wetness dampened the corners of her squint, Emmrich continued to ride her through it. Massaging himself against the clenching ridges of muscle, that wrung him out with every contraction.
"This body of yours, your youth-," he huffed through grit teeth, feeling himself drift further away with every rut against her she had no choice but to take. Yielding to him like she never had before. "-leads my mind to wander to... dangerous places."
"I- l-like you- ...dangerous-," she managed to pant out in pieces. "Please Emmrich - claim me. I want you vulgar and selfish and messy and-,"
Flush against her prenatal chamber, he released.
Without the constraint of reason or dignity, he spent himself with a sharp grunt, his distinguished features screwed up in both elation and regret. His polish had tarnished and dulled, and all for her to witness.
Coating her depths with his seed, and the nagging horror that they could absolutely take root. Yet he could hardly keep his head level, let alone acknowledge such probability. Attempting too proved as successful as pinching a tendril of smoke between his fingertips. Dispersing into oblivion the moment he made contact.
The knots of semen worked their way through his girth, loosening the tension from his bowed shoulders and furrowed brow a little more with each spurt. To his flooding of her sex, she offered tender mewls of repose.
As the blinding ebbed to allow for his good sense's return, he shook like a wet hound. Stuck to her backside, Emmrich was ginger in his movements as he went to withdraw from her blessed center.
She whined in what presented like drunken protest, pawing weakly at him to keep him still, and sheathed to the root inside her. He shut his eyes as he felt the thick viscosity of his spend leak from where their sexes meshed, the sensation stirring lazy kicks of his half-hard cock against her tender walls.
Coiling his arms around her middle to lower her down into the mattress on her belly, he followed her; his softening member still nestled within her sticky heat, as he collapsed half on top of her. It almost could have been spooning, had he more cradled her than crushed her.
Not that she minded at all.
"Mm-mmrich?" Slurred by drowsiness and lousy with satisfaction, the lure of unconsciousness pulled her further and further away from him.
"Yes-," he swallowed his hoarseness, already beginning to rid the evidence of what he had transformed to during their union. "Yes, love?"
After a pause so long he thought her out cold, she then offered; "Your insults aren't petty." Her voice so small he almost didn't hear. A crooked grin curled his lips into her sweat-dampened hair. Her candied musk faint, but lingering.
"No?"
"They're first-rate." She sighed, as if given in grudging propitiation. "Peerless, as you are in all your fields of expertise."
I'm sorry.
Her stroked his thumb along her exposed scapula, seeking to tame her trembles. "An accomplished denigrator, and an old fool. You give me far too much credit, little love. Something I do not grant you near enough."
As am I.
Her breaths deepening, they shared the silence as she soon drifted away. With much care in his handling, he slid his arm beneath her and flipped them, drawing her to his chest where she belonged.
Sleep wouldn't call for him, not for some time. He was still too keyed up from what she had managed to rip from his depths. A mess she made, one she left for him to clean up.
He raked his knuckles up and down her spine, a motion that served to calm him, more than it was for her. When that no longer occupied him, his fingers crawled for her hair. Her bun had fallen out at some point during their tousle, but he couldn't recall when.
Emmrich stared up at the ceiling, his eye following how the sparse candlelight threw the shadow; flickering and twisting the source, it reminded him of how the Fade took to her. How she held it for him, even as he passed her through the maelstrom of release.
His yearning for a drag flared anew, it squirmed in his slender fingers. Aching for a cigarette, but one with the filter bitten clean off.
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Tagging as per request: @goddessnyx216
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kayewrite · 3 months ago
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Swear it again
(bsn ending #6)
Bang chan x reader !! Christopher Bang x reader !! word count: 2.8k
bsn alternative ending #4 wherein; chan.. is what your heart wants
an: any team chan here? coz babe! i wasnt in any team but i can say that.. i love chan here!! (and seungmin */sobs)
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part 1 and part 2 first
Bang Chan was the most mature person in your circle.
He was the one who would scold everyone for their wrongdoings, always making sure they understood the consequences of their actions..
He gave advice like a big brother, offering guidance that was both thoughtful and practical, always with your best interests at heart..
He provided help whenever he could, going out of his way to make sure no one felt left behind, even when it meant sacrificing his own time or energy..
And he protected your friendship in the best way he could, often stepping in to mediate conflicts, always striving to keep the group united and strong.
He wrote songs, pouring his heart and soul into every lyric and melody, creating music that resonated with everyone who listened..
He wanted to become a singer ever since he was a kid, because he loved making people happy..
He sang well..
He produced beats..
He got his driver's license at an early age..
He was gentle, his kindness evident in the way he treated everyone around him, always with a smile and a reassuring word..
He was a good cook..
He liked sunny days more than rainy ones..
His hobby was playing sports..
He thought his charming point was his dimples when he smiled, a feature that made everyone around him smile too, his happiness infectious..
He could rotate his hand 360 degrees, a quirky talent that never failed to amuse you, just another thing that made him unique..
He was handsome..
And cute at the same time.
—Wait. Were we still talking about how mature he is?
Well, no! You were talking about how much you knew him.
And why did you know him that much? Because, yes indeed, you liked him.
But—
"I swear to God! I would never fall in love with someone like Chan!" It was just a teasing moment as you lifted your right hand, as if pledging an oath.
You were playing truth or dare with your friends one time. And then you picked truth, and they teased you, asking if you liked Chan—where you immediately denied it by swearing.
And you thought you would never.
But then there was him, always taking care of you, asking How are you after your major exams.
Asking what your cravings were for the day so he could buy them for you.
Asking what you were eating in your apartment. If are you just eating cup noodles again.
Patting your back and giving you a hug when you cried after failing your physics subject, holding you close as you let the tears fall.
The first one to greet you on your birthday, warm and cheerful as he wished you all the happiness in the world.
You felt like… you didn’t understand.
Yes, others cared about you, but Chan… there was something about him you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
And when the way he slowly placed a pair of headphones on you and then played a song he had written and composed by himself, his eyes watching your reaction…
You finally admitted it to yourself—yes… you liked him.
"I swear to God…" Now, you couldn’t continue your words as the others looked at you, waiting for your answer.
"I'm tired of playing. Let's sleep." Then you stood up, leaving them with confused faces.
Well, don’t overthink it. They were just wondering if you really knew how to play truth or dare.
When he wrote that blue sticky note song… you thought he was the one who sneakily slipped it into your binder.
"We helped in making that song," he said as you faced him, "but Changbin wrote the title and most of the lyrics."
That answered your question—it was Changbin who really did put it there.
Not gonna lie, you really hoped it was him. But knowing that another friend did it, you felt anxious. If you were to tell everyone you liked this man standing in front of you… what would their reaction be?
After that night at the party, when you got home and cried, you knew now that Bang Chan liked you. But you didn’t know what to do.
It was because of your stupid swear to yourself!
Why did you pledge something when you couldn’t even handle the consequences?
You continued your life after that, but things felt different. You started putting up barriers between yourself and your friends, especially Seungmin and Changbin, who you always saw in class.
Thankfully, they seemed to understand, giving you the space you thought you needed.
But deep down, you hoped that everything would go back to normal. In just a few days, you already missed the closeness, the easy laughter, the sense of belonging that came with your friendship. And so, you made a promise to yourself that you would fix this—no matter how difficult it might be.
You were about to take a different path home when you spotted Seungmin walking in your direction. He caught your eye, and for a moment, you considered slipping away before he could reach you. But before you could decide, he stopped you.
"Wait. Let's talk."
Even though you weren't ready to face him, there was a pull, a longing to reconnect. You missed Seungmin—your best friend, the one who always understood you without needing many words.
As you both sat down, sipping on your favorite coffee, an awkward silence hung between you, thick with unsaid words.
"I know this is hard for you," Seungmin began, his voice gentle and steady, as if he had rehearsed what to say a hundred times before. "But I hope you won't go through with your plan of distancing yourself from us. We don’t want to lose you."
You bit your lip, feeling the weight of his words sink in. That wasn’t what you wanted either. They were all precious to you. You were just trying to give yourself some space, to sort out your feelings before they got even more complicated. "It’s not that I want to leave…" you mumbled, struggling to find the right words. "I just… I don’t know how to handle all of this right now."
Seungmin nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "But we’ll give you the time you need," he said softly, taking a small step closer, as if he wanted to bridge the gap that had formed between you. "Just know that we're here for you. We're friends, and we should be with each other, especially when things get tough."
It was as if he could read your mind—he knew exactly what you were thinking, even though you hadn’t said a word. The unspoken understanding between you was comforting, but it also made you feel guilty for even considering pulling away.
"I’m sorry," you finally spoke, your voice trembling with emotion. You weren’t entirely sure why you were apologizing, but you felt it deep in your heart. Maybe it was because you were about to break his heart, to put a crack in the foundation of your friendship. "I… I just…"
You wanted to tell him everything, but the words were stuck, lodged in your throat, as if admitting them out loud would make everything too real to bear.
Seungmin looked at you, his expression softening with concern. "Hey," he said gently, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It’s okay. You don’t have to say it all at once."
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. "I just don’t want to hurt anyone," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"You like someone, but you're afraid to choose because you don’t want to hurt the others, right?" Seungmin’s words hit the mark, once again proving how well he knew you.
You didn’t nod, but you didn’t deny it either. Instead, you lowered your head, unable to meet his gaze. How did he always know what you were thinking? How did he always manage to say exactly what you needed to hear?
"Don’t be sorry, you silly," Seungmin chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. His laughter was warm, like a blanket on a cold day, wrapping around you and making you feel safe. It was as if he wasn’t hurt at all, like this was just another one of your usual conversations. "Why would you be sorry? It’s not like this is all your fault."
"But it is," you insisted, your voice cracking as you finally met his eyes. "It feels like it is. I never meant for this to happen, but now… now everything’s so messed up."
"Well it was your fault to be pretty.." He mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t quite catch—But then before you could ask what, he spoke up again, louder this time, "Don’t be sorry!"
You were thankful for his words, but the anxiety gnawing at you only grew worse. What if Seungmin was just saying this to comfort you while he was hurting inside? What if he was pretending everything was fine just for your sake?
"Who is it, by the way?" he asked casually, as if he were asking about the answer to a quiz question. His tone was light, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes,
"It’s--" your heart starting to race,
"It’s Chan, right?" He slapped the table, a triumphant smile on his face as if he’d just solved a puzzle. "I knew it! Ever since we played that game years ago, I had a feeling. You swore you’d never fall for him, and you think I’m a fool to believe that?"
You blinked at him, startled. "How… how did you--"
Seungmin grinned, leaning back in his chair with an air of confidence. "Come on, it’s not that hard to figure out. You’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you think." He paused, his smile softening. "And honestly? I’m glad it’s Chan. He’s a good guy. Just… I didn’t expect it to happen so soon."
Seungmin’s laughter was infectious, and despite the situation, you found yourself smiling. "I mean… I didn’t want this to happen, but--"
"But you—"
"Wait, let me finish talking," you interrupted 'cause he was always cutting you off, laughing at his eagerness Seungmin joined in, the tension between you easing with every shared laugh.
As you continued to talk, the comfort and ease you always felt with Seungmin returned. He had a way of making everything feel right, even when it wasn’t.
"What I want to say is… go for it! Go get that Chan!" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But if he ever hurts you, I swear to God, he won’t be able to walk again."
You laughed at Seungmin’s playful threat, feeling a warmth in your chest that only a friend like him could bring. In the end, you sent him a grateful smile, and Seungmin returned it, understanding exactly what you meant without needing to say it out loud.
You hesitated for a moment before knocking on Chan's studio door. The silence that followed felt like an eternity. You knocked again, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. Still, there was no response. With a deep breath, you knocked a third time, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Chan, are you mad at me? Please… let's talk." Your voice wavered as you spoke to the door in front of you, desperation seeping into your words.
But there was still no answer. The lump in your throat grew as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. Just as you were about to give up, a voice behind you made you freeze.
"Why are you here?" Chan's voice was laced with surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you were standing there. He must have come back from somewhere, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "I mean… I’m glad you’re here!" He quickly added, realizing how he might have sounded. "I’m sorry, I just went to get some coffee. Come on, let’s go inside."
You blinked away the tears that had gathered in your eyes and followed him as he unlocked the door and pushed it open for you. The familiar warmth of his studio washed over you as you stepped inside, the soft hum of equipment and the faint scent of coffee mingling in the air.
You took a seat in the extra chair beside his workstation, and Chan set his coffee down on the table. "Wait here for a second," he said, heading toward the small kitchenette. "I’ll get another cup so we can share this."
You nodded silently, watching him as he moved around. When he returned, he poured more than half of his coffee into your cup, leaving himself with only a small portion.
"Here," he said, handing the cup to you before sitting down beside you. "How are you?" he asked, his eyes searching your face for any sign of how you were really feeling.
You tried to maintain eye contact, but the weight of everything that had happened over the past week made it impossible. You looked down, your hands trembling slightly as you held the cup. "I’m… fine," you mumbled, knowing full well that Chan could see through the lie.
He didn’t push you, though. He knew you well enough to understand that you weren’t ready to talk about what was really going on. "I really wanted to come to your apartment," Chan said softly, his voice filled with concern. "But then I realized you might need some time alone."
His understanding, much like Seungmin’s, was both comforting and heartbreaking. You appreciated how well he knew you, but it also made you feel even guiltier for pulling away from him.
Chan hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Uhm, since you’re here… Can you listen to the song I’m working on?" His voice was tentative, almost as if he was afraid you’d say no.
A small smile tugged at your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, I’d love to."
Chan’s face lit up at your response, and he quickly grabbed a pair of headphones. Even though you were perfectly capable of putting them on yourself, he carefully placed them over your ears, making sure they were adjusted just right. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t describe.
He pressed play, and the music flowed into your ears. The first few notes were soft, an acoustic intro that was both unexpected and captivating. Then the piano joined in, followed by the steady beat of drums. It was unlike anything you had heard from Chan before—new, refreshing, and undeniably beautiful.
"Are you the one singing?" you asked, your voice full of awe as the song continued to play.
"Yeah," Chan replied, his voice barely audible over the music. He smiled at your reaction, a mix of pride and nervousness in his eyes.
You focused on the lyrics, trying to piece together the story they told. The words were tender, vulnerable, and they struck a chord deep within you. As the song came to an end, you slowly removed the headphones, letting the silence settle around you.
"What’s the title?" you asked, as you always did after listening to one of Chan’s songs.
Chan chuckled, shaking his head. "I’ll tell you later," he said with a playful grin.
"It was amazing, Chan," you said sincerely, your voice thick with emotion. You could tell he felt the depth of your words, his smile softening into something more genuine.
For a moment, you simply looked at him, taking in every detail of his expression. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the warmth in his gaze, the slight flush on his cheeks—it all made your heart race. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and kissed him.
Chan froze for a split second, caught off guard, but then he responded, his lips moving against yours in a way that felt both hesitant and eager. The taste of coffee lingered between you, warm and comforting, but it was the intensity of the emotions that overwhelmed you. Your tears, which you had been holding back for so long, finally spilled over.
You realized what the lyrics were really about. They were about you. Every word, every note—he had written them for you.
I swear I would never fall in love with you that was what I always told myself too, but every time I saw you, I couldn’t help but fall harder
Swear that you will like me too, just like how I liked you. I hoped you know it… Please swear again
and that was the title.
---
an: help
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redsrooftopprincess · 3 months ago
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Gravity (Part 2)
This may be becoming a thing. There will be at least one more chapter and I have no idea what to call this thing. Maybe by the end I'll know. 😅
Gn reader x Raphael
Warnings: Hypothermia, language (but I think that's a given in a Raph fic?)
Part 1 Part 3
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It had been one week. One week since he'd slipped. One week since the fever carried him to your rooftop.
You haven't spoken. More specifically, he hasn't spoken. Apart from texting you when he made it home like you insisted he did every night, it had been radio silence. You texted him before his patrol like you always did, and he stared at his phone, expressionless, before putting it back in his pocket.
What could he say?
He'd already had the conversation a thousand times in his head, and as far as he was concerned, it didn't need to be said. He didn't need you to let him down easy.
Because you'd mean it. Every damn word. You're sorry. He's your best friend. Nothing has to change.
But it would change, there was no way it couldn't. Things were different now.
That night had been the worst of it. He'd left not long after his confession. At that point, just the sound of your voice was enough to make him weep, and he didn't want to make things worse. Not that he thought they could *get* worse.
He made up some excuse about Leo calling it early, and ran.
He was running now, through the freezing rain, a sudden cold snap in the middle of spring, and hoping that between the temperature and the downpour hammering into his coat, he could think about anything else.
It wasn't long before he was considering ditching the coat. It was already soaked through, and weighing him down, which was hard to do.
That gave him pause.
He stopped, ducking under an overhang, and opened his coat, pulling the fabric back to expose his side. He twisted and looked at the small device mounted onto his shell just under his shoulder blade. There was supposed to be a little red light. There wasn't.
Shit.
They each had them. One of the first inventions D had come up with after they'd started doing patrols as kids.
A blizzard had suddenly torn through the city one night, and they were woefully unprepared with only winter coats. The cold dropped their body temperatures, and then them. Splinter had to hunt across the rooftops until he found them, asleep and hypothermic, huddled behind a construction dumpster.
Donnie didn't leave his lab for days. He blamed himself, he should have known the blizzard was coming, that their gear was insufficient, he should have had *some* kind of backup heat supply. No matter how many times his family told him otherwise, it was his fault, and he would never let it happen again.
So he built something to fix it. Raph didn't really get a lot of the specifics, but the overall was that the small devices "converted kinetic energy into heat that was then stored and distributed throughout the inside of their shells." Or, as Raph understands it, as long as you keep moving, you won't die.
One night a few weeks ago, someone had gotten lucky and he had taken a rusted rebar to the chest that had shattered on impact. His regulator had been damaged by the shrapnel, but the weather had already been warming up, and then the season hit and it was forgotten about.
The rain must have been the final nail, only the exterior was watertight. It was dead. He could already feel the cold and damp setting in. He needed to get home. Fast.
He set off, the only sound other than the roar of the rain was the gradually slowing heartbeat that pounded in his ears.
*Fuck* it was cold.
It wasn't long before his waterlogged coat became too much to carry. He ditched it behind an air conditioning unit, and kept moving.
Hailstones felt like bullets as they pelted bare skin, and through the sheets of rain, the haze of cold and exhaustion that had started at the edges was encroaching. It wasn't long before he was too tired to think.
He was moving on pure instinct, without even the presence of mind to pray he could make it somewhere safe. Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny Leo was lecturing him for not hitting his emergency signal.
He stumbles. He is so, so tired. The soft darkness of sleep is pulling at him like a rip tide. He drags himself to the next rooftop, barely touching down before he collapses.
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repulsiveliquidation · 1 year ago
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Twice the Pleasure
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Alexia Putellas x María León x Reader [SMUT!]
these two will be the death of me.
words : 3.6k
//
The starting XI for Barca Femeni against Real Madrid has been announced! Their newest transfer from Manchester United, Y/N L/N makes her debut at El Clásico for the women’s team just weeks after making the move from Manchester following her former Red Devils teammate Ona Batlle; the move bringing both of them back to play on home soil.
//
“How are you feeling, bebita?”
“Sick to my stomach.”
Alexia moves closer to you, standing in front of you and pulling your head into her stomach. She cradles the back of your head, nails lightly scratching your scalp. Mapi walks in in search of the both of you, sighing with a smile when she sees Alexia’s back and your arms around her hips. She walks in and sits beside you, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
“Nervous?”
“Not at all, Maria. I'm fucking terrified.”
“You’ll be okay, Hermosa. You’ve done this a million times.”
“Yeah but not with this shirt on, I have expectations to meet, people to impress. The both of you to impress.” You look up, chin resting on Alexia’s stomach. She gives you a toothy grin, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone.
“You’ve already impressed us, Nena. You’re going to do great. Come on, we’ve got a game to win; I want you to score a goal for me.”
“Thank you, that does absolutely nothing to alleviate my stress. You’ve just made it skyrocket. God, I think I might just pass out now.”
Mapi pulls your face into her hands, Alexia standing behind her with her serious captain face.
“Hey, you’re one of the best strikers out there. We’re lucky to have you here and we both love that we can all play together now. Go out there and show them that you deserve to be on this team. We’ve all got your back, no matter what.”
You simply nod, hugging both of them tight before walking out to the pitch to warm up. Alexia stays on the sidelines, chatting with Frido as you and Mapi pair up. Walking back into the tunnel to change, you feel a little more at ease; you had heard the crowds cheering your name when you walked out and managed to sign a few jerseys with your name on the back.
Mapi holds your hand and kisses the back as you line up in the tunnel to walk out, a pre-game tradition that the three of you had come up with when you all played on the national team together. Alexia and you still do it, giving each other an extra one for Mapi as she watched from home. The both of you hadn’t told María about your little tradition until it was caught on camera and she was watching; she cried and immediately called after the game to scold the both of you for not telling her you still did it.
Walking out to your position, you looked around and took in the sight of the fans. Their cheers fueled you with adrenaline, the starting whistle pushing you into game mode. Barcelona dominated the whole game; starting strong with three beautiful goals in the first half. You assisted two of those three, the ball finding your teammates perfectly for them to just knock it into the back of the net. Your opportunity to give Alexia what she wanted did not come until the last minutes of the game, a superb strike from you gave Barça five goals to comfortably win yet another El Clásico.
Fans were cheering for you, chanting your name when the final whistle blew. It was electrifying, the adrenaline surge just kept going higher and higher. Alexia practically ran down from the stands, a massive grin on her face as you and Mapi hugged in the middle of the pitch. She embraced you both, kissing the top of your head affectionately as you left Mapi’s arms and melted into hers.
“You did so well, mi amor. I’m so proud of you.”
“Did you see that goal I made? Did you see it, my first Barça goal!” you ask her, practically about to explode with the amount of energy in your veins.
“Yes, pequeño. I saw the whole thing, that was for me, no?”
“Yes, it was for you!”
Alexia chuckled and looked at Mapi who had her hands on her hips as she shook her head. She walked up to you, pinching your cheeks affectionately as you scrunched your nose.
“Never change, bebé. Don’t ever change.”
//
Alexia drove you both home, and the two of you decided to take a shower at home together to destress and help you calm down a little. The buzz of the win and your first Barça goal was lesser now, you sighed softly with a smile on your face as you sunk into the back seat. Alexia had her hand on Mapi’s thigh, softly rubbing her thumb across it as your hand was held by Mapi who had her arm stretched to the back. There was a comfortable silence between the three of you, the radio on low with the announcer raving about the game earlier; he was praising your goal which made all of you smile.
Pulling into the driveway, both girls in the front hopped out and grabbed the bags out of the back only to notice that you hadn’t come out of the car yet. Mapi, handing both kitbags to a laughing Alexia, opened your car door to find a fast-asleep Y/N. She leaned in and kissed your forehead, unbuckling your seatbelt before hoisting you up into her arms. She carefully closed the door behind her and walked into the house after Alexia. Bringing you into the bedroom, she slowly lowered you onto the bed and woke you.
“Nena?”
You hummed, snuggling into the sheets. Mapi tried again as Alexia climbed in on the other side. She swept your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead.
“Come on, darling. If you wake up, we can take a nice warm shower and snuggle, okay? We don’t need to cook, we can order your favorite takeout and celebrate your first goal?”
You nod begrudgingly, the promise of Alexia and Mapi snuggles was too hard to resist. Mapi pulled you up by the arm, walking hand in hand with you to the bathroom. She undressed you as Alexia started the shower, throwing in a calming shower scent bomb that she knew you liked. The warm, scented steam began to fill the room as you stepped into the shower with your two girlfriends.
Alexia was already wet from head to toe, a soft and soothing smile on her face as she reached out a hand for you to take as Mapi stepped in behind you. You stood between them, leaning in to kiss Alexia softly as Mapi peppered butterfly kisses all over your shoulder and neck. Mapi’s hands caressed your wet skin with a soft affection, the warm water encasing the three of you in a world of your own. Alexia’s hands held your face as yours wrapped themselves around her waist. After a while you turned from Alexia to Mapi, leaning down slightly into the defender as your hands caressed over her cheekbones when your lips met hers. It was Alexia’s turn to litter your neck with kisses, leaving her marks all over your shoulder blades and neck.
Your lips start to trail down slowly, kissing softly at Mapi’s neck as she kisses Alexia over your shoulder. She hummed appreciatively when you sucked just below her ear, that spot seemingly a sensitive one for her as it sent shivers down her spine. Alexia grabbed the shampoo and squeezed a good amount in her palm, lathering it thoroughly before massaging it into Mapi’s scalp. You got to work on cleaning Mapi’s body, grabbing a loofah and scrubbing her clean. The three of you cleaned each other up and an hour later were snuggled on the couch arguing about what to get for dinner.
“Can’t we get Chinese since we’re celebrating me? Shouldn’t I get to choose?” you argued.
“Cariño, we had Chinese last week,” said Alexia.
“So?” you questioned, eyebrow lifted with a questioning look on your face.
“So, I don’t want to eat Chinese this week,” she answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“How about pizza?” suggested Mapi, both you and Alexia pulling a face.
“Don’t feel like it,” you told her, shaking your head.
“Mexican?” Alexia tried, scanning through the menu in her hand.
“Tacos again?” Mapi grumbled this time, remembering the taco fiesta (you mean disaster?) team building you all did last week at Lucy and Kiera’s house.
“How about we starve?” Alexia sarcastically provided, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“Hey now, there’s a good idea! Let’s just not celebrate your girlfriend’s first game and first goal for Barcelona, it’s not like it’s anything special!” you quipped, crossing your arms in a huff as you turned away from your girlfriends in fake anger. Mapi frowned, really thinking she had made you upset. Alexia was concerned too, putting down the menus and walking over to you.
“Sorry pequeño, it’s just that there are so many options.” She says, kneeling before you. Mapi sits beside you, rubbing your back in soothing circles like she did earlier.
“We can get Chinese baby, it’s okay.” Alexia compromised, smiling softly up at you.
“How about we get all three? Chinese for me, pizza for Maps, and Mexican for you?”
Alexia and Mapi heartily laugh, as you smile at them with confusion. Alexia stands and kisses your forehead, handing you the Chinese menu as Mapi laughs harder and clutches her stomach.
“There’s a reason why we love you bebita, the two of us would be a mess without our smart girl. Go on, pick what you’d like; my treat tonight.”
//
Now that you three were fed and watered, you had pulled the two of them into bed to redeem your promised snuggle. They smushed you into the middle; Mapi tucked her face into your neck and threw her leg over yours as Alexia propped herself up on her arm and looked down at the two of you. You rubbed Mapi’s back as she began to softly kiss your neck and Alexia leaned in to kiss you. You whined, kissing Alexia back slowly. She cupped your cheek and grinned into the kiss, the corner of her eye-catching Mapi’s hands traveling lower and lower until they dipped into your shorts. Your hips jerked up when her fingers slowly began to circle your clothed folds, little jolts of pleasure coursing through you. Mapi slowly begins to kiss lower, lips ghosting over your sports bra as she leaves butterfly kisses all over your stomach. Alexia took over kissing your neck, darkening the red spots she had bitten earlier. Your head tilts back to give her room, hands gripping the sheets as Mapi’s fingers hook onto your shorts and pull them off. You were already soaking wet; she leaned in to have a little taste. She groaned softly as she tasted you on her tongue, pulling your legs apart more and Alexia helped you pull your sports bra off.
She latched onto your left breast, hand caressing and flicking the nipple on the other. You gasped out her name, back arching off the bed when Mapi took to opportunity to pull your panties off in one swift motion. The cold air in the room hits your wet pussy, sending a shiver down your spine. You enjoyed being vulnerable with the two of them and it turned you on to be the only one naked in the room.
Mapi didn’t waste any time diving into your pussy. Your hands flew to her head and you struggled to keep your thighs from crushing her, crying out her name in pleasure. She grinned widely, tongue lapping noisily at your peeking clit. She rubbed her palms over your legs, suckling softly at your folds as Alexia slowly began to take her clothes off. She pushed herself off the bed and slowly pulled her sweater off when Mapi noticed her. She paused her tongue and smacked your thigh, causing you to jump.
“Watch her, not me.”
You immediately turn your head and look at Alexia with glossy eyes, she grins and goes back to undressing as teasingly slow as possible. She turns and pulls her bra off, flexing her back muscles for you to ogle at. Her hips sway tauntingly from side to side as she pushes her grey sweats off, ass exposing itself immediately; cheeky girl, no underwear.
Your eyes roll into your head and you outwardly groan when you realize, she looks back at you with a naughty grin on her face. She walks to her side of the bed and rummages in the drawer, pulling out a harness for herself and Mapi. You never take your eyes off her, hands desperately tugging as Mapi devours you from between your legs. She climbs back onto the bed once she’s got her strap clipped in, leaning over you and kissing you messily. It’s a hot clash of teeth and tongue when a deep groan and a Spanish curse word pull the both of you out of your thoughts. Mapi’s chin is wet as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She grabs Alexia’s face and kisses her feverishly hard, Alexia groaning noisily too when she tastes you heavily on Mapi’s lips.
“She tastes good, doesn’t she mi amor?”
“Like heaven, bebé.”
They surge forward again to lock their lips together as you watch. There was nothing like watching the two girls you loved make out like you weren’t right there, their hands exploring and mindlessly wandering. They finally pull away after what seems like ages, looking down at you with cheeky smiles on their faces. Suddenly, Mapi climbs off the bed and sits on the couch, manspreading with her harness in her lap. She licks her lips and just as you’re about to ask her what she was doing, Alexia pulls you up to kneel with her and kisses you. You sigh into the kiss, able to taste the remnants of you from Mapi on her lips. She gets you to face Mapi, winking at her as she kneels behind you in the same manner. You can feel her cock poking at your inner thigh, as her arms begin to caress your smooth skin.
“She wants to watch us for a bit; let’s give her a little show, shall we pequeño?”
You simply nod, closing your eyes and focusing on the way Alexia touches you. She knew all your sensitive spots and focused her touches there, resisting the urge to touch you where she knew you wanted her to. Your knees relaxed into the bed more, leaning back into her as her hands finally got closer to your core. Her rough hands caressed your inner thighs, dragging her nails along them as she felt you shiver. She chuckled softly, fingers pressing themselves on your folds and rubbing in big circles. You knew better than to close your legs, struggling to keep them open as sensitive pleasure shot up into you.
Mapi had her eyes locked on where Alexia’s hands went, following them closely as her own hands copied her actions. Alexia dipped two fingers into your soaked hole, teasing you gently as you whined her name beautifully. She obliged, since this was a reward and not a punishment, you did do as she asked and scored a goal. She slipped her thick fingers into you halfway, getting you to open up for her slowly.
You leaned back into her chest, hands digging their nails into her strong thighs. You needed to hold onto something and as you left ten crescents on her body she slipped her fingers deeper into you. You felt the pads of her fingers graze your sweet spot and you grasped her arm, looking at her with tears in your eyes. She smiled reassuringly, leaning in and pecking your nose.
“Don’t worry, darling. You get to cum all you want tonight.”
You sigh in relief, leaning back into her as she fingered you with no mercy. Her two fingers became three, dipping themselves deeper and deeper into your slippery cunt. You were holding onto her as her lips littered more hickeys on any bit of skin she could get her teeth on, the speed of her fingers fucking you never once faltering. She gave Mapi a satisfied grin when she looked over to see her other lover three fingers deep in herself, copying her actions as she guided her youngest lover towards her first well-deserved orgasm of the night.
With a cry of her name, you trembled and keened into Alexia’s arms as she fingered you into your first high. She kissed your cheek and propped you back up. You looked up at Mapi and saw that she was now simply circling her clit, a happy smile on her face. You weren’t sure if she came or not, but were glad to see that she was having fun of her own. Alexia kissed the shell of your ear and whispered, “Bend over, need to reward my baby for giving me that goal.”
You grin and oblige, bending over and arching your back how you knew she liked. She kissed the small of your back lightly, pressing her cock teasingly against your entrance. She teased it up and down your slick folds, coyly slipping the tip in when you began to whine. She gripped your hips and pulled you back onto her cock suddenly, you let out a choked moan when you’re fully speared on her. The right side of the bed dips and a pair of muscular thighs bless your eyes. You look up and meet Mapi’s cock face-to-face and grin dopily as she taps the tip on your swollen lips.
“Suck, mi amor. Be a good girl and take it from both ends, hm?”
You nod and get to work, holding yourself up with one hand and gripping the base of Mapi’s cock with the other. You suck and swirl your tongue around the plastic appendage, eyes boring deep into Mapi’s as she watches you suck on her. Alexia was pounding into you from behind, causing Mapi’s cock to slip deeper into your mouth with each suck. It hit the back of your throat and made you gag loudly, both Alexia and Mapi letting out guttural groans as she kept fucking into you harder. Mapi gathered your hair into a ponytail and tied it back for you, gripping your head to fuck into your mouth. Alexia saw the ponytail Mapi gave you and grabbed it, using it as leverage to fuck you harder.
You could only moan and shudder, loving the feeling of being used on both ends. Suddenly, a wet finger presses into your second entrance; she gently moves her finger in and out as you’re now filled in all possible places. You begin to sob tears of pleasure that Mapi simply wipes away and keeps fucking into your throat. They begin to talk to each other again like you’re not being used by them at the same time, with literally makes your pussy even wetter than it was before.
“Her pussy feels so good, María.”
“I know it does, Ale. She’s such a good cocksucker too, such pretty lips wrapped around me.” She pats your cheek three times, hips never faltering once.
“She’s opening up so nicely for me, the view from here is fucking amazing.” Alexia describes to Mapi, giving your ass a hard smack and she pulls her finger out of your ass and grips your hips, fucking into you earnestly now. She props her leg up and begins to jackhammer into you, which only causes Mapi’s cock to continually hit the back of your throat. Mapi coos when she hears you gargling, spit making a mess on the sheets.
“Just relax your pretty little throat, angel. You’re taking us so well, Nena; such a good girl you are, Sí? You gonna make us all cum, pequeño?”
You do as she says, her hand wrapping itself around your throat as her hips begin to stutter. She’s close and so is Alexia, if her breathy whines are anything to go by. They lean over you and kiss messily, chasing their highs as yours begins to coil inside you. Mapi’s hand somehow reaches between your legs to rub at your throbbing clit and it feels like a burst of ecstasy.
“A-Ale! Mapi!” you cry out, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You’re pretty sure you blackout for five seconds and come to when you hear your name being moaned erotically by Alexia and Mapi as they both reach their highs for the night. You’re being pulled in all different directions, cleaned, and tucked into the couch with Alexia as Mapi makes quick work of changing the sheets. Alexia cradles you in her arms, caressing your cheeks before hoisting you in her arms and climbing into bed with you.
You’re in the middle again, it was Alexia this time who had herself practically on top of you as you nuzzled into Mapi’s neck. You pecked her tattoo softly, inhaling her scent as Alexia’s fingers drew random patterns that tickled a little on your stomach.
“I love you both, you did so well today. Especially you, Nena. No goal will ever be more special to me.” Her voice is barely a whisper when she suddenly speaks, pressing a kiss to your collarbone mid-sentence.
“Not even one of mine?” Mapi teases, slapping Alexia’s forearm softly.
“You’re not a striker like our Y/N, your goals are just luck.”
“I am very offended by that statement, Ale. Take it back.”
“No.”
"Vete a la mierda".
“Maybe next time, María.”
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