#pls the way she was just staring at him until he looked her way...

[cerealbishh]

"Whoever put you on that bull screwed you over, you're better than that. Unless you've gotten a lot worse over the last five years."

"... I was surprised to see you there."

[kavehater]

AURGHH I KEEP FLASHBACKING TO THE AWKWARD SITUATION TODAY

[eatfishies]

Intoxicated By Your Sweet Taste 🔞

summary: Zayne thinks he hasn’t given you much attention due to his work.

or

Pussy drunk! Zayne can’t get enough of you.

word count: 2k tags: NSFW, zayne x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, coming multiple times, domestic fluff at the end, pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: as always, pls heed the tags ~ nevertheless, this fic was inspired by this twt here ! hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

It was past midnight when the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking Zayne. She was already in bed, snuggled up with the plushies her dear lover got for her. Zayne smiled at the sight before striding towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

That action caused her to stir, fluttering her eyes open to look at her partner. “You’re back.” She mumbled sleepily.

Zayne gently stroked her hair, lulling her back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, love.” He said as he continued to play with her hair.

“I’ll only sleep if you do too.” She replied, which earned her a small smile from Zayne.

Once he had finished showering, she couldn’t help but marvel at his chiseled chest, glistening with droplets of water, running down ever so slowly. She tore her eyes away, feeling a little bit flushed.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by her observant lover though as Zayne pointed out, “Weren’t you half awake earlier? It seems like you’ve got your attention elsewhere now.”

She didn’t even bother to attempt and deflate herself because it’s true. She is enjoying this view very much.

Just like that, she hoisted herself up and had her eyes solely on him. Desire and lust coursing through her veins. “Yeah… you’re not wrong. It’s because you’re so fucking hot, you know that?”

A chuckle rumbled out of Zayne, a little surprised by her bold declaration, considering how sleepy she was earlier. “Ah, so that’s what caught your attention?”

Before she could even reply, Zayne is already making his way to the bed. Her eyes widened slightly as he pushed her down gently, making her gaze up at him.

“Have I neglected my darling? Am I not pleasuring you enough?” He spoke as his face inched closer. She felt her breath hitched in her throat as the pit of her stomach coiled with pure lust.

The words she wanted to say were caught up, speechless by the sudden mood change. She bit her lip, “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Thick, strong fingers found its way to cup her face, “Then I shall take it upon myself to satisfy you until all your needs are met.” Without any hesitation, Zayne closed the distance between them and passionately kissed her.

She gasped as his other hand went to grab her hips, keeping her firmly in place as his tongue explored her mouth. Every ounce of sleepiness she had in her quickly vanished, instantly replaced by a primal hunger for him. She needs, no, she yearned to be one with him. To feel him in every way possible.

“Don’t… hold back.” He murmured in between her lips before he moved to trail kisses down on her neck, eliciting moans and whimpers. She closed her eyes shut, taking in the pleasure she’s receiving as he continued to suck and bite on her neck, leaving behind marks.

It was just a pure coincidence that she decided to wear a nightgown but she’s thankful nevertheless since it gave Zayne easy access to slip his hand up and caress her soft skin, feeling her up. She can feel her pussy growing needier and wetter with each touch he makes.

She sucked in a deep breath when his fingers began to rub against her slick, “Someone’s excited.” Zayne remarked as he suddenly pulled his fingers away and moved down to crouch in between her legs.

Instinctively, she spread wide open, staring down at him. “So wet for me… you really want this, hm?” She nodded eagerly, “Please… I need it.”

The once impassive doctor morphed into something else entirely. His expression held a plethora of emotions behind them as he felt his own hardness beneath his towel. “Very well. Scream for me princess.”

Any sort of thoughts she conjured up turned into nothing the moment Zayne licked her drooling pussy. His tongue expertly flicked her clit as she laid back down on the bed and writhed in intense pleasure.

“F- fuck! Zayne… hghh!” She moaned out as Zayne lapped at her needy cunt, savoring all of her wetness, wanting to taste all of her.

Her hands immediately tugged onto his hair, pulling him closer to her crotch as she screamed out his name repeatedly. It was too good that she could barely keep still, Zayne held onto her thighs to stop her from squirming.

The familiar pit in her stomach intensified, itching her closer to release. “Hahh…! Z- Zayne! I’m close, I’m so close!” She whined out, to which he kept tonguing her entrance vigorously until she arched her back and came all over his face.

Zayne pulled away slightly and licked his lips. There are traces of pussy juice on his mouth but he didn’t care. Not when his precious sweetheart tastes so divine. Before she could even beg him to put his hard shaft inside her, she gasped once she felt Zayne’s tongue on her folds again.

“W- wait! I… I just came!” She exclaimed, feeling like her legs were gonna give out from pleasure. But Zayne paid no mind as he resumed his ministrations on her sopping wet cunt. Even after orgasming, her pussy still throbbed for more.

At this point, she’s pretty sure she’s on cloud nine, especially when Zayne sucked on her nub, making her tremble. Green eyes observing her movements, watching as she moans and whimpers. Looking beautiful like this, Zayne wanted to keep this memory etched into his mind forever.

It was unbearable, she tried to push him away but he kept a strong grip on her legs, his tongue relentlessly flicking her eager pussy, swallowing all of her juices. He can feel himself getting intoxicated by her dripping cunt. There is nothing more rewarding than coming home everyday and getting to lap at her entrance like a starved man whilst also relishing her delightful sounds.

“C- coming!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she came undone. Zayne lifted his head and spoke in a raspy voice, “Did you feel good, honey?”

There was no single coherent thought in her mind right now. She couldn’t even think properly, it’s all a muddled mess, too foggy with pleasure. Sensing her pliant demeanor, Zayne moved to her side, brushing off the strands of her hair from her face.

“You’re so good for me, dear.” Was the only thing she heard before Zayne trailed his fingers down to caress her inner thighs, igniting goosebumps all over. She weakly muttered, “What are you doing?” Instead of responding, Zayne leaned down and pecked her lips. “Are you a good girl for me?”

His finger easily slipped in her gaping pussy, thrusting it in and out, earning a mewl from her. She bit her lips, “T- too sensitive... Zayne…” She clutched onto his arm, looking at him with glassy eyes.

“I said, are you a good girl?” Zayne repeated his question but this time, he inserted another finger in, taking away all of her last resolve.

“Mhmm… ah! Yes! Yes!” That further drove Zayne to keep plunging his fingers deep inside her gummy walls.

It has been hours since Zayne has been pushing her far off into her limits. Sleep be damned as he is now lapping up at her loose, dripping cunt. She could only let out soft mewls and moans whenever he skillfully buried his head in between her thighs. No amount of protest could get him to stop. It’s like Zayne has been possessed by an insatiable lust demon or some sort, at least that’s what she thought.

Tears stained her cheeks as she stared at Zayne who was lazily eating her out. “Zayne… please…”

He gave her pussy one last lick before meeting her teary gaze, “Please what?”

“Please… fuck me…” She pleaded, her hands reaching out to pull him on top of her. “You’ve been torturing my pussy non-stop… I want to make you feel good too.”

“Ah, I see. So, my needy princess wants it that bad?” He spoke as he discarded his towel. It’s kind of amazing at how he managed to hold back his desire to mount her completely, especially since she looked ravishing like this. Blissed out and glowing from the amount of orgasm she lets out.

She nodded eagerly, “Give it to me, please? I’ve been so good.” To emphasize, she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to close the gap between them and feel his body against hers.

“I guess someone deserves it, after all.” With ease, Zayne lined his cock on her entrance, sliding it in and immediately began to thrust.

While their love-making session was always tender, albeit sometimes a bit passionate, it was never really like this. Intense and unrelenting with vigor as Zayne continued to pound into her deep. Her cunt spasming and clenching tightly around his cock. “Fuck… you feel so wonderful around me, sweetheart.”

Even if she wanted to say something, each thrust made her eyes roll back. Her mind is running into an overdrive as Zayne picks up his pace, unfaltering and burning with the need to come inside her.

Noticing Zayne’s furrowed brows and his eyes closed shut, “Come for me. Come inside me, baby. Want you to breed me.” She spoke, her voice laced with urgency and desperation.

At last, Zayne thrusted inside her hard before stilling, heaving and burying his face in her neck. She smiled at him dazedly as she cards her fingers through his hair. When Zayne pulled out, he watched in fascination at how her cunt drooled with cum. The sight alone made him want to ravage her right then and there, but he knew, they both had to sleep.

So, instead, Zayne helped clean her up and cuddled her as they both drifted off to slumber.

Something was wet… and there were sounds of shuffling. When she woke up, her eyes widened as she saw Zayne languidly circling her clit with his tongue. “H- huh?” She uttered out, confused and yet, Zayne only mumbled out, “Lay back. Let me please you once more before I leave for work.”

How could she refuse when her lover had asked so sweetly? She did as he instructed and laid back down on the soft bed, letting him spread her wide open. At this point, she had lost track of how many times she came, especially from last night.

This time, Zayne made sure to take his time, flicking her folds ever so slowly. One part of her felt like he was torturing her but another part of her couldn’t help but preened at how good it feels when he’s savoring her like this.

The morning sun casted a soft glow around the room, making this even more enjoyable as she focused on Zayne, tasting every drop her cunt oozed, not letting any of it go to waste. The slurping sound reverberated across the walls as she flushed.

Despite coming so many times, the familiar pit in her stomach still lingered, coiling and intensifying as she neared her climax. “Hghh… Zayne… baby, I’m so close.” She meekly mewled out, her legs shaking. Zayne sucked on her nub and sneakily thrusted a finger into her cunt, scissoring her whilst he ate her out.

Just like that, it was enough to drive her to the edge. She came, hard on his face. Her vision blurs and she shuts her eyes closed, letting the euphoria wash over her.

She faintly heard Zayne uttering a soft, “I love you” to her before getting up and tucking her in bed.

The second time she woke up, she found that Zayne had already left for work. She groggily got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. There, she found a plate of breakfast ready made for her and a bouquet of flowers.

Her body was sore all over but this gesture made it all worth it. Smiling, she walked up to the table and picked up the bouquet, smelling the flowers before sitting down and stuffing the food, the tiredness fading away and was replaced by hunger.

Luckily for her, she had a day off today and was able to cozy up at home until Zayne comes back. He gave her a fond smile as he placed the bag on the coffee table, “I got you macarons from the cafe. What do you feel like having for dinner? Let me cook for you.”

Safe to say, she is indeed a lucky girl to be able to love and be with Zayne.

[miedei]

terrible profilers

(aka the team meets early seasons!spence's not-so-secret girlfriend)

a/n: this came to me in my dream last night and i cannot get over it, pls send asks/requests and tell me what you thought! (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, the team is nosy, my niche personal headcanons of how i think spencer would text, probably more tech inaccuracies

wc: 3.5k

part one

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

The moment Spencer walks into the bullpen, he knows something’s up. Garcia never replied to the text he’d sent on Friday night, and he’d hoped she was just busy on their first weekend off in a while, but it’s clear there’s more. Clutching the strap of his satchel, he walks to his desk, observing the strange tension blanketing the room. For one, Hotch and Gideon are in the bullpen, standing in the corner speaking in hushed tones. Weird. They usually go to one of their offices to talk, and either way, they usually are stuck in their offices until lunchtime when they don’t have cases. Another thing. JJ and Penelope are standing around Elle’s desk, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but they’ve swivelled around to stare at Spencer like he’s an alien (which they do on occasion, but Spencer is pretty sure he hasn’t been strange yet. He just walked in!). Derek is sitting on Elle’s desk, leaning over to huddle with the three girls, but he’s frozen with his mouth open, like he just shut up for some reason.

“Uh… Good morning.” Spencer furrows his brows, but tries to shrug it off, more interested in the smell of coffee emanating from the kitchenette. Setting down his bag, he quickly busies himself with pouring his signature overly-sweet (according to you) coffee.

It’s like his movements snap a thread that has been holding his colleagues together, and they suddenly start bustling around the bullpen again. Derek sidles up beside him as he’s stirring in sugar, and Spencer braces himself for some Morgan-esque prod. But what he says has Spencer confused.

“Kid. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Ok, something is going on. Spencer has worked with Derek since he was 22, and they’ve fallen into a very comfortable dynamic ever since. But neither of them have ever felt the need to reassure the other of their closeness.

“What’s up, Morgan? No jabs today?”

Derek stiffens, like he’s been caught in a lie, and scrambles to reply.

“Well… We- Um, Garcia worried about you on Friday. What was up with you leaving so suddenly?”

Spencer has to bite back a smile, memories of you, coming to ‘O Keefe’s just to see him, flooding into his mind. But he answers as smoothly as possible, still turned away from Derek as he elaborates.

“Oh, I felt a bit sick. I think it’s going back and forth from the more arid parts of the country that did it. Did you know, travelling between warmer and colder climates makes you more susceptible to contracting viruses because it strains your immune and musculoskeletal systems, causing the feedback loop of homeostasis to-” Derek puts a hand on his arm, and Spencer quiets.

“Okay, okay, pretty boy, I get it.”

With that, he walks off, and Spencer is left at the kitchenette, stirring his coffee, confused. It’s not like it was a lie, he was feeling a bit nauseous in the bar, so you insisted that you go home. He recovered that same night over a cup of tea, Metropolis on the television, and you cuddled up on the couch next to him.

When he walks back to his desk, mug in hand, he calls out to JJ, still standing by Elle’s desk.

“JJ, no cases today? …JJ?” The blonde is looking at him, but his words seem to fly right over her head, until Elle pokes her shoulder.

“Oh! No, the cases I’m being called about are still pending, we’re probably not leaving on anything until tomorrow.” Spencer smiles softly, glad to have at least one more night sleeping at home this week. Because of his reverie, he doesn’t notice the way JJ, Penelope and Elle are staring at him, befuddled expressions on their faces.

The day continues to be a little weird, much to Spencer’s chagrin. Around 1pm, Gideon emerges from his office again. This, already, is out of the blue. Gideon only leaves his office an average of 3.78 times a day, mainly to go to Hotch’s office, or to go home. This time, however, Gideon marches to Spencer’s desk.

Gideon comes to a stop next to Spencer’s desk chair, and it’s all he can do to muster a blank face and look into his mentor’s eyes.

“Hey, Gideon. What’s… What’s going on?”

The older man sighs wearily, looking down his nose at Spencer, looking uncannily like Spencer’s highschool Calculus teacher when she got irritated at him for being a ‘13 year old know-it-all’.

“Reid. You weren’t sick on Friday, were you?” What is happening? Spencer doesn’t lie, he’s never told Gideon something untrue, so this is incredibly out of the blue.

“Huh? No, what’s wrong? I felt nauseous, which could’ve been a symptom for an inner ear problem, inflammatory bowel disease, gastroenteritis…” Spencer continues to rattle off a list of things he could have had, not noticing the uncharacteristically soft, paternal gaze that Gideon has trained on him.

“...and even a brain tumour, but it was probably because I drank more than I usually do. Why do you think that’s not true?” Spencer finishes his little speech, looking up at Gideon with a confused expression. There’s nothing else the older man can do but sigh, patting his shoulder softly.

“Okay, Reid. Glad you’re feeling better now.” With that, the experienced profiler walks away, not bothering to reply to Spencer’s continued questioning:

“Gideon! What’s wrong? Why are you-” Gideon’s office door slams shut.

Unfortunately, Spencer cannot ignore the rest of the signs, spending the rest of the day in a state of coiled anxiety. Something is going on, but he can’t get anyone to tell him.

Derek and Elle are constantly glancing over at him, unreadable expressions on their faces. Penelope keeps finding excuses to go to Spencer’s desk, and even if Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he’d be able to see the words bubbling up in her throat, but she never says anything.

JJ doesn’t come talk to him at all, which is strange. Instead, she shoots him knowing looks whenever she’s in the bullpen, sending Spencer into a spiral every time she doesn’t say anything about why they’re all acting weird.

He’s even caught Hotch and Gideon peeking through the blinds over their office windows to look at Spencer, with the analytical looks they get when they’re observing a crime scene on their faces. It’s driving Spencer crazy, and he has to tell someone.

You’re leaving your desk at the university when your phone buzzes.

SPENCE <3: Hi. I looked normal when I left the house, right?

Your brow furrows at the text. Normally Spencer isn’t a fan of texting while he’s at work, and you’d told him multiple times how handsome he looked when he left the apartment this morning. He’s wearing his striped white button down and the purple tie you bought him for his birthday last year, he looks pretty. And you made sure to tell him so.

YOU: hi <3

YOU: no spence you look pretty i told you this morning didnt i?

SPENCE <3: You did, thank you. Everyone’s acting weird at work, and I can’t think of what it could be.

YOU: maybe its something with a case?

SPENCE <3: They would tell me if it was that, right?

YOU: ur right

YOU: if you cant think of it with that big beautiful brain its probably something to do with them

There’s a solid minute of silence before he texts you back, and you grin to yourself as you walk through the halls. You can see the flush growing over his face in your mind’s eye, the way he does every time you pay him a cheesy compliment.

SPENCE <3: I guess so. They won’t tell me anything about it, which is strange.

You frown a little, imagining his frustration at being out of the loop. Spencer has expressed his love for his coworkers to you many times, but he’s also told you about his struggles feeling like the ‘baby’ of the office, and the way it makes him feel isolated at times. Racking your brain to think of a way to cheer him up, you check the time on your watch (the twin of which is settled on Spencer’s wrist).

YOU: its nearly 6

YOU: if i leave my building now i can make it to your office in 30mins

YOU: i can pick you up and we could get thai for dinner

YOU: ?

The reply is instantaneous, and you smile, looking forward to seeing him earlier than you’d expected today.

SPENCE <3: That sounds great. I’m finishing up here but text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll come down.

SPENCE <3: I need to go, I’ve been texting you from the bathroom.

SPENCE <3: See you soon :-)

The last half hour of Spencer’s workday flies by, unlike the way the clock had crawled previously. He finishes up the consults he was working on for the day, and begins packing up the moment the clock hits 18:27.

Derek and Elle are still sneaking glances at him, but Spencer couldn’t care less at this point. As he closes the flap of his satchel, his phone buzzes in his breast pocket. He can’t help but whip out his phone immediately, missing the bewildered looks that pass between his fellow profilers as he smiles down at the screen.

Y/N L/N: in the lobby now! i forgot how fancy it is here i feel underdressed

He doesn’t bother replying, instead opting to leave the bullpen through the glass doors, nodding at Derek and Elle, and pressing the elevator button immediately. He’s so engrossed in his thoughts as he stares at the closed doors, that he realises far too late what’s happening behind him.

He can hear the sounds of shuffling feet, a squeak of surprise (Penelope), hissed insult (Elle to Derek), and a firm clearing of a throat. Hotch. After sighing petulantly, Spencer turns on his heels to find the entire BAU team standing there, faces just as confusing as they’ve been all day.

“I’d ask you what’s wrong, but none of you gave me an answer the last 23 times I asked, so.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Hotch, of all people, says, “Reid, we need to… ask you something. About last Friday.” That’s strange. Spencer cocks his head in confusion.

“What about it? I already told Morgan and Gideon, I was feeling sick, but it turns out it was just that I’d just drank more than I was used to.”

Penelope looks like she’s about to burst, and finally, she blurts it out, voice slightly shrill. “Reid! Who is she?”

“Who is who?”

Derek butts in, a hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Kid, that girl. The girl you were… close to, on Friday. At the bar?” Oh. That’s what they’re talking about?

“That was Y/N. My girlfriend. Are you mad I didn’t introduce you guys? I thought you were all busy.”

Spencer sees six sets of jaws drop. There’s more silence, before JJ croaks out, “Girlfriend?”

It’s a bit of a sight, to be honest. Penelope has clutched on to Derek, and Derek on to Elle. JJ is gobsmacked, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even Hotch and Gideon look the most shocked Spencer has ever seen them. But why?

“Uh, yeah. She came to see me because we’d had plans before we decided to go out. Then when she found out I felt sick we went home.”

Gideon looks a little green, and when no one makes a sound, Hotch speaks, his normally stoic voice coming out a little shaky. “Reid, we didn't- We didn’t know you were seeing anybody.”

What? Now they’re being even weirder. Spencer can hear the elevator doors open behind him, but he doesn’t bother. This is something he has to get to the bottom of.

“How did you not know? I’m sure I’ve mentioned having plans with her multiple times. Elle, I told you about the time I went to the movies in New York with her, when we were on that case.” Elle looks more shocked, if that’s possible, but doesn’t say a word.

“Garcia, I asked you to help me find florists that have Gibraltar campions in Vegas that one time.” Penelope jolts, muttering under her breath about ‘idiot geniuses and their mothers’.

“Gideon, I asked you for advice on how to ask her out!” Gideon stiffens, remembering the time Spencer had asked him about his ex-wife. Was that Spencer asking for advice?

“I ran into you, JJ and Morgan, when I was with her, don’t you remember? She was in the aisle over” Derek distinctly remembers a time at the bookstore, they’d seen Spencer, but not noticed anyone with him. JJ shamefully recalls being too busy making fun of Spencer’s heart-studded tie to look around.

“Hotch, I told you about her! When I added her to my emergency contacts?” At this, Hotch pales. A year ago, Spencer had come to him with a request to change his 1st emergency contact from his mother to a Y/N L/N. How he never registered that this was a girlfriend, Hotch would never know, but he stares fixedly at his shoes as he contemplates quitting his job as a profiler.

Spencer looks at them, mystified. How did they not know? It’s not like he was ever hiding you! Of course, Spencer wanted to keep you to himself, so he didn’t talk about you that much, but they were profilers. He assumed they’d known, and just didn't want to embarrass him.

His phone buzzes twice, and he pulls it out to see another text from you.

Y/N L/N: spence are you coming

Y/N L/N: a guy in a suit is eyeing me weird he knows i dont belong come save me

A happy sigh leaves him, before he remembers the people standing in front of him, still gobsmacked. He scrubs a hand down his face wearily, and mutters slowly, as if he’s not sure if he wants to do this.

“She’s downstairs right now, we were going to take the metro home together. Do you… Do you guys want to meet her?” Penelope brightens up, and the rest of the team seem in higher spirits, despite their continued disappointment in themselves. Warily, Spencer opens the elevator door with a press of a button, and they all file in obediently.

“Please don’t be weird.”

“My good doctor, I would never!” He eyes Garcia with a fearful expression, but presses the ground floor button anyway. As the doors close, a strangled shout leaves JJ’s mouth.

“Wait, you live together?”

You are sitting on a bench inside the FBI Headquarters. No matter how many times you drop Spencer off or pick him up, this will always be surreal to you. And, right now, it’s not just surreal, it’s a little scary.

A real Danny Ocean type guy is sitting on a bench across the room, talking on the phone and eyeing you. Clearly, you don’t exactly look like an agent, you know that. Dressed in the uniform of a PhD student, jeans and an oversized Doctor Who t-shirt (Spencer’s), you know that you look out of place.

You’re just hoping Spencer walks out of the elevator before you get escorted out on suspicions that you’re a spy or something.

Like some deity has heard your words, you look up at the ding of the elevator to see Spencer… and a whole gaggle of people behind him, slapping at his shoulders and barraging him with questions. He looks harried, a line between his pretty eyes.

The line disappears, though, when he locks eyes with you. His eyes light up, and his steps grow in length, before he's left his entourage behind, at least for a couple of seconds.

He uses this time to explain to you: “Hi hello I'm so glad you're here and I need to tell you something-” As if on instinct, your hands come up to rest on his upper arms, thumbs moving in circles soothingly as he continues to ramble.

“-and well, they didn't know about you somehow? Which is crazy to me because you know I don't hide you so I don't know where they got that from but either way they were acting crazy, so I suggested they come meet you, and…” The group of people you now recognize to be the BAU have caught up to him, eyes darting between your face and Spencer's. His shoulders slump, and the agitated look returns, if a little less intense.

“Well, here they are.” He motions to the group behind him. “These are my coworkers, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenaway, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, and Derek Morgan. Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Rising on your toes to see over his shoulder, you wave with a smile, eyes zeroing in on Penelope Garcia, who looks like she's vibrating from excitement, shouldering past Spencer to hold both of your hands.

“Hi! It's so good to meet you! I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but you know that's a lie, we didn't realize you existed until 10 minutes ago, but oh my god! You're here! You're so pretty- Spencer, she's so pretty!” She's practically bouncing up and down, causing Spencer to laugh sheepishly.

“Yeah, Garcia, I know that.” The next few minutes are a barrage of introductions and handshakes, all so brief that you can only get quick first impressions of them all.

Penelope is incredibly kind, not letting go of your hands until Spencer pries her off of you, telling you that you have to come out on girl's night with us, exactly like Spencer described her.

Elle is nearly intimidatingly cool, giving you a handshake and a smile, mentioning that she likes your eyeliner.

Aaron (Hotch? You're not sure how to refer to him) is nowhere near as stoic and intimidating as Spencer makes him out to be, breaking into a smile as he introduces himself, and grinning even wider when you congratulate him and his wife on their newborn child.

JJ is the sweetest. You've heard a lot about Spencer's best friend, and she lives up to expectations, squeezing you into a chaste hug with warm words.

Gideon is a little terrifying. He gives you a handshake, quirking the side of his lips in what you assume to be a smile, but saying very little beyond an introduction. You know how highly Spencer thinks of him, and hope he will warm up to you (Spencer is over the moon that he smiled, and tells you Gideon loved you later that night).

Derek is exactly how you expected him to be. Somehow, he makes you feel wholly comfortable after a single comment, and promises to regale you with all the Spencer stories you'd want (you see him punch Spencer in the arm, grinning and saying he approved).

Spencer pulls you away from them as quick as he can, citing your dinner plans as an excuse. He slings an arm around your waist, leading you out the door as you wave over your shoulder.

“It was great to meet you guys! We should go out to dinner or something!” You hear mixed shouts of agreement from behind you, before the doors shut and it's just you and Spencer, on the sidewalk outside the building.

It's butterfly-inducing, the way you can see the tension leave his shoulders when he turns to look down at you, brown eyes shining.

“I'm sorry that was so last-minute, I know they can be… a lot.” You giggle at the weariness in his tone, resting your forearms on his shoulders.

“They were really nice, Spence. I'm glad to finally meet them. They didn't know who I was?” He sighs, hands tightening slightly on your waist.

“I don't know what goes on with them half the time. I've told them things about you so many times, but they were just being dense, I suppose. They saw us on Friday, at ‘O Keefe’s, and they had no idea I was seeing someone!” He bends to rest his forehead in the crook of your neck with a sigh. As if on instinct, your hands come up to play with his hair.

“I guess they would have found it a little strange that you acted like nothing had changed, huh? Is that why they were being weird today?” He grumbles unintelligible words into your skin, before raising his head to look at you.

“I guess… You know I wasn't hiding you, right? I really thought they knew about you,” The earnestness on his face makes you want to implode, his thumbs rubbing minutely on your waist. Speaking would pop the bubble you've found yourselves in, so you find the best next option for you to show him your assertion.

Your hands roam up his neck to cup either side of his jaw, and slow, slow, slowly, you rise to your toes and kiss him.

Suddenly, Spencer's not worried anymore.

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE

ROUND 1

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 2.

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about you: You want to fuck your roommate's boyfriend, Minho. (9k words)

Author's note: It's a quick one-shot I made like a year ago but pls enjoy it nonetheless 😊

Content warning: Infidelity.

This is how you play two truths and a lie. You share three statements about you, two being true and one false, and people must determine which is which.

-

So here goes the first statement: You want to fuck your roommate's boyfriend.

A few months ago, you came to the city for your new job and were placed in a housing with a group of unbearable people. Since you've just started working, you tried looking at another option to get a temporary place to stay until you're financially stable enough to rent an apartment.

Long story short, a friend of a friend introduced you to Kim who happened to have an extra room you can rent. She owns the apartment and does not necessarily need the money, she offered her room for the sole reason which is to help you. You're aware that you don't meet this kind of that is to help you. You're aware that you don't meet this kind of person every day and for that, you're grateful for her.

After a week of living as roommates, you learn that Kim is just as graceful as her occupation, a ballet dancer. She's beautiful, kind-hearted, amicable, and ultimately, a very attentive roommate.

The room you're staying in was supposedly her private dance studio but she uses the living room to practice now and you have to adjust yourself to the huge mirror covering one side of the wall in your room.

Not long after that, Minho comes into the picture. A sharp nose, sharp jaws, and feline eyes, a beautiful face that only reminds you that the world is unfair to some people, including you.

"This is Minho," Kim introduces him with a smile

The second your eyes lock in a gaze with him, you feel an instant attraction and it intensifies as he stares back into your eyes.

"My boyfriend," Kim adds a little too late.

It's funny that the word boyfriend doesn't stop you from being attracted to him, if anything, you want him more than before.

Kim and Minho have been together for two years now and they met at the dance academy which explains a lot of things, including Minho's lean and toned body.

How do you know? Because sometimes he stays over and on more than one occasion, you found him walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a white towel hanging lowly around his waist.

That's also when you learn that this attraction is strictly physical, your uterus is acting up when you see him, and lewd thoughts rush through your head. It's all biological. There's no way you want to pursue him romantically, you couldn't even think of a person more deserving to be with him than Kim. They're both beautiful and talented dancers, oftentimes, you get so envious because they have such a lovely relationship.

Like tonight, you hear their laughter the second you step into the apartment, finding Kim and Minho in the kitchen just casually talking to each other while sharing a bowl of fruits. You love how simple yet endearing their interaction is.

"Hey, you're home!" Kim says with a sweet, welcoming smile.

You wave your hand at her and briefly at Minho, "Hi, everyone!" You awkwardly say, feeling like you're interrupting them.

"Have you had dinner?" Kim asks, attentive as always.

"Yeah, I grabbed dinner after work," you lie, but you can always creep your way to the fridge late at night for dinner.

"There's a pie in the fridge. Help yourself to some dessert," she sweetly offers then shoves a piece of blueberry into her mouth.

Without having to look, you can see how Minho looks at you, he has this deep, intense gaze that makes you the slightest bit intimidated.

"I will, thanks," you hurriedly respond, wanting the interaction to end as soon as possible, "I'll just... get into my room."

"Yeah, you should rest," Kim softly mutters.

You hoist your bag higher on your shoulder and head to your room, before you get in, you mutter to them, "Night, guys."

"Night," Kim cheerily says.

You hurriedly get in and catch a glimpse of Minho with his intense stare a second before the door completely closes and clicks in place.

The trick to surviving the night is to wait until they get into the bedroom and put headphones on as you come out of yours, not only to avoid hearing unwanted noises, but you reckon it's only right to take the extra measure to respect their privacy.

As you're listening and catching glimpses of the movie playing on your phone, you walk around the kitchen to prepare your simple, unhealthy dinner: a cup of noodles and a can of soda.

You're quietly eating your dinner by the kitchen counter with the headphones still on and once you finished, you treat yourself to a slice of pie, then put the rest of the pie back into the fridge.

It gets messy as you're munching on the pie while watching the movie on your phone. The cherry filling gets all over your fingers and you hurriedly lick it off before it gets—

"Oh, my God!" You shriek in surprise, seeing someone standing by the fridge. Once you realize it's Minho, you break into laughter.

"I'm just getting a bottle of water," he says, his face illuminated by the glow of the fridge lights.

"I'm sorry," you say while clutching your chest, and a second later, regret for saying it when he should be the one apologizing.

There's something different in the way Minho looks at you, he has one corner of his mouth raised higher than the other, giving you the impression that he's thinking of filthy things when he looks at you like that. He's giving you that look now and it does certain things to you.

He then stops leaning against the fridge, taking the bottle of water as he walks back to the bedroom, leaving his signature faint smirk on the back of your head.

The signals are there, they're subtle yet constantly pinging, asking you to respond. For now, you're going to ignore it like you always do and continue existing like you're not sharing the same space with him.

-

Statement number two: You believe Minho wants to fuck you too.

At first, you thought you imagined it, you want to fuck him so you started being delusional and thinking that he wants to fuck you too. Once you started paying attention though, you realized that what he's been doing to you meant something or some sort of message he tried to deliver.

The first occurrence that came to your realization is when the two of you were in the kitchen, you were enjoying your yoghurt and he suddenly came behind you to get something from the drawer that happened to be blocked by your body. Instead of telling you to step aside, he made you stand there as his hand curved around your waist to get something out of a drawer.

From there, you noticed a lot of things he did, the way he briefly rested his hand on the small of your back as he walked past behind you, his hand that would often brush a part of your body when the two of you are next to each other or the way he would speak close to your ear as if he's seeking to be close to you. Simply put, he always tries to make physical contact with you.

The scariest part of it is not the possibility that the two of you will eventually get caught, but how unfazed he is even when his girlfriend is there. Like that night where the three of you shared the sofa and somehow, his hand found your shoulder and instead of retreating, he continued to caress the nape of your neck with his knuckle.

However, what happens tonight is what makes you believe that he wants the same thing.

After making sure that you're the only one still awake in the vicinity, you make your way to the bathroom to take a nice, hot shower to help you relax and sleep faster. You skip on using the hairdryer since it'll make too much noise and tiptoe your way back to your bedroom.

In the middle of putting on your clothes, you realize that you left the door ajar and you notice Minho is watching through the reflection in the mirror.

Instead of stopping or rushing to close the door, you pretend to not see him there and continue, turning your body to the side, showcasing every curve of your body through the reflection in the mirror.

You arch your back as you put on the night dress over your head and slowly slip yourself in it, shimmying your body as you pull the dress down with your hands. Then you look at him through the reflection in the mirror and make it known that you're aware of his presence.

From the crooked grin on his face, you can tell that Minho is pleased to be caught watching you and you received his signal loud and clear: He wants to fuck you too.

But sadly, tonight's show is over so you walk to the door and close it.

-

Friday afternoon, Kim barges into your room and she rarely comes into your room without knocking on your door. Seeing that she's carrying a dress in her hand, you guess she needs your opinions on her clothing choices.

You sit on the bed and take your headphones off, "What's up, Kim?"

She stands at the end of the bed and lifts the dress with both hands, "What do you think?" She asks.

It's a mini dress with spaghetti straps in a deep purple color and it's a nice dress, you're just not sure if it fits Kim's style that well, she usually opts for dresses with flaring hem and floral prints.

"It's nice, Kim," you say but skip on giving her the detailed explanation.

She puts the dress close to her body and hugs it, "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," you shortly reply, even though it doesn't fit her style well, it certainly will look good on her.

"Good!" She shortly says, handing the dress to you, "Cause you'll be wearing it.

Somehow, you reach for it and awkwardly hold it in front of you, "W-why? Why me?"

Kim goes to your vanity table and flips open your jewelry box, she holds your earrings one by one to find ones that would match the dress.

"You're coming with me to this party," she says, leaving a lot of details in her answer.

"What party?"

"Party at my friend's," she simply answers, deciding on the gold small hoop earrings.

But that's against your plan, you want to steer clear of Minho and party at Kim's friend means that he'd likely be there too.

"Kim, I don't think that's a good idea," you tell her.

She then leans against the desk in your room and crosses her arm together in front of her, "These past few days you refused to hang out with me so you have to hang out with me tonight."

So Kim knows that you've been purposely avoiding her but you need to explain that it's not because of her, "But that's not—"

"Nuh-uh!" She quickly cuts you off again, "Tonight you're going to the party with me," she decides on her own, not accepting any more excuses from you.

"Is it okay though? I mean... it's your friend's party. I don't want to intrude," you meekly say while playing with the strap of the dress.

"Why would it not be okay?" She says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, "Besides I want to introduce you to Gaspard."

Maybe you owe this one to Kim and hearing a guy's name piques your interest, "And who is Gaspard?"

"A cute guy," she shortly answers with a sly grin on her heart-shaped face, "And you'll like him."

It's not like Minho's presence would bother you that much and Kim needs you, she wants you there, therefore, as a good roommate, you should be there.

"Yeah, okay, I'm in the mood to meet a cute guy tonight," you tell her, not forgetting to show enthusiasm as well.

"That's the spirit!" Kim says with a wide grin dancing on her face.

Well, since you'll be there and possibly meet Minho, Gaspard better be a cute distraction for real.

-

The taxi pulls up in front of a house and you reckon it's where the party at from how many cars are parked outside and the faint thumping of the music playing inside.

The fact that you get here by taxi only means that there's no Minho so you can relax, for now.

Kim excitedly links her arm with you as you both walk into the house and you expect a party with laid-back music and endless glasses of wine but the second you step inside, upbeat music is blasting from around the house and everyone is having beers from red plastic cups.

The party is not what you imagined it would be, but it's what you need.

Kim cranes her neck to find her friends and once she finds them, she raises her hand to signal her arrival to them.

"Come on! Let's meet my friends!" She says.

Please, God, let him be a cute distraction! You repeatedly mutter in your heart as she drags you with her to meet her friends who are gathered in what you guess is a rec room in the house.

When Kim's friends finally come to sight, you put on a smile as you quietly guess which one of them is Gaspard. Kim goes to hug them one by one before introducing you to them.

"This is Ellie, Jena, Paul..." she introduces her friends back to you one by as the mentioned person warmly greets you.

"And Minho," someone adds from behind you.

You immediately look over your shoulder to see Minho standing there, Kim gently slaps his shoulder in response and laughs.

"This is not a roll call, honey," Kim says with a smile and then leans in to give Minho a quick peck on the lips.

Minho is already here and there's no Gaspard yet. No Gaspard means there'll be no distraction. You keep your smile on even though you're slowly descending into distress.

"There he is!" Kim exclaims, pointing at something behind you.

You reflexively turn on your heels and see a tall man with brown hair, striking green eyes, and a scintillating smile. This man will make the perfect distraction.

Please let this man be Gaspard, you deeply wish inside your heart.

Kim comes to your side and puts her arm around you, "This is the man I told you about," she says.

"I hope you only told her nice things about me," Gaspard says with a sly grin that makes his whole face light up.

The universe heard your plea and decided to make it true for you, this is Gaspard, the perfect distraction you want and need.

"Holyfuck..." you lowly mutter in disbelief.

"What's that?" Kim asks, hearing you saying something but doesn't quite catch it.

You've already forgotten where you are and what you're doing. And Minho? Who is Minho? You let out a chuckle and shake these silly thoughts away.

"So this is Gaspard, huh?" You say in all confidence.

"That is me," he answers, returning the confidence with a wide smile, "I'm better than you expected, I guess?"

Gaspard is confident and then gets shy in the next minute which you find charming, you smile at him and say, "I need more time to decide on that."

"That's fair," Gaspard says, offering his hand at you.

You think he's just going to shake your hand but he takes you into the crowd gathered in the middle of the room, dancing.

"A fair warning, I'm a bad dancer," you warn him as he takes your hands in his and makes you stand facing him.

"We still have time to decide on that," he pokes fun at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you close to his front.

Kim is right, Gaspard is cute and you like him already. He has just the right amount of facial hair and it grazes your cheek whenever he leans in to whisper into your ear, giving you a tingling feeling inside and outside.

After a few moments though, you find yourself panting from dancing with him. You should've known this would happen when you're dancing with a real dancer.

Since Gaspard is way taller than you, you have to put your arm around his shoulder and stand on your tiptoe to whisper to his ear, "Hey, how about we get drinks?"

"Drinks?" He asks you in confirmation since the mix of loud music and chatter is filling the room.

"Yeah," you answer while repeatedly nodding your head.

He doesn't say anything but takes your hand and leads the way through the crowd to the kitchen where bottles of liquor are strewn around on the kitchen island.

You intently watch as Gaspard is excitingly making you his special concoction. He finishes it off with a spritz of lemon before handing it to you.

"Thank you," you mutter in gratitude.

"Come on. Taste it!" He encourages you, curious of what you think of his drink-mixing skill.

Well, you've been staring at it long enough to give him the impression that you hesitate to drink it. You hurriedly take a small sip and you don't even have to lie, it's good.

"Wow!" You gasp, impressed with the drink he made.

"I know," he confidently says with a smirk and drinks his drink.

It's so refreshing and sweet like it has no alcohol at all, you hurriedly take another sip.

"It's really good," you tell him.

"Thank you," he says with a grin.

He then offers his hand at you, "Let's find somewhere to talk?"

You take his hand without question, letting him take you wherever he wants because it seems like he knows where he's going. He leads you to the backyard where everyone is hanging out by the pool.

"Hey, you!"

Recognizing the voice, your head snaps toward the source, and see Kim waving her hand at you from the long sofa that curved around a fancy fireplace.

You stop walking on your track and end up leading Gaspard there. You unconsciously let out a sigh of relief after seeing that there's no Minho there.

"Oh, hey," you greet back.

Kim scoots to the side to make space for you on the sofa, "Where have you guys been?"

"Oh, we were just dancing and he made me a drink," you honestly answer, not forgetting to show her the drink in your hand.

"And where were you going to take her, Gaspard?" Kim asks with eyes squinted at him.

"Anywhere but here," he jokingly answers.

"Well, since you guys just got here, it's your turn to play!" Someone says, you can't remember what her name is but she's one of the friends Kim introduced earlier.

"Turn to play? What?" You ask in confusion.

"Two truths and a lie," someone says.

You feel bad for not being able to remember their names, Gaspard's influence is that powerful on you.

"You know how to play, right?" Kim asks.

It's not about whether you know how to play or not, it's just so unexpected that these talented, gorgeous dancers like to play this kind of game at parties.

"Yes, I do," you answer.

Kim turns on the sofa to face you and looks at you in anticipation, "Okay then. Shoot!"

"Right now?"

"Yes," Kim shortly answers with a chuckle.

You admire their eagerness whether for the game or to know something about you, you rake your brain to think of three things about you and one of them should be a lie that would likely fool them good.

"Okay first is uhm... I'm allergic to cats," you share.

There's no response from them but you can see how they're looking at you and probably every detailed facial expression you make that will give away hints about whether you're lying or not.

"Second thing is my mom has a twin," you confidently share with a faint smile.

"Ah," Kim lowly gasps and you guess because you've shared this information with her before.

"Last thing is..." you look around as you think of the last thing to share with them.

You eventually turn to the side and see Gaspard smiling at you, "I think Gaspard is cute," you share the third thing about you.

"That's the one! That's the lie!" Someone excitedly guesses, and you suddenly remember his name as Paul.

You laugh because Gaspard looks so offended by his friend, "No, it's not a lie," you quickly defend him.

Gaspard shoots him a glare and triumphantly laughs, "Just drink, man!"

Paul drinks his beer in defeat.

"I must say the second one is the lie," the girl says again, still can't remember her name though.

"No. Her mom has a fraternal twin," Kim says, learning that information from you on the first day you moved into her apartment.

"Drink up, Jena!" Kim tells her that she guessed wrong and not wasting time but drinks her beer as a punishment.

"Oh, so you're not allergic to cats?" Gaspard asks.

"No, I'm not. I like cats," you answer.

He then sighs in relief, "That's great because I have a cat."

"Oh, wow?!" You utter in disbelief.

Other than being a great distraction, you share a lot in common with Gaspard and that says something.

"I also have cats," someone adds, joining in on the circle.

You can tell by the voice that it's the man you've been trying to avoid seeing tonight. You remain calm and have a sip of your drink.

"Yes, Minho, we all know you're a cat daddy," Jena says, finally knowing her name from Kim.

Kim groans and tosses a cushion at Jena, "Don't say that!"

Minho takes a gulp of Kim's drink and sits with his back reclined and his legs spread open, even his sitting position oozing with confidence and you eat that shit up.

You feel like slapping your face at that thought and have another sip to swallow that thought down.

"Is it my turn to play?" Minho asks around.

Jena shrugs since no one is taking the turn to play, "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Minho softly scratches his chin before speaking, "I want to kiss someone tonight."

He starts easy but from the faint smirk on his face, you can tell he's brewing something in his mind.

"That someone is not my girlfriend," he calmly says.

Welp, there you go! Minho acts like he didn't just drop a shocking statement while his girlfriend is sitting prettily next to him.

You glance at Kim and she looks calm, but you can see that her jaws are slightly clenched. She's not happy so Minho should stop it.

But instead of calming his girlfriend, Minho looks at you and continues to share the third statement, "The person I want to kiss is one of you."

Your heart skips a beat because he keeps looking right at you and making it obvious for everyone to see who it is. All of a sudden, you feel the urge to exit this scene but walking out only makes it even more obvious.

Minho is sick of doing this to you and Kim, it's like he doesn't even care what it can do to either you or Kim.

"Oh, Minho, that's..." Paul hisses, not able to finish his sentence.

"Why, Paul?" Minho daringly asks him.

"Nothing," Paul says while scratching his head.

Minho leans forward and says, "It's you, Paul. It's you who I want to kiss."

Paul's tense face melts in a second and everyone bursts out laughing, "Fuck you, man!"

"It's you. I want to kiss you," Minho taunts him more, throwing himself at him and jokingly tries to kiss him.

Paul keeps pushing him away, sloshing his drink as he tries to dodge Minho's kiss while everyone else is laughing at them.

Even though it turns out to be a joke, you feel sick in the stomach and feel the need to get out of here.

"I need to go to the restroom," you mutter, getting up from the sofa.

Gaspard puts down his drink, "I can show you—"

"It's okay. I can go by myself," you tell him off, you regret being so crass but you're sure he'll understand.

"Okay," he says, sitting back down on the sofa.

While clutching the hem of your dress, you head back inside the house and find the bathroom to only queue to get inside, you decide to try on the second floor. You can easily find the bathroom as it's wedged between two bedrooms.

It's a party, you're sure the host would be okay with you using their bathroom, you don't even need to pee or something, you just need a space to vent.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you keep muttering to the reflection in the mirror.

When you touch your neck, you can feel a sheen of sweat there so you run your hands under the cold water and tap it to your neck.

This is the first time you realize what it'll do to you when it comes to following your desire. You'll ruin not only their relationship but also your friendship with Kim and she's been nothing but good to you.

"Fuck!" You mutter once again as you splash cold water on your face like it would help to put some sense into you.

Coming here was a bad idea!

But you're already here so you only need to stick to your plan, staying away from Minho and sticking with Gaspard. You allow yourself to spend a few more minutes just to compose yourself before coming out of the bathroom.

As you're about to climb down the stairs, the plan comes to a failure.

You see Minho is coming up the stairs and he seems to be looking for you as well from the way he stops once he finds you.

Instead of avoiding him as you planned, you feel the need to confront him about what happened a while ago. You grab the front of his shirt and take him into one of the bedrooms. The first one is locked so you try the other one and it's empty.

Once both of you are inside, you slam the door shut and push him against it.

"What the hell are you doing?" You aggressively ask, pushing his chest until his back hits the door.

"What? What am I doing?" He plays innocent but that smirk knows it all.

You slap his chest with both of your hands now but all you can feel is how firm his pecs are.

"You just don't care, do you?"

He puts his hands on each side of your waist and draws you closer, not hesitating to plant his mouth on your jaw.

"Minho!" You whine, ending up getting trapped in his hold with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

He glides his lips up and presses a kiss there on the skin under your ear, sending a tingling down your spine as his warm breath brushes your skin.

You helplessly dodge away from his lips yet somehow, he manages to capture your lips in a kiss and oh, you hate it so much! You hate how you like the way he kisses you, so passionately and hungrily, he makes it known that he wants it so much.

Okay, maybe the kiss is a slip-up and you hurriedly pull yourself out of it. You push him and pull away from the kiss.

"You know we can't do this," you mutter but you're looking at his lips, tempted to kiss him again.

He ignores your words and kisses you again, and you fall into it again. You try harder this time and break the kiss.

"Minho!" You whine, looking away to not let the temptation win again.

Using it as an opportunity, Minho plants his mouth on your ear and nibbles on it, peeling a layer off of your sanity which brings you to slip down the slope again.

Your lips are colliding again, harder and deeper, causing even more damage than the previous one as his hands go all over you and pull the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

The two logics in your head are clashing against each other, the one wants to satisfy this desire and the other wants to get out of this situation altogether. If you follow the former then at least, your curiosity will be fulfilled and if you follow the latter, then you get to keep the peace.

As you are caught in that inner battle, you blank out and stiffen against him.

"We have to stop," you mutter to him.

But is that what you want? To stop when you already have your toes dipped in the water?

Minho also takes a moment to assess the situation, he looks at you with his lips red and wet, "it has to stop," he says in agreement.

You take a step back and feel the sudden detachment as he lets go of you and you can't believe that he agrees right away that this is the better decision. You can't help but think that he doesn't want you enough.

He stays standing there, leaning against the door and looking at you with his eyes dark and wide with lust.

"So what do we do now?"

That's such a wrong thing to ask you because what you want to do now is be selfish for the night, for one fucking night, and if you're going to do it, you may as well go all in, right?

Take the chance or pass? Right or wrong? Continue or stop? Now or never?

"Fuck!" you heavily sigh and take down the straps of your dress, sending your breasts spilling out of the front.

"Suck my tits," you order.

It takes Minho a moment to process it and when he finally catches on that you've made up your mind, he goes for it. He comes at you full speed, hands off the brake and head first.

His mouth lathers at your breasts before sucking at them like you asked, taking them in turns, and leaving them wet with his saliva.

"Nibble on my nipples," you command.

You look down to watch him obeying you, using his tongue to nibble on your blossoming buds and alternating it with his teeth next.

"Oh, fuck," you breathlessly mutter as he sucks hard on your nipple.

While his mouth is busy latching on your breasts, his hands are snaking to the back and kneading at your asscheeks, caressing them with his fingers, and teasing your underwear.

This feels so wrong yet so good, you have your inner battle still but your logic is being defeated by your body's needs. You pull him by the shoulder and make him kiss you again so you'll stop thinking.

The rattles on the door startle you both and Minho immediately pushes the door with his back, then holds the knob to not let anyone in. Whoever tries to get it seems to figure out that the room is occupied.

"Sorry," someone says from behind the door.

Minho immediately locks the door while you take a step back from him, he gives you that look again, the kind of look that sees right through you and knows that you feel conflicted inside.

"Kim is my good friend," you tell him, feeling a pang of sadness in your chest that it aches.

He comes at you again and kisses you in which you're returning with the same eagerness. He seems to know that it's the only way to make you stop talking and thinking altogether. He pulls you closer than before his hands snaking to your rear, cupping the ample flesh in his hand.

"This is terrible," you mutter as you break the kiss so you can take your underwear off.

"This is terrible..." you mutter again, pulling him close by the waistband of his jeans and proceeding to unzip his fly open, "Betraying her like this."

It's like your body has a mind of its own, it's doing the opposite of what you're saying.

You impatiently take his semi-hard out of its confine and stroke it in your hand, "terrible," you emphasize the word and nail it deep into your head.

Minho doesn't say anything but follows what your body wants, he kisses you again, sloppily with his hands mindlessly roaming around your body.

"Touch me there," you whisper into him.

Without looking, his hand knows where to go. It goes to where you want him to be, going to the front to that wetness between your legs.

"Put your fingers in."

Minho runs his fingers down your slit repeatedly before inserting his finger into you. One digit is enough to make you moan in pleasure as he pumps it in and out of you.

"Add one more."

He draws his finger out and brings his index and middle fingers, shoving them into your mouth to wet them with your saliva. He brings them back to your entrance and slowly pushes them inside.

"Fuck, oh..." you moan, burying your head in his neck.

Two fingers are going in and out of you and you're already losing it. You start to think of what his cock would be like inside you as it feels hot and hard in your hand, pulsating with so much desire.

His lips nestle in your neck, kissing and lightly sucking on the skin as your body clings to him for support.

"Curl them— Oh!"

Minho knows what to do, he curls his fingers and carefully finds that spot that makes you whine and moan at the same time, and the lewd noise echoes in the dimly lit room.

You look over your shoulder to locate the bed and start steering his body there, walking backward without having to take hands off of each other.

He slowly pulls out and breaks the kiss only to pull your dress up, making the dress hunched around your waist. You plop down onto the bed and get on, you take a moment to continue undoing his jeans and pull it down enough to let his erection free.

Without thinking, you put his cock into your mouth, take him as much as you can and compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand. You lick and suck, alternating those two as you enjoy every inch of his delicious length with your mouth.

Minho tangles his hand in your hair and gently tugs at it, "I feel so guilty," he says.

Oh, so he's not that selfish after all but the thought of him thinking of his girlfriend with his cock deep in your mouth doesn't make you jealous at all, it makes you feel more aroused than before.

"Oh, so guilty," he says between his hoarse, low moans as he stares back into your eyes.

You slowly pull away and replace your mouth with your hand, restlessly pumping his swollen cock.

"You should be," you tell him, sticking your tongue out of your mouth and swirling it around the pink tip of his cock.

All of a sudden, he grabs your hand and takes it away from his length, he then takes your other hand to pin it against the bed. He hovers above you as he kisses you again, his tongue prying open your mouth to taste more of you.

You can feel him rubbing his length between your folds and you spread your legs open so he can do it more, making you drenched than you already are.

It's obvious to you now that you want him, you want him so bad and what you want is only inches away from you, and you can feel how much he wants you.

"Put it in," you breathlessly say against his lips.

Minho wastes no time to position himself between your legs. He then holds his cock, lubricating it with your essence and giving it a few pumps to finally aims it toward your entrance.

The more time he takes to be inside you, the more impatient you get.

"Put it deep inside me," you demand, opening your legs wider for him.

Yet Minho keeps teasing your entrance, heightening your anticipation and the tension in the room, making you arching your back at him.

When he finally pushes in, he only inserts the tip. It's just the tip but Gosh! It feels good already when he starts thrusting at a slow, steady pace.

"That's it," you say, keeping your waist afloat to take more of him, "all the way in."

Minho is just as impatient. He takes your wish as his command and pushes the rest of his length into you, hitting you deep inside that you blank out and you can't hear your own scream of pleasure.

It only registered to you now that it's all real once you take a look at how his cock is fully buried deep inside you and there's nothing like the feeling of finally having your desire fulfilled. Minho feels so good inside you, every inch of his length fills you perfectly like he was made just for you.

"Oh..." you loudly moan as he starts moving.

You're in and out of you at how hard he's thrusting into you that it reverberates throughout your body and in the middle of it, you manage to look at him, his face is masked with pleasure from the way his eyes are half shut and his lips pressed together.

Maybe the two of you want it so much that the sex feels rushed and a little rough, almost animalistic even. You can feel you're about to cum and so is he.

"Don't cum inside," you warn him before bringing his head close for a sloppy kiss on his lips.

In return, Minho goes sloppy with his thrusts that the bed quakes along with his movements and you're gripping the sheet to hold on to. He's twitching inside you and your legs are shaking. The knot in your stomach keeps tightening and you feel like exploding at any minute now.

He incessantly thrusts into you while you keep gripping the sheet, he probably senses that you're on the brink of climaxing and takes you there, sending you into your release with your eyes screwed shut, seeing white. He cums not long after you and keeps himself deep into you, completely forgetting your warning.

When it occurs to you that he completely forgot about your warning, you slowly push him away and force him to pull out of you.

"I told you not to cum inside," you whine.

Minho's eyes fixated on the way his cum drips out of you, pearly white and glistening wet, inviting him to taste. He finds a way to solve it by settling his head between your legs and licking your mixed juices off of your cunt and not hesitating to swallow it. He sucks on your gushing hole before using his tongue to insert it, he makes sure to not leave any drop of his cum in you.

Watching him eating you and swallowing his own cum is getting you off in the best way, you suddenly don't mind it that much that he cum inside you. If anything, you want him to fill you so you get to watch him do it all over again.

"Stop, Minho! Stop!" You tell him, tugging at his hair to stop him from diving further into your wetness.

He abruptly stops and lifts his head with his mouth and chin glistening wet with your essence. You grab him by the front of his shirt and make him hover above you again. You know you already got what you want and it's time to stop.

What are you going to do now? You ask yourself.

Seize the chance. This is probably the last time you ever had this chance and this could be the one and only chance. You roll him over and straddle him, thinking of having him again for the last time, selfishly.

Taking a moment for this could be the only chance you get to do it, you look at him and his beautiful face, and you allow yourself to kiss his lips. You're running your hands down his clothed chest and patiently unbuttoning his shirt, then part it open to reveal his toned upper half body.

It's only fair if you get to touch him all over too so you do it, using your hands and your lips next, it's just you and miles and miles of his warm, honey skin.

Minho lets you do everything as he lays on his back, watches you kissing every inch of his abdomen, and eventually has him in your mouth again. He props his hands against the bed to see how your lips wrapped around his cock.

After a while, you suddenly pull out and gasp for air, "We have to stop."

He sits up on the bed and puts your hair away from your face, "But I don't want to stop," he says, then continues putting your hair away to the back so he can kiss your neck, chest, and breasts.

They're just words, they've been just words that you say in vain and have no effect to make you stop whatsoever. You only say that just to remind you that this feels so wrong but it feels good to do it.

You sit on his lap and position his cock at your entrance again, slowly, you lower yourself on him. You let out a mewl as you take him in little by little, feeling his girth stretching you out.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks you with his hands cradling your head in between.

"We have to," you sigh with your eyes closed, overwhelmed by his cock that buries deep inside you.

"I don't want to," he breathlessly says, holding you by the waist, guiding you to start moving.

Putting your arms around his shoulders for support, you're switching between pulsating and rolling your hips around him as he latches his lips on your neck and chest.

Somehow, he feels bigger and harder inside you, and he fills you better, therefore, you just want to keep feeling his length around you. However, in the middle of it, your logic fights to come out of you.

"This is wrong," you breathlessly mutter.

"Mmh-hmm," he hums against your lips, mindlessly answering to you.

"This is so wrong, Minho," you say again as you keep moving to chase your high.

If this is wrong then why it feels so good? If this is wrong then you never want to be right. If this is wrong then you want to be a sinner, forever.

"Oh, I can't do this anymore," you cry, it's unclear whether it's the body or your conscience speaking.

"Keep going, keep going," he repeatedly mutters through his gritted teeth, watching you bouncing on his cock.

The sex is more intense and harder than the previous one, you keep holding your breath even though you're running out of air. Your nails dug into his skin, your mouth locked with his lips, and you feel a sheen of sweat forming on your skin.

It all comes down to the one moment when everything hits you all at once. Other than the wave of dopamine and oxytocin that surge through your body, you feel good, you feel light and happy, but underneath that, you feel that bitter feeling, guilt that is gnawing and eating you alive from the inside.

You open your eyes and find Minho looking at you with a soft gaze and it feels tender that you feel like crying, or you're about to as you feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

"Oh, God! What have I done?" You roughly brush the hair stuck to your moist forehead.

"It's okay," Minho says, trying to justify this act of betrayal.

"Oh, my God!" You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to stop you from crying.

Minho gently holds your chin and softly presses a kiss on your lips as if he's trying to take the pain away but that's useless because you caused this yourself and he's a part of the problem.

But his kiss no longer holds the same effect, you feel restless the more he kisses you so you slowly pull away and keep a safe space between you and him.

"Let's just stop," you say with a sigh and then rush to get off his lap. You lowly gasp from the sudden emptiness and once your feet touch the floor, you're staggering backward.

Then, you feel it, his hot cum that drips out of you and down your inner thigh.

"I can help you with that," Minho offers.

You immediately hold your hand up at him and firmly say, "Just stop!"

You start fixing your dress, putting your arm in the straps, and pulling them to your shoulders. You look around for your underwear and once you find it, you put it on.

"Kim can't know about this," you meekly say as you pull the hem of your dress and smooth them down.

There's no looking back at it now. You've got what you wanted and now it's time to move on. You turn the door knob and head out without saying anything else.

Rejoining the party downstairs, you immediately head to the kitchen to get a drink but on the way there, someone catches you by the hand.

"Come, dance with me!" Kim says with a grin, pulling you with her to the middle of the room.

"Kim, I–" you can't find anything to say to her without the guilt clogging your throat, "I need a drink."

"Here. Have mine!" She hands you her cup.

"I'll get us drinks and get back to you, okay?" You kindly refuse her but she won't let go of your hand.

"Oh, come on, it's my favorite song!" She pleads with her puppy eyes, making you feel worse than you already are.

Seeing her and how oblivious she is to what you and Minho have done is breaking your heart.

That brings you to the third and last statement: That will be the first and the last time you've had sex with Minho.

-

Things are going back to normal. Or that's what it seems to you.

You're still roommates with Kim and she's still oblivious about what you and Minho did behind her back which means he keeps true to his promise.

And yes, he still comes to the apartment but it doesn't bother you as it used to. You learn that your friendship with Kim is far more valuable than his boyfriend's cock, in fact, you've been taking her kindness for granted.

So for these past few days, you've been trying to avoid them as much as possible. You purposely come home late from work and if you do find them together in the apartment, you make excuses to stay in your bedroom.

Fewer interactions means fewer chances of this guilt from bringing you down further.

The new plan is to get your own place as soon as possible and for that to happen, you have to start looking for it.

Today, Gaspard offers to help you check a few places and it's also the perfect getaway than staying in the apartment. You quietly get dressed and slip out of your bedroom to find Kim catches you while dunking her teabag into her cup.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

You don't want to tell her about it yet that you plan on moving out soon so you make up an excuse on the spot, "Just getting a few things for work, yeah," you lie.

She tosses the teabag into the trash and uses a spoon to stir it, "Just getting a few things for work, huh?"

"Yeah, I need new work shoes," you lie again, seamlessly this time.

"And you think you don't need my help?"

"No, no," you hastily reply, "I just know how much you like staying in on the weekends."

"I would to go out on the weekend too."

Kim keeps misunderstanding you so you decide to tell her, "I'm going out with Gaspard," you admit, but keep the details from her.

Kim lets out a laugh and puts down her cup of tea, "Oh, my God! Why did you lie about it?"

"I don't know. It feels weird," you awkwardly answer.

"Why would it be weird? Cause he's my friend?"

"Yeah..." you meekly say.

She laughs again and comes up to you, "Why would it be weird that my roommate is going out with my good friend?"

That's true, this is nothing compared to fucking your roommate's boyfriend. You swallow the guilt that crawls out of your throat.

"I can lend you my shoes to match it with that cute dress?" She offers, kind as always.

"No, it's fine. It's comfortable this way," you say, opting for the sneakers you're wearing since you're going to do a lot of walking today.

"As long as you're comfortable," she says, fixing your hair as she speaks.

The front door opens and the two of you are turning your heads to see who's coming, it's none other than Minho. You hurriedly sling your purse around your shoulder and ready to leave.

"I'd better get going," you tell Kim, giving her a quick hug.

"You can come home as late as you want," she jokingly says as she hugs you back, "Actually, don't bother coming home tonight."

You laugh it off and pull away while ignoring Minho who walks to the kitchen to get something out of the fridge. You head for the door and wave bye at Kim before getting out.

-

The search for a new place comes to fruition, you have two potential living spaces but the only problem is you can't afford the rent, yet.

You end the day with a hearty dinner also as a treat for Gaspard for being so helpful and patient with you. He's simply a great guy to be with and you wonder why didn't you want to fuck him instead of Minho.

Oh fuck, you think about Minho again and it reminds you that he's in the apartment now so you stay out as late as you can. You consider Gaspard's offer to come and visit his place but you don't want to give him the impression that this is a date.

It's too casual to be counted as a date in the first place but you make sure to promise him a proper one next time.

"Maybe next time when I'm not sweaty and the day is not as humid as today," you kindly refuse the offer.

"I agree," he says as his hair turns a lot curler in this humidity and shyly brushes it to the back.

He walks you to the entrance of your apartment building and you turn on your feet to face him, "Thank you for today," you sincerely say.

"No worries. I had fun today," he coyly says with a smile.

You know he wants to kiss you and you want to kiss him too because he's just so attractive and fun to be with, he's a great guy... you can list so many reasons why you should kiss him so you muster up the courage to do it.

You stand on your tiptoe and press a kiss on his lips, putting your hand on his shoulder for support and Gaspard returns the kiss with so much gentleness with his hand cupping your jaw.

In the middle of it, you come to a realization that you kiss him for so many reasons but not because you like him. You slowly pull away from the kiss and quickly put on a smile for him.

"Goodnight, Gaspard," you mutter.

He allows himself to place a gentle caress on your cheek and smiles back at you as he says back, "Goodnight!"

The walk back to the apartment feels like a punishment. At least, it's late enough that you're sure Kim is already asleep by now so you quietly unlock the door, pushing it open without making any noise, and walk through the living room until you get to the safety of your room.

You kick your shoes off, throw your purse onto the bed, and take off your jacket, just standing there in your dress facing the huge mirror with your reflection staring back at you.

"Do you need help with that?" Minho asks through the cracks of your door.

You hate it that he's still here and you're happy to see him, you're not answering but he comes to your aid anyway. He stands right behind you and slowly unzips your dress for you.

It must be intentional the way his knuckles graze your skin as he pulls the zipper down your back.

The memories from that night come back to you and unlock all the feelings that you try to keep at the bottom of your heart.

Minho then places his hand on your shoulder and looks at you through the mirror, "Do you need help with anything else?" He asks with a voice so low it's almost like a whisper.

You turn your head to the side and meet his gaze, "No."

All sorts of thoughts come rushing through your head but it's the same contradicting questions: Take the chance or pass? Right or wrong? Continue or stop? Now or never?

Those questions going around your head and won't stop bothering you until you make up your mind.

You turn around to face him and notice how close he's standing in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat his body is emitting.

"But I'll help myself," you say and then kiss him.

Well, you guess people can tell which one is the lie now.

-

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[sharkikive]

Ken Sato with a supermodel!reader pls pls pls

Like they're dating in secret but accidentally reveals their situation and their fans go wild

OMG sure! Sorry this took time for me to write and I really do hope you'll like it <3

runway to your heart (ken sato x supermodel!fem!reader)

Summary: A baseball player and a supermodel, both celebrities in their respective fields. A relationship that had to be kept under wraps.

It was supposed to be a secret... until it wasn't.

Word count: 6,913

CW: Fluff, slightly suggestive (he def talks you through it), Ken Sato being the boyfriend of the year

A/N: I tried my best in writing this because I am not familiar with both fields (baseball and modelling) so here you go! This was purely out of my own imagination and is very, very self-indulgent because damn, who wouldn't want Ken Sato in their life? Rich, soft spoken, a good father, and the list goes on. Hope you enjoy this one just like how I kicked my feet every single time Ken becomes THE boyfriend.

***

Cheers erupted throughout the whole stadium and through the speakers, mixing in with the noise in the dressing room.

Hair rollers tucked in, brush with powder dancing across your face, and a neutral expression to let the makeup artist do his magic. Your eyes dutifully closed as the artist worked on your eyelids, but your ears got sharper to hear the conversations around you.

You knew who the main topic in the room would be, and that was the man that had just scored another point in the game on screen.

“Oh God,” you heard one of your model colleagues groan. “Ken Sato is too attractive. Look at that smile, that body-” she stopped talking and addressed you next. “Y/N, isn’t Ken Sato so handsome? Imagine being his girlfriend. That would be a-ma-zing.”

Your eyes were still closed and you hummed an immediate reply. “He’s okay. I’ve seen better and-” You opened your eyes when the makeup artist told you that he’s done with your eyes. “He seems like a cocky bastard.”

Your colleague, Hina, gave an exaggerated gasp as she heard your reply. “You did not just say that about Ken Sato. If he isn’t your type, I wouldn’t know who else would be able to satisfy you. He is the most sought-after man.”

You shrugged. “You never know. Maybe I like a single dad who has to raise a kid on his own, with him himself having daddy issues.”

Hina narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously, before prancing over and stared at you. “You know that whatever you described was very specific? Y/N,” she said, almost quietly, “are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah, I’m seeing you, Hina.”

She clicked her tongue. “You know, you always answer so smartly. One day, Y/N, I will discover your secret!”

You chuckled, watching as Hina got dragged by the stylist, prepping her to get her up to the runway. Your turn was still a long way to go, so you were left with your hair held up by rollers, while your eyes caught a notification on your phone. You read the notification and smiled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression.

The message read: It’s another win for us tonight, baby. Can’t wait to see you after this. Good luck for your show today, and break a leg. I know you’ll do great.

You typed in a reply, quickly snapping a picture of your prepped face and sending it over to the recipient. You weren’t even able to put down your phone when the next reply came in the next second.

You swore, this person could make you smile without even knowing, which could be a very risky thing considering the nature of both of your relationship.

Looking gorgeous as always, baby. The text message read. I really am the luckiest man to have you.

You put down your phone as your name was called over; your turn was approaching fast. You were practically floating around from one point to another, having different hands adding last-minute touch ups.

The line was moving fast before it was your turn, and you could see that every one of the models who finished their turn returned with a grim look on their faces backstage. You looked at the small entrance, and when you spotted Hina, you quickly signaled for her to come over.

“Was the runway condition that bad?” you whispered to her, whose hair was going in different directions at once.

“They said they wanted to simulate an ‘extreme condition’ on the runway, right?” She did quotation marks.

You nodded, agreeing to her. “Yeah.” You inched up the line. “The theme for today’s show is extreme weather.”

Hina exhaled slowly as she attempted to fix her hair. “All I can say is that they managed to replicate it well.” She shook her head. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”

You turned your head back to the front, your turn coming closer as the models in front of you went out to continue the show. It was a rapid show, where you finally had your turn right after Hina disappeared behind a row of clothes.

You understood what Hina meant as soon as one foot was out from behind the scenes. The runway was boxed within a transparent glass, protecting the simulation from the audience.

From years of experience, you put on your best face before walking down the runway, doing your best in showing off the collection.

You were sure they were trying to imitate a blizzard, but the worst they could offer to models wearing heavy dresses and high heels. You saw the model in front of you fall first, the strong winds knocking her back before as she couldn’t fight it back.

One rule on the runway: you keep on walking, no matter the condition. Walk over your fellow models, maintain your expression and show off what you have. It’s an unapologetic world out here.

But that’s exactly the reason why you’re known as the rule breaker around here.

While maintaining your face, you did a show of reaching out to the fallen model, helping her up to let her continue, but you figured this time around, being a rule breaker did have its consequences.

You knew the fallen model; she considered herself as your rival, always trying to one up you in every single aspect. Every, single, aspect including boasting about having a ‘sweetheart’ while you don’t.

Your rival, Mei, quickly took this as a chance to get back at you and embarrass you in front of the audience. She accepted your hand at first, but you realised that she was pulling you down instead of pushing herself up. Not enough with it, she added an extra push, disguised under the pretext of accepting your help to get up.

You were thrown to the side, and coupled with the condition on the runway, you almost tumbled off the path. Luckily, you managed to break the fall but as you landed sideways, you could feel the bruise forming near your right ankle. You cursed silently as you saw Mei picking herself back up and smirking in a split second before strutting away, leaving you stranded.

You knew no one was going to help you up as long as the show was on, so you braced yourself while continuing. Throughout the whole show, you managed to finish without breaking rhythm. You didn’t let the pain hinder you, although all you wished to do was to be lying down, giving your body a much needed rest.

Backstage after the end of the show, your manager, a sweet woman in her 40s, quickly rushed to you. A single mother of 2, Ms. Tornado as you’d like to call her, as she always seemed like she was caught up in something chaotic. She fussed over you, but you quickly brushed her away.

”Ms. Tor,” you cooed, hiding the pain with a calm demeanour, “I’m done for the day. Let’s go back.”

On the way out, you gave a signal of reassurance towards Hina, who looked worried while her right fingers were tapping on her left knuckles. You saw Mei smirking at you, offering no words to you. You gave her no satisfaction of seeing you in pain as you smiled back.

You knew that everyone had seen you fall on the runway, but that didn’t disturb you.

Your phone pinged with a notification. As you read the message in the car, you turned to Ms. Tornado on the driver’s seat. She understood your signal.

”Usual place?” she asked.

Unable to hide your excitement, you quickly nodded.

No further questions asked as she drove towards the city border, bringing you to one special spot you had practically owned with that one person. In fact, you’re sure that he had bought ownership over the whole area. Your smile grew wider as you spotted the person waiting on a camping chair with an empty one next to it, a campfire lit up.

You sneaked up from behind, forgetting the pain in your legs as you broke into a run, almost causing the person to tumble forward as you hugged him from behind.

”Kenji!” You exclaimed, your character a total 180 degrees from whatever you put on when you were ‘the supermodel who revived the fashion scene’.

With him, you allowed yourself to be comfortable; no pretense of having to check your posture, controlling your expressions or giving off a cold demeanour. With him, you were just Y/N, the girl who preferred to be nested in your home, finishing your time up by watching your same favourite shows over and over again.

Kind of ironic how you considered yourself an introvert yet landed a job that essentially thrusted you into the spotlight.

Kenji exclaimed your name back in the same energy you gave him, hugging your arms as he planted a kiss on the back of your hand. He stood up and dear God, you love this man so much. One of your features that contributed to your modelling career was your height, but you loved the fact that even then, he towered over you.

Ken Sato, the name that had revived Japan’s baseball team, who had acquired a celebrity status after essentially becoming the saviour.

Ken Sato, the man who had kept the audience on the edge of their seats as he scored yet another point in the game.

Ken Sato, the one man who had essentially saved your life while unironically revealing his one kept secret to you.

And Ken Sato, your boyfriend.

Though both of your relationships had to be kept under the radar due to your statuses, you were content with what you’re having now.

Who cares if people think you’re too ‘cold’ and that’s why no one wants you? A small smile played on your lips as you thought, Well, Ken Sato does.

How both of you met was bizarre, to say the least. You were out eating dinner alone, under the disguise that you always wore when you’re just a ‘normal’ citizen, when the ground shook. You were sure that there was a monster attack somewhere, but you were calmly eating dinner when the restaurant’s roof got lifted up.

Ultraman’s giant figure was punching the monster, and you were left gaping at the sudden loss of roof above your head. You quickly finished up your dinner, and when you were about to walk back to your condo, you saw the one thing that you were sure you shouldn’t.

You saw Ultraman shifting back into a human-sized figure and lo and behold, it was Ken Sato. Before, you never bothered to dig deeper into his life because you figured out that you would never be affiliated with the baseball scene. You knew he was famous and that was it.

You couldn’t believe your eyes so you gasped, but your hand wasn’t quick enough to muffle the sound until he turned back to look at you. Both were stone statues for a good minute before he finally spoke up at that time, “Um… can you keep… uh the… secret?”

You sure as hell did keep the secret that even after a drunken stupor, a one night stand then turned into a secret relationship with him, it was still safe with you.

You were so comfortable with him up to the point that it was nice to be yourself with him.

”What’s wrong, baby?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you back to the present. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “You’re thinking of something?”

You shook your head, tightening your grip around his waist. “Nah,” you mumbled. “Just thinking about the time we first met.”

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair. “I’m sure you did great in your show just now, hmm?”

You stayed quiet, debating or not whether you’d like to tell him what actually happened. He most likely hadn’t seen the show yet, but sooner or later he’d find out. It’s just a matter of now or later.

You were in your comfortable clothes; baggy t-shirt with cargo pants and hair tucked underneath a beanie. In public, people would usually leave you alone when you’re in this attire. Today though, the long pants were also an attempt for you to cover up the growing bruise.

You decided to keep quiet about the bruise, figuring later that he would find out and by then, you hoped it wouldn’t look as bad as it was now. You detached yourself from his hug, careful to not make it so obvious that you were limping. You took a seat, beckoning for him to come over.

Ken traced you with his eyes, lips locked before he smiled. He passed by his seat but didn’t settle down. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the sand, facing you. He leaned forward, crossing his arms with each other on your legs and rested his chin on top. He looked up at you, that same boyish smile he had whenever he was with you.

You looked at him, uttering, “Looks like my boyfriend won yet another game today.” You patted his cheeks, and he quickly grabbed your hands to hold them.

”It was the team, really,” he said humbly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I was just one of the players.”

”Whatever you say, Mr.-eligible-bachelor-with-thousands-of-adoring-fans-waiting-to-be-picked.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled. “Little do they know,” he drew circles on your palm, “that I’m no longer available.”

He stared at you as you looked into the distance, the crashing of the waves filling in the silence between both of you. He stood up, cocking his head towards the shoreline. “Wanna go for a walk?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the trouble you had with your feet coming once again. You didn’t get a chance to answer as he knelt in front of you with his back towards you.

He gently pulled you on his back, your legs dangling on either side of his body as he piggybacked you. “Okay, let’s go for a walk,” he said, firmly placing his hands under your thighs.

You said nothing, circling your arms around his shoulders, your face buried at the nape of his neck. You loved the fact that you’re always calm around him, something that you’d always need after spending hours in a fast-paced environment for work every day.

As you walked along the shoreline, both of you pointed out stars shaped like objects, and he stopped at one point when you suddenly said, “I love you so much, do you know that?”

He laughed. “What’s with the sudden confession? I love you too, baby.” He gave your thigh a light slap. “And I’m glad to call you mine.”

”It’s time to go back, isn’t it?” You asked, hoping the answer would be no but knew the world would have to end for it to be.

He threw back his head to get a look of your face before uttering, “Sorry. I have a game tomorrow.”

You pouted slightly but knew that the circumstances wouldn’t change. Whether you’d like it or not, even though you didn’t mind your relationship was playing this way, both of you had your individual lives that didn’t intersect with each other.

Dates would always be a secret with limited areas you could go to, and you had to make sure you’re not seen within the vicinity of each other. If both of you needed to go to each other’s house, it felt more like you’re on an undercover mission.

Today, though, with you still on his back, he held onto you firmly and made his way back to his bike parked nearby some bushes.

”Kenji-“ you started, figuring that maybe he forgot that both of you were supposed to follow separate ways.

”Tell Ms. Tornado you’re staying at my house tonight,” he uttered, placing you on his bike’s seat, taking a helmet and helping you to put it on. “You’re sleeping at my house today.” He checked his watch. “I know that you don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, right?”

You shook your head slowly, secretly happy that he actually kept track of your schedule. Your eyes searched for his from behind the visor, and you blinked slowly as he tapped your helmet.

“Stay at my house until you’re fully healed. Mina can take care of you.” He’s referring to the supercomputer his parents had programmed. He wore his helmet and leaned forward. If not for both of your helmets in place, he’d be resting his forehead against yours. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue staying until…” he winked, “whenever.”

He positioned himself in front of you, powering up his bike. You leaned forward, circling your arms around his waist.

Before your voice got swallowed by the roar of his bike, you said, “You knew I was hurt.”

Underneath his helmet he smiled. “I always do, baby. Always.”

***

One of the reasons you didn’t want to stay at his house for too long was because you knew you’d be too comfortable. It seemed that after the fiasco you ran into with Mei, Ms. Tornado told you that she was suspended from any work and your agency gave you time off.

So here you were, warm mug of coffee in hand, cross-legged on Ken’s sofa while wearing one of his hoodies. So far from your side, your manager was the only person who’d known about your secret relationship with the baseball player. You’re grateful that your agency was not the type to pry into your private life, so long it didn’t affect your work.

You made yourself right at home at Ken’s house. You could say that you became best friends with Mina, with her occasionally sharing stories about how Ken was when growing up and you helping her around the house.

You sunk in the plush sofa, watching a live show of another one of Ken’s games. You saw him turn to the camera, winked and did a secret sign that was directed at you. Seeing how he’s so expressive, you wondered whether Ken actually wanted your relationship to be public.

Even then, you wondered whether anyone actually noticed that Ken started doing the same pose to the camera whenever he scored a point, after he got into the relationship with you. Maybe the secrecy of your relationship was just held back by a single click to post on the Net.

As far as you knew, only five were aware of this relationship; both of you, your manager, Mina and Kenji’s father.

Rather than your own reputation, you’re worried more for Ken’s image. He just moved here from America, carrying the expectations of everyone who had set their eyes upon him. He rose to fame real quick, while you’d already established your foundation right in your hometown as you were raised through a family generation of models.

Night was approaching, and you did catch a message from Ken updating you that he would be joining the group dinner to celebrate their win first. He promised to come back as soon as the dinner was finished. While waiting for him, you caught Mina’s red bar from the corner of your eyes and you smiled at her.

“Y/N, Ken had actually asked me to ask you one important question.”

“Sure, what is it, Mina?”

Immediately, Mina displayed a projection showing a website of a furniture store. She changed the page to the ‘bed frames’ category.

“I was told that the bed broke last night. Ken told me this morning to ask you which ones would you prefer,” Mina said without any hint of emotion. “He didn’t want to disturb you while you’re sleeping this morning.” After remembering another point she added, “He said make sure to pick the strong ones.”

You, on the other hand, were already burying your face in your hand as your cheeks reddened. “Oh my God,” you groaned. He could go one day, one day, without making you blush. It didn’t help that Mina was delivering the message so robotically. Well, she was one, but you get the point. “Mina, can we talk about this… some other time? Don’t worry,” you pressed your lips into a thin line as you remembered how exactly the bed broke last night. “I’ll tell Ken that you delivered the message well.”

Mina backed up, doing her gesture akin to a nod. “Sure, Y/N.”

You turned your head towards the front door when you heard the door opening, and you stalked your way to your boyfriend, who was holding his jacket in his left hand. Your face fell when you saw that he was wincing, the skin near his eye bruised and his right hand gently pressing over the injury.

“What happened to you?” You fussed over him, requesting Mina to take a bucket of ice and a cloth. “Who did this?”

He winced once again, but grinned soon after. He threw his jacket on the sofa and grabbed your waist, kissing you, hard. It was like he was releasing whatever pent up frustrations he had the whole day, drunk in your kiss that you felt out of breath as soon as he let go.

You saw Mina hovering nearby, clearly not wanting to disturb both of you. You cleared your throat and Ken ran a hand through his hair.

Mina set down the requested bowl of ice and cloth, but Ken shook his head.

Ken uttered, “Mina, can you please bring a bucket of ice to the bathroom? I’d like to soak myself in the tub.”

“Sure, Ken.”

“Ken, you need to tell me what happened to you. You’re injured, for God’s sake!” Your eyebrows knitted in worry, but your boyfriend was displaying the opposite as he was happily dragging you along to the bathroom.

He only gave you a peck on your forehead as Mina helped to prepare the bath.

You wouldn’t let your eyes off his injuries, assessing how badly he was hurt. As Mina excused herself to leave both of you in the bathroom alone, he stripped and stepped into the tub. The water sloshed around as he settled down, and you gritted your teeth as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He lifted up his eyebrows, clearly teasing you. “Care to join me?”

You sighed, clearly dissatisfied at how he’s acting while not disclosing about what had happened to him until he returned with a black eye. You crossed your arms, not wanting to submit to his pleading eyes, not until he told you what happened.

Clearly, you were not strong against this man because now both of you were stark naked in the cold water, Ken hugging you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Now tell me what happened.”

Ken obliged. “So we went for a celebratory dinner at this one grilled meat restaurant.” He buried his face at the nape of your neck. “There was this one group of guys who clearly were too drunk. One of them,” you felt his arms tightening around your waist. “Was making inappropriate comments about your body. My girlfriend. Of course I got pissed and punched him. It was an easy fight, but I was unlucky to get this one hit. I won, of course.”

The knot in your stomach got undone, that heavy feeling finally lifting off as you laughed, relieved. You leaned backwards, muttering, “Oh, Kenji. My idiot Kenji. I really thought you had an encounter with a hater, someone that wasn’t afraid to punch you in public just because they hate you. I was so worried. But didn’t your teammates suspect anything? For you to react that way when they’re talking about me.”

“Even if they do find out, it doesn’t matter. Anyone who speaks like that about you deserves to be punched, baby.” The water sloshed around as he turned you around so that both of you were facing each other. He rubbed a thumb over your lips, his mouth lifting at the corners. “And guess what?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I got a personal invitation from one of the biggest sports brands here. They’re inviting me for an official photo shoot for their new attire collection.”

“That’s amazing, Kenji!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“And you know what’s the best part? It’ll be a duo photo shoot, a collab with one of Japan’s famous models.”

“A man?” you asked, still clueless.

“A woman.” He grinned, “With my woman.”

“Oh!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, not believing that you hadn’t caught on when your manager had told you that you would be having an upcoming photo shoot with one of the most famous athletes. No wonder Ms. Tornado looked all smiley when she was delivering the news.

“They were surprised when I agreed to it without much questions,” he said. “Said yes as soon as I heard your name.”

***

Your leg was all healed, Ken’s bruise subsided, and it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Obviously, both of you had to come from a different place and at a different time to avoid any suspicion, so the night before you had returned to your house, despite Ken showing you his puppy eyes to make you stay.

You left without looking back, having to reassure him that both of you would see each other tomorrow.

The day came. In the makeup room, both of you had your lips locked, only a slight nod of greeting when he first came in before you returned your attention back to the mirror in front.

God knew how much Ken Sato was holding back from pulling you into a hug as soon as he saw you in the room.

You saw him from the corner of your eyes, his eyes closed as he let the brushes and artist do their work. You smiled, your mind thinking about how Hina would most likely go crazy once she heard that you had landed a job with this famous baseball player. You figured that you’d let her find out by herself once the official photo shoot had come out.

In the studio, both of you exchanged a formal greeting before the photo shoot started, and you could see that Ken was trying to hide from forming a smile on his face. As the camera started clicking and poses were thrown, you could hear the photographer yelling out encouragement, including ‘Don’t be shy with each other’ and ‘Stand closer’.

You heard Ken slightly snicker, and he whispered to you subtly, his lips slightly brushing your earlobe. You shivered, and he was smart enough to not let anyone see what he was doing. “If only they know how close we are.”

“Last set!” The photographer announced. “This time around, I’d like to see some contact with each other. No looking like you’re two magnets repelling each other, but attracting each other instead.”

“Oh I can do that,” Ken said smugly as he followed the photographer’s instructions.

Funnily enough, he was the one looking like he had more experience in modelling as he followed the photographer’s instructions to a T, while you felt more like a deflated balloon guided by your boyfriend.

You promised you were a professional model, but with him, well, you faltered and posed like you’re a novice instead. Still, you managed to pull through the photo shoot as the photographer gave a thumbs up, fully satisfied with the session today.

You took some time to relax after the photo shoot alone in the dressing room. As you were leaning against the chair, your head turned to look at the door that just opened.

Ken’s head popped up through the space and he waved his hand. “Hey,” he whispered. He looked over his shoulder before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him.

“Ken Sato,” you said, more of a warning. “What if someone sees you coming in?”

“It’s fine,” he walked over to you, and lifted you up in a hug.

Naturally, your legs coiled around him as he firmly placed his arms around you.

“I wanted to say goodbye in person before I leave for my game this evening. You’ll watch the game live, right?”

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

You practically jumped away from him as a knock came on the door and panicked, you opened the closet door before shoving him inside. You shut the closet tight, catching his eyes trailing your movement through the bars before putting a finger over your lips to signal silence. Steadying your breath, you opened the door to find the photographer standing outside.

“Oh hey, uh…” you trailed off as you realised that you didn’t know the camera man’s name.

“I’m Yuichiro,” he extended his hand to offer a handshake, but you politely declined with a nod of your head. “It’s uh,” he nervously chuckled. “I thought that you looked great and I found out that we’re the same age. I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go have coffee sometime. As in, uh, I’d like to take you out sometime.”

“Oh, really?” You swore you could feel Kenji’s stare digging through the man’s skull as you stole a glance towards the closet behind you. “That’s too bad because I uh,” You silently prayed that Ken wouldn’t suddenly spring out of the closet. “I am too busy. I don’t even have time to drink coffee myself.” You gave a professional smile, hoping that the man would take the hint and walk away.

“Not even coffee?”

“Not even coffee.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t drink coffee, actually.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised. “But I thought I saw you drinking coffee this morning at the set.”

You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed. “I’m afraid you are hallucinating, my friend. I don’t drink coffee. Anyway,” you clapped your hand, “I need to get ready to go to my next destination for another photo shoot, so if you could please leave?”

He looked disappointed as he nodded. “I mean, yeah. Please go on your way. Sorry to take your time.”

You smiled politely but as soon as you closed the door and locked it, you jumped over to the closet, the door creaking as you pried it open. You saw Ken sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as his bangs curtained his eyes. You sat down in front of him, moving his bangs out of his vision.

“Kenji…?” you started, trying to gauge his emotions. 

He stayed quiet for a few moments, and you poked his stomach when it seemed like he’s not budging.

“Are you okay?”

He breathed in and out, before looking up. His eyes caught yours, but still you couldn’t read his expressions. “I experienced this new emotion,” he finally said.

You inched forward.

“You’re doing great, baby.” The compliment came out of nowhere that you were slightly taken aback.

“Kenji,” the grin on your face grew wider, “were you jealous?”

He never broke off his stare to you, and you found it so attractive. “I was.” His eyes dropped to your lips. “I was stopping myself from jumping out of the closet and announcing that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you uttered, ruffling his hair. “You better get going. You have a game to win.”

“I sure do.” He stood up and you mirrored his actions. Before he turned to leave, he kissed you on the lips and whispered again as he peppered kisses on your neck. “With this jealousy, let’s just hope the bed won’t break again tonight.”

***

Of course you lied to the photographer to politely decline his advances. Your schedule was free this evening and you had promised Ken you would see his game live. You dressed as inconspicuously as possible, donning on the merchandise jersey they sold to the public.  

Ken had offered you to wear his jersey, but that would practically mean announcing your relationship to the public. Tucking your hair under the cap, putting on fake glasses and looking at yourself in the mirror, you figured how Clark Kent had managed to turn people’s suspicions away from him being the superhero.

Now, you’re just one person among the thousands of show-goers filling up the stadium. You took up your seat, eager to witness the game Ken would be joining. Announcement blared throughout the stadium, signalling that the game was about to start. You heard your boyfriend’s name announced as he stepped onto the field.

Giants’ supporters cheered for him, and you joined in on the hype as you saw him giving his million-dollar smile to the crowd. You waited for the game to start, and truth be told, no matter how many times Ken had explained the rules of the game, anything barely stuck to your brain. Still, you tried your best to support him even though that meant cheering for him blindly whenever the others did.

The crowd went wild again as the Giants scored yet another point.

You got distracted by a notification coming to your phone. You wanted to ignore it, but as you saw Hina’s name as the sender, you had to sit down and open the message. She rarely texts you out of work, so there must have been something out of the ordinary. You felt your heart drop as you read the message, and a link towards a news website was sent together.

Your eyes caught her message first. Oh my God?! You’ve been dating Ken Sato?

You read the headline next. BREAKING NEWS: BASEBALL PLAYER KEN SATO AND SUPERMODEL Y/N IN A RELATIONSHIP?

You stood up together with the rest of the cheering crowd, but you had to wrestle your way through to make your way out of the stadium. You didn’t know what to do, Kenji was still in game and your feet almost gave way as your shaky hands opened the link to read the news.

Everything was summed up in one news article, and you felt your world getting smaller as you saw the pictures of the night Ken had piggybacked you after you hurt your leg, all obviously looking like they were taken in secret. You read through the whole article, your ears deafened by the sound of roaring cheers inside the stadium.

You were standing outside the stadium, and you looked back at the giant screen you could see displaying yet another shot of Ken doing his signature pose to the camera. You turned back to the news article in your hands, and read through the whole thing over and over again. Several lines caught your eyes, and you finally caught on who was behind this.

Photographer Yuichiro handed over the pictures of the two lovebirds having a secret date at the private beach, which was purportedly owned by Ken Sato. From the pictures taken, I’m sure everyone would come to one very obvious conclusion. The question is; do you find the relationship surprising, or are they a perfect match for each other?

You wondered if it was all planned by him; the photo shoot together with Ken. Was he testing to see whether you’d accept a date with him to assume whether you’d have a boyfriend or not?

You wanted to run away. But from what, exactly? Running away wouldn’t solve this problem.

Well, if it turned into a problem.

Cheers erupted again as you returned to the stadium, just in time to see the final score and then celebrating the Giants’ victory. Chanting swimmed through the crowd, and you gripped your phone tightly as you searched for Ken among the players.

You finally spotted him at the bench, and your mind was as equally noisy as the audience around you.

He looked in your direction, trying to search for you but before he could catch your eyes, his shoulder was tapped by a fellow teammate, showing him an article displayed on the screen.

Everything happened fast, you didn’t know that it was possible as your worst fear came to life in front of everyone. The giant screen in the stadium displayed the news article and the pictures of the both of you displayed in a slideshow. You could hear shouts of confusion and gasps among the crowd as all of them were looking at the same thing.

The noise of the crowd died down as Ken made his way to the edge of the field, where an interviewer was waiting to start the session. The topic of the interview was supposed to be about the win at first, but it had clearly turned into a different direction.

The camera focused on Ken, and you knew he was directly looking at you. He looked calm, the practised smile he had on whenever he appeared on screen.

“Ken Sato,” the interviewer started, as he looked into the camera, “The name that is no longer a stranger to every household. His return to Japan brought waves and hope to the Giants. But today,” she turned to him, “it seemed like you’re the focus on the interview for an entirely different topic. Who knew that this eligible bachelor was actually already taken? I have the man here with me, so, what would you like to say?”

The crowd was obediently silent as they waited for his answer. You felt your heart beating loud in your chest as you, too, anticipated what he would say.

For a split second your mind wondered whether he would vehemently deny the news, but you brushed that thought away. You trusted him.

“I do have a question for everyone here, first, though.” Ken swept his vision across the crowd. “Is it a sin for a celebrity, or at least someone who is quite well known by the public, I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or that I’m too full of myself thinking that I’m famous.”

There was a ripple of laughter through the whole crowd.

“Is it wrong for me to be in a relationship?”

Silence. A dread coming over you as you quietly anticipated that there might be protests coming from the crowd. No one spoke up until you heard a female shouting from the crowd, “No, it’s not a sin! Well, we would be slightly sad that our favourite bachelor is no longer available, but you’re still human!”

Your eyes travelled to the female shouting, and realised why the voice was so familiar. It was Hina. She saw you looking at her and she grinned, giving a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, random woman from the crowd,” Ken uttered. He turned back to the camera. “I think that answered the question. I’m still human,” he shrugged, his eyebrows lifting up as he announced, “and I fell in love with Y/N. We are happily in a relationship. I’m proud to say that she’s mine.” His eyes finally fall towards your direction. You could only discern his expressions and gestures from the big screen because he was too far from you. “I love you, Y/N.”

There was a momentary moment of silence that you could hear a pin dropping, and you feared that maybe, the public wouldn’t take it so nicely.

But soon, the whole stadium shook with cheers from the crowd. This time around, they were chanting both Ken's and your names.

Okay, so this was not the reaction that you had expected.

You saw Ken gesturing to you, asking to meet you privately after the game. You nodded, pointing to your phone to say that you would communicate through text.

He sent you a message for the meetup point, and you practically ran towards where he had wanted to meet you.

You saw him at the end of the empty hallway, the noise in the stadium a distant sound now that it was only the two of you. You ran into his arms and he caught you, laughing. You let your breath steady first before saying anything.

“Ken Sato… you…” you started. “You have this way of wording things. I never expected the whole crowd to just agree with you.”

“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin, and he gazed upon you. “Like I said, we’re still humans.” He kissed your lips. “And I fell in love with you.”

“Hmm…” You hummed, still feeling slightly worried.

Ken opened the article, scrolled down to the comments and showed them to you. “See, they’re all positive comments.” He cleared his throat, doing his best imitation while reading the comments. “Oh my God, they’re a perfect match for each other! I knew they were dating, it would be weird if they didn't date. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for them. Y/N, you’d be better off with me-” He stopped reading when he read one comment that irked him. “You know what, I’m going to report that last comment.”

You burst into laughter seeing how he was tapping furiously at the screen, blowing out an air of satisfaction as he finally reported the comment.

“There, problem solved,” he announced.

“You know that probably some time in the future that there will probably be people who won’t be satisfied.” You sniffed.

“Well that’s too bad.” He bumped his forehead against yours. “Because you’re already mine.”

[rafesangelita]

Rafe visiting sweetheart pogue reader after knowing her better at her little bake shop she works at and they get to talking and she confesses its her absolute dream to open and run her own bake shop and he buys her a little cute shack to start her business off !!! 💕💕

warnings: super sweet fluff, sexual tension that rafe has to force himself not to act on

a/n: this came out longer than i wanted it to, but i loveeee writing for pogue!sweetheart!reader so much, pls send reqs for her if you’d like <3

it was a rather slow day at the icecream shop, so when you heard that little ding! indicating that someone had walked in, you were more than happy to see none other than rafe. “hey!” you chirped, adjusting the pink apron that currently hugged your waist.

“are you the only one working?” he walked up to the counter, your bright smile making his heart beat wildly in his chest. “yeah..” you trailed off, looking over to your manager’s office, “maybe i could ask for a quick break so we could talk?” rafe nodded. “i’d like that.”

he waited until you disappeared before he flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and turned the small lock on the door, so you two could converse without any interruptions. “okay!” you walked back up front. “favorite flavor?” rafe’s mind went blank as you reached for something, your skirt riding up your thighs as you did so.

“uhm- uh, rocky road is good.” you finally grasped the cups you were looking for, beaming at rafe’s response. “i love that one, too! but strawberry cheesecake has been my go to for a while now.” rafe didn’t want to make it obvious that he was staring hard, but he found that it was rather difficult when you were around him.

he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone so sweet and bubbly and charming as you are, could also be so unintentionally sexy at the same time. “rafe?” you snapped him out of his trance, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “here we are.” you walked around the counter, placing the cups of icecream down on a nearby table.

you reached behind you as rafe took a seat, your nails not allowing you to untie the knot you made in the strings of your apron. “what’s wrong?” he looked up at you in confusion. “my apron is a little stuck..” you turned, backing up until you stood been his legs. “can you untie this for me please? i just got my nails done and i did it a bit too tight.”

rafe was going insane. here you were in a mini skirt, potentially giving him a full view of everything that was underneath as you coyly waited for him to ‘help you out’. “sure, yeah-” he cleared his throat, hands coming up to fiddle with the strings that stopped just above the curves of your ass.

once he had it off, you sighed, taking the seat across from him. “where are you coming from?” rafe was still flustered when you took your spoon in your mouth, his eyes following the way your lips wrapped around the damned thing. “work, actually.” he blinked away, zeroing in all his focus elsewhere.

“really? what do you do?” now it was your turn to watch him, the veins on his arms making you lick your lips. “construction. it’s my dad’s business.” you nodded, trying to push the image of rafe all hot and sweaty from working outside, out of your head. “so you’re a handy man?” you teased, unintentionally tapping your foot against his leg.

“i know my way around.” you caught rafe looking at your lips, a shy smile taking over your feautures. “i wish i had those skills, it’d make things so much easier for me.” you raised your eyebrows. “how so?” he leaned forward. “well.. it might sound dumb, but it’s my dream to open my own little bakery. the problem is; i don’t know where to start, i don’t know who i have to get in contact with for licensing and permit stuff, and i definitely don’t know how to install any kind of kitchen appliances.”

rafe thought for a moment.

“do you have a certain location in mind?” he asked. you hummed, shaking your head. “no, i don’t care where it is. i’d just like a bigger space.” rafe nodded. “that doesn’t sound dumb by the way,” you looked up, “i think it’s neat that you want to open up your own business. the entire island will be over the moon once they find out they can get those chocolate chip cookies whenever they want.”

you had never shared that information with anyone, but by the way rafe responded, you were glad it was him that you spilled it to. rafe saw the small flash of sadness pass through your eyes before you shook it off. “one day..” just as you were about to check the time, your manager walk out of her office. “closing shop early today, do you mind helping me out real quick?” without hesitation, you got up from your seat.

“wait for me?” you gave rafe your icecream and apron to go outside with.

“of course.”

-

over the next two weeks, you found yourself by rafe’s side, whether he was following you around while you made sales, or helping you bake, you two seemed to be attached at the hip. “are you working tomorrow?” rafe currently sat on the floor of your camper, leaning against the lace-trimmed cushions of your pull out couch. “nope!” you offered him a spoon of buttercream to taste test, watching as he took his digit in his mouth.

“goddamn, that’s amazing,” rafe gave you a thumbs up, “but anyways— i was asking because i have a surprise for you.” placing the bowl of frosting on the counter, you turned. “oh?” you sat down, his head resting against the side of your knee. “i think you’ll really like it.” rafe kept his eyes down in his lap. “can i guess what it is?” he shook his head, “i won’t tell you if you’re right or wrong.”

sighing in defeat, you and rafe spent the rest of the night decorating cookies and taking turns shuffling songs until he was ready to head back home. “i’ll be here to pick you up in the morning, ‘that sound okay?” he was leaning against your doorframe, your fingertips itching to reach out for him. “mhmm, thank you for all your help today..” you stepped closer, swallowing thickly as he rested a hand in the curve of your neck.

even though rafe wanted to kiss you and feel your lips on his, he settled for a peck on your temple, which you were more than happy to receive. “goodnight, y/n.” he waved before getting in his truck and driving away. locking the door shut, you couldn’t help the pout that graced your lips at your now empty, quiet, camper.

eager to know what rafe wanted to surprise you with, you were quick to get ready for bed, forcing yourself to go to sleep before having to wake up and get ready.

“promise you’re not peeking?” you giggled, your hands resting on top of rafe’s as he guided you to some unknown location. “i promise!” finally, rafe came to a stop, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of his body pressing against your backside.

“okay, go ahead and open.” you were buzzing with excitement, your mouth falling agape once your vision cleared. there, in front of you sat a perfect little shack, the word ‘sold’ on a red banner adorning the front. you blinked, slightly confused. “this is so cute! did you buy it or something?” rafe nodded, his mouth falling to your ear.

“it’s yours.”

you took a minute to process his words, letting go of a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “rafe..” he placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. “a couple weeks ago you said it was your dream to have your own bakery but you didn’t know where to start, this is your starting point.” your eyes were watering now as you looked up at the man in front of you.

“i don’t think i can accept this.” you laughed, butterflies swarming your tummy when rafe wiped your tears. “you can, and you will.” you couldn’t hold back anymore, throwing your arms around him. rafe wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest, but he knew it felt right.

“it still needs to be renovated, but i talked to my dad and he agreed cameron development will cover everything.” you pulled away, dumbfounded. “i- why?” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “why not? you deserve it.” sniffling, you looked back at the shack, already envisioning the place up and running. “i can’t thank you enough, rafe.” you couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe that rafe, let alone anyone, would do something like this for you.

“we’ll get to that later,” he winked, making you laugh, “should we go pick out a paint color?”

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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[alsofoundinpeas]

Rewind the Goodbye

Summary: One night is all it takes to unravel everything Y/N and Spencer had carefully built over the years of their relationship. But sometimes, the things we break can be mended once more.

(Basically an AU for the events of season 15 episode 6 Date Night)

Requested fic!! 🥳: Can we get a smutty Spencer Reid x reader reunion? It's them passionately coming back together after a messy breakup (JJ's confession or Cat's date night). Basically Spencer grovelling and worshipping reader. Happy/hopeful ending!

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Cat Adams (she's a warning all on her own). Really intense argument (both Spencer and Reader say some pretty mean things). Oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected PinV sex (do not actually do this k thanks!!), creampie (can we pls find another word for this pls), crying during sex (both Spencer and reader oops), groveling/begging man (Spence, I'm looking at you babe), heavy praise, multiple orgasms (f!receiving) and slight overstimulation (both parties). Angst turned happy ending!! Ex's to lovers!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: My very first request!! :') Thank you so very much to the anon who requested this <3 I hope you like it! :) I chose to go with the Cat storyline because I had to prove I am NOT a JJ hater LMAO plus I felt like it was a really interesting dynamic to play off of because I always felt it was odd how chill Max was about her family getting kidnapped and him making out with an actual psychopath in front of her (I get that Max is simply a chill girl and beyond super understanding, which we love!! I’m just saying I personally would’ve tweaked a smidge (not on him, just overall LMAO). This was as fun as it was heart-wrenching to write and I truly hope you guys enjoy it. As always, please like, reblog, and share with your friends if you enjoy it. I love you all! K <3

Y/N remembered the night everything fell apart as if it had happened only yesterday.

She'd been on edge all evening, knowing Spencer was only on the date with Cat for the sake of his job and for the sake of rescuing her father and sister. It didn't make the plan any easier to swallow. Her mind raced with worry as she paced the apartment, waiting for him to come home. All she wanted was for her family to be safe. For Spencer to be safe.

Things had been strained between them ever since Spencer got out of prison. Y/N knew he couldn't be the same person he was before. She understood that. But she hadn't expected this—his detachment, the walls he'd built between them.

He stopped talking to her, stopped sharing his thoughts, retreating inward until the pressure became too much. Then, he'd snap—lashing out in bursts of anger, throwing things, slamming doors, yanking at his hair. He never turned that anger on her directly, but it didn't matter. Seeing the man she'd once known as calm and steady unravel before her was jarring and heartbreaking, especially after years of him being the embodiment of composure.

Y/N remained patient through it all. Spencer had endured more in his short life than most could fathom. The least she could do was offer her empathy and support, no matter how much he pushed her away, reacting like a wounded animal desperate to protect itself. She was determined to do whatever it took to help mend the beautiful, fractured man she loved, even if it meant enduring a few emotional scars along the way.

Y/N never expected those emotional scars to include all of this.

She could feel her heart shattering as the door to their apartment creaked open, revealing her fiancé passionately making out with the most vile woman to walk the Earth. His hands were cradling her face, pulling her into him as Cat stared straight at her.

It was more affection than Spencer had shown her since his release, and quite frankly it didn't seem like he was putting on much of an act.

The only reason Y/N was at the apartment instead of searching for her sister was because the team had located her father—thankfully, he was safe and unharmed, aside from a few bruises—and had contacted her with a plan that Spencer wasn’t aware of. They had uncovered Cat’s hidden agenda: Juliette had been watching Spencer and had discovered the one secret he’d managed to keep from Cat—her. Now, Cat wanted to destroy his life one final time before she died.

The team anticipated that Cat would want to return to their apartment to flaunt the fact that Spencer was 'hers.' Once Cat's ego was satisfied, she'd be more likely to slip up and reveal information about her sister's whereabouts. Y/N agreed without hesitation. After all, she’d do anything to ensure the safety of the people she loved—even if it meant putting herself in an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous position with a psychopath.

JJ had coached her on how to mask her emotions in front of Cat, preparing her for the inevitable confrontation. What JJ hadn't prepared her for was watching the love of her life shove his tongue down Cat's throat like he'd never felt the touch of a woman before.

Y/N braced herself, locking eyes with Cat as she adopted a detached, nonchalant demeanor.

Internally, she felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to curl up and sob into her knees until this nightmare was over. She had already felt powerless when Spencer was wrongfully imprisoned, and now the guilt of her father and sister being taken by Cat’s former cellmate was gnawing at her from the inside out.

All of that pain and heartache for a man who clearly no longer loved her.

Y/N remained composed for the rest of the evening, leaving with Emily as soon as possible to be with her dad and sister now that it was all over. She didn’t spare Spencer a single glance on her way out, choosing to fight that battle later.

And a battle it was.

When Y/N saw her sister's tear-streaked face and her father's defeated posture despite trying to put on a brave front, she knew she needed to stay with them for a few days. She ignored all of Spencer's calls and texts, replying only with a terse I'll be home by Friday. Though she tried to rationalize it as something Spencer had done out of necessity to save her family, the image of him kissing Cat haunted her, and she couldn’t bring herself to face him right now.

As Y/N stepped into their eerily silent apartment Friday night, she immediately realized how much of a mistake ignoring Spencer had been. She quietly closed the door behind her, slipped off her shoes, and placed them on the rack. But as she turned to head toward their room, she was met with the sight of Spencer right behind her, so unexpectedly close that she yelped, her heart racing as she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus fucking Christ—"

"Why have you been ignoring me?"

Spencer’s voice was cold, his eyes filled with pain as he looked down at her. Y/N felt a rush of guilt at the expression on his face, her resolve faltering for a moment before she reminded herself why she had been avoiding him in the first place. That guilt hardened into anger, her eyes narrowing as she glared up at him.

"Why did you make out with a deranged criminal?"

Spencer stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape as confusion flickered across his face. Y/N brushed past him, heading into the kitchen. Her purse hit the counter with a loud clatter. She knew she wasn’t being fair, but the hurt and exhaustion weighed too heavily on her to care.

"Y/N, I didn’t have a choice—" Spencer protested, trailing after her with his hands raised in frustration. "I didn't know you'd be here! That was the last thing I wanted to happen, but I did it for the sake of the case."

She rolled her eyes, a bitter laugh escaping as she leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "So you can tongue-fuck her for the sake of the case... yet you won’t lift a finger to keep your fiancée?"

The words had left her mouth before she could stop them, but she meant them.

Spencer stood across the kitchen, a look of disbelief on his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why would I be losing you?"

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, casting her gaze to the floor. If there was ever a time to finally let it all out, now would be it. So, with a deep exhale, she began.

"Spencer… I’ve tried to be patient, and I’ve tried to understand, knowing what you went through was unimaginable. I'm not at all saying I expect you to be who you once were, because I know that's impossible. But most days, I feel more like your doormat than your fiancée. You only talk to me in short, half-hearted conversations, and I’m the one who usually has to start them. I feel like I have to beg for your time when you're home. We haven’t been on a date in months. You won’t even talk to me about the wedding anymore…" Y/N’s voice cracked as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I’ve tolerated all of that, and yet I’m supposed to just accept that you kissed the woman who not only destroyed your life, but mine too—taking the man I love and turning him into this… hollow version of who he used to be?"

All she wanted was for him to truly listen, to finally acknowledge how things had been between them, and to try—just try—to make an effort to fix them.

Instead, he did the opposite.

"Are you seriously playing the victim when what I did was to save your family?" Spencer snapped, disbelief in his voice. "Did you even consider for a second how traumatizing that whole night was for me? Going on a date with a woman who tried to kill my mother, who framed me for a crime I didn’t commit that left me rotting in that hellhole for months? But I’m the villain because I’m processing my own trauma, and I’m not up your ass planning a wedding I never even wanted?!"

Y/N's heart sank as his words cut through her, tears welling up in her eyes. A wedding he never wanted? The hurt and frustration she’d been suppressing for months bubbled to the surface, and she fixed him with a steely glare, her anger flaring.

"My family never would have been in that situation if you had a normal fucking job!" she shouted, her finger jabbing at him in accusation. "And as for the wedding you never wanted, fine. We won’t have one!" With a fierce motion, she ripped the ring off her finger and slammed it onto the counter before storming down the hallway toward their bedroom, tears streaming down her face.

Spencer’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as he stared at the ring on the counter, his pride battling his guilt. Despite knowing he was in the wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Y/N had been nothing but loving and devoted to him, yet something ugly inside him had taken over, and he couldn’t control it.

"That’s not what I meant," Spencer said, his voice tight as he went after her. "But if that’s how you want to spin it, fine—what are you doing?" He stopped dead in the doorway, his heart sinking as he watched Y/N hastily pack a duffle bag. What was he even doing?

"I can't do this anymore," Y/N sobbed, lifting the duffle bag onto her shoulder as she turned to face him. Her plan was to spend a night or two with her best friend to let everything die down between them so they could talk rationally.

She had only meant the fighting, but Spencer took it as the end of everything between them.

"Then leave! Since that's clearly what you want so badly," Spencer hissed, his voice sharp, though the tears welling in his eyes betrayed his anger. The last thing he wanted was for her to walk away. Why had he said that?

Y/N just shook her head, pushing past him and out of the room. She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and, with a furious shout of "Fuck you!" down the hall, slammed the front door behind her.

For the rest of the weekend, Y/N stayed with her family, retreating to her childhood bed every night where she cried herself to sleep. By Wednesday, she had found a one-bedroom apartment across town that was available to move into immediately. She checked with Emily, confirming that the team was away on a case (thankfully, Emily didn’t ask any questions). Y/N spent that week packing up her things, and moving out while Spencer was gone. On the day she left, she placed the key beside the ring on the counter, taking a final, aching glance at the symbol of everything she had once hoped for. Then, with a heavy heart, she closed the door, leaving everything she’d ever wanted behind.

Now, standing in her pajamas with her mouth slightly agape, Y/N found herself staring in disbelief at none other than Spencer Reid on her doorstep.

She blinked rapidly, ensuring she was awake and not caught in another dream. But she wasn’t dreaming. Spencer was standing before her—real, panting, and drenched. It was the first time she’d seen him since moving out three months ago, and 'exhausted' didn’t even begin to cover how he looked. Her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words.

“…How did you find out where I live?”

Spencer looked down, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "I… I asked Penelope to find your new address."

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she reached for the door to slam it in his face. The nerve of him, having his coworker practically stalk her and then showing up after breaking her heart—

"Y/N, wait—please!" Spencer called out, wedging his foot in the door as she tried to shut it. "Just hear me out. Please?"

Her shoulders slumped as she paused, torn between the urge to shut him out and the pull to let him in. After a moment, she opened the door just wide enough for him to step through. As much as it pained her to face him, her love for him—and the ache of missing him—was deeper than words could ever express.

"I'll get you a towel, and then we can sit," Y/N muttered, rushing toward the bathroom as he stood by the door, slipping off his shoes.

Her heart clenched at the sight of him when she returned, their fingers lightly brushing as she passed him the plush towel.

Spencer was soaked through from the pouring rain, shivering as the damp fabric clung to his skin. She could see the discomfort in his posture as if the wet clothes were grating against him. He reminded her of those heart-wrenching shelter dogs in commercials—lost, vulnerable, and desperately needing care. He looked so pitiful… and all she wanted was to take care of him like she used to.

“Go sit on the couch. I’ll be right back,” Y/N instructed quietly, her expression softening as his weary eyes met hers.

Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion but complied, folding the towel and sitting carefully to keep the cushions dry. Y/N disappeared down the hallway, returning shortly with a pair of pajamas in her hands. As she offered them to him, a sharp pang of jealousy shot through him. He glanced down at the men’s clothes, then looked up at her, his expression filled with quiet hurt.

"Oh, come on," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she sat beside him. "They’re yours. I… found them mixed in with my things and just kept them in my drawer."

That was a lie. She had carefully packed them, clinging to the smallest piece of him when she left. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Spencer unfolded the clothes, the knot in his chest loosening as he recognized them as his missing pajamas. The jealousy that had gripped him slowly faded, replaced by relief. "Sorry," he said softly, standing up from the couch. "Where can I… um, change into these?"

"The bathroom's down the hallway, to the left," Y/N said, gesturing vaguely toward the dark corridor.

Once Spencer was changed into the dry clothes and not trembling like a leaf, he stiffly sat beside her again. Y/N frowned, taking a moment to really look at him, and a wave of concern washed over her. His once bright, maple-syrup eyes—eyes she used to gaze into with such love—were now dull and shadowed by dark circles. His stubble had grown out, and he sat hunched, as though the weight of the world was bearing down on him.

"Spencer… what are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her words cutting through the thick silence that had settled between them.

His gaze shifted from his hands, nervously twisting in his lap, to meet her eyes. There was a quiet, desperate longing in his gaze as he studied her, almost as if he were reacquainting himself with the woman in front of him. It had only been three months since they'd separated, but even a single day apart from her felt like an eternity.

“Y/N…” Spencer’s voice faltered, his lower lip trembling as he drew in a shaky breath. “Three months ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. You tried to tell me how you were feeling, but I—” His words broke off, and he swallowed hard, eyes lowering as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

Y/N instinctively reached for his hands, unable to stop herself, her heart aching at the sight of his pain.

“I never meant a word of what I said that night. I swear I didn’t. I just— I lashed out, Y/N,” Spencer confessed, his voice breaking under the weight of his words. “I was scared. I sabotaged myself. I let the anger take over, convinced that Cat had finally won—that she’d ruined everything by taking away the one thing I couldn’t live without… you.”

Spencer’s tears flowed freely now, his face streaked with grief. He gripped her hands as though they were his last lifeline, afraid that if he loosened his hold, he'd flatline right there on her couch.

"But this is the one thing I can't blame on her… Despite everything she’s done, I was the one that pushed you away. I had convinced myself that once I came home and you learned what I had to do to survive, you’d be disgusted by me… that you’d hate who I’d become. So I shut you out, thinking it would spare me from that. But regardless of everything, you were still there—supportive, patient, loving... And I just... I was such an asshole."

Spencer clenched his eyes shut, his throat tightening as he struggled to pull himself together.

"I was so wrapped up in my own fears, convinced of something that wasn’t even real, that I ended up making it happen. When you tried to talk to me that night, I was sure you were trying to end things, so I panicked and ended everything like an absolute idiot. I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I should’ve just listened."

Y/N’s eyes widened, a small gasp slipping from her lips as he moved from his spot beside her on the couch to sink to the ground in front of her. He let go of her hands, gripping her hips and digging his head into her lap as sobs wracked his body.

"Y/N, please," Spencer's voice cracked, his eyes searching hers with desperation when he looked up. "I know I hurt you, and I can’t undo that. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it… and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it, but I can’t live without you. Please... take me back. I'll do whatever it takes. I need you more than anything. You’re my everything." His words were a soft, broken whisper, and his eyes filled with tears as he looked up at her, hoping for a chance to make things right.

Y/N felt her heart break all over again as she looked down at Spencer, her trembling hands coming up to cradle his face as she exhaled deeply.

Even though the pain from everything that had happened still gnawed at her, his explanation dulled some of the grief and filled in the gaps of her confusion. Over the three months apart, she hadn’t come to hate him as she’d feared. In fact, it was the opposite—being without him had only made her love him more. Now that she knew the emptiness of life without him, she couldn’t imagine a future for herself that he wasn’t a part of.

"Spencer… I never stopped being yours," Y/N whispered, her thumb brushing away his tears. "I’m still hurt, but I can’t picture my life without you. You’re my heart, my forever... Nothing will change that. So, if you're willing to put in the work to fix your mistake, then I'm willing to give us another chance."

Spencer looked up at her, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and disbelief that she wasn't turning him away, but giving him the chance to return. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I’m so, so thankful for you, Y/N. I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever know." He sniffled, his breath shaky as he gently pressed a kiss to her wrist.

Y/N smiled wistfully, letting out a soft, watery laugh as she felt his lips on her skin. "Come here, Spence," she whispered, gently pulling him up to meet her before pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

The moment their lips met again, after months of separation, a spark ignited between them, breathing life back into their souls as they lost themselves in each other. Within seconds, their kiss shifted from gentle and heartfelt to intense and all-consuming. Every emotion they'd felt while apart transferred between them through the brushing of their tongues, translating into action as their hands began to roam.

A simultaneous moan filled the air between them, fueling Spencer as he broke the kiss to stand from his awkward positioning on the floor to lift Y/N into his arms in a surprising show of strength. She squealed, wrapping her legs around his waist as he began to carry her down the hall toward her bedroom. With an impatient shove of his foot, the door opened, allowing them to stumble into her dimly lit room in a fit of breathless giggles.

The storm howled outside, lightning slashing through the darkness, briefly lighting the room with each strike as Spencer laid her across the middle of her bed, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips once more.

“How did—“ Spencer’s lips left hers to trail down her jaw. “I ever—“ A soft moan fell from her as his lips made their way to the crook of her neck. “Think I could live without this?” A sharp gasp escaped into the night air as he sucked a possessive mark into her skin.

Satisfied with the bruise blossoming across her skin, his mouth dragged upwards back to hers. “There isn’t… a single lifetime… or universe… where every atom in my body…. wouldn’t be irresistibly drawn to you,” He murmured reverently between kisses, pressing her further into the bed as he hovered above her. A moan rumbled in his chest as her fingers tangled into his damp hair, her mouth moving frantically against his.

“Spencer—“ Y/N whimpered, breaking the kiss and arching into his touch as his hips rolled against hers. “I need you—“

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he whispered softly. "But I've got so much time to make up for. I'm going to take it slow, and I'm going to show you how much you truly mean to me."

Spencer slithered down her body, kneeling on the ground and pulling her toward the edge of the bed until her legs dangled over the side, pressing a kiss to each of her knees as he settled between them. “Going to worship you the way you deserve,” He breathed, his fingers finding the drawstring of her pajama pants and untying them slowly as he kept his eyes on hers.

Y/N sat up on her elbows, her breath hitched as he dragged the fabric off of her body. Hot, open-mouthed kisses peppered up and down the inside of her thighs as soon as the pants hit the ground, his fingers tracing up her goose-bumped skin until they found the edge of her panties. He leaned forward, unable to hold himself back any longer as he dragged them down her body with his teeth.

A shiver ran down her spine as he trailed his lips up her leg, the anticipation heightening her sensitivity. Before she could beg for him to just get on with it, his mouth latched onto her clit, lapping furiously at her arousal.

“Oh— fuck!” Y/N cried out, her hands shooting out to thread through his hair as he began to devour her.

Spencer groaned against her skin, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she was sure there would be small, fingerprint shaped bruises the next day. His eyes were squeezed shut, a look of pure ecstasy on his face while he buried his face in her folds. He lapped at her as though she herself were an aphrodisiac, dizzying and potent and all consuming in a way that left him helpless to her effect on him.

Y/N writhed underneath him as he pulled her into him, soft noises slipping unabashedly from her lips as pleasure seared through her.

He released one of her hips to bring his fingers up to her entrance. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger into her warmth, his tongue flicking against her clit in tandem as he began to thrust the digit into her. He soon followed it with his ring finger, curling them in the way he knew would have her shaking against him.

“God— I missed this. Missed you,” Spencer groaned, turning his head to nip at her thigh as he panted against her skin. His fingers thrusted harder, repeatedly brushing her G-spot as she cried out for him. “Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl? Hm?”

Y/N whined, nodding frantically as her grip tightened in his hair. “I’m... please, I’m so close—“ she panted, a guttural moan wrenching its way from her throat as he returned his mouth to her clit.

That’s all it took to push her over the edge. As she crumbled beneath him, a thunderclap reverberated through the walls, its timing almost poetic in its synchronization with her climax. Her thighs clamped around his head as her hips bucked into his touch, trembling as he worked her through it.

“That’s it, honey. Fuck, you’re divine—“ Spencer cooed, hovering above her again as his lips pressed to her forehead. “I need to be inside of you. Need to feel you. Please, sweetheart?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving as she panted, still reeling from the first orgasm she’d had in months. Dazedly, she nodded, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. “Please, Spence. Need you so bad, baby—“

Spencer whined, breaking away from her to hurriedly lift her shirt over her head. The sight of her, bare and flushed from her orgasm, had an almost feral wave of arousal crashing over him. Before him lied the woman he loved with every fiber of his being, trusting him with her heart again despite the pain he'd caused her before. This time, though, he was determined to protect it— to show her, day after day, just how deeply he loved her, ensuring she'd never feel forgotten or neglected again.

He stripped away his own layers, trembling with anticipation as he crawled over her. Y/N shifted, her thighs parting to make room for him between them as she laid back against her pillows. The tension in the air was palpable as he braced his arms on either side of her head, lowering himself so their chests brushed together.

"I love you, Y/N. More than words can ever say," Spencer murmured, resting his forehead against hers as he lined up his aching cock at her entrance. "You are the reason I breathe, the reason I wake up each day. You’re my saving grace, my redemption… I love you."

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she cradled his face, their noses brushing in a soft, intimate touch. "I love you, Spencer,” she whispered, her voice thick with raw emotion. “Every version of you. Always and forever.”

Their mouths dropped open into a silent moan as he slowly began to ease into her, inch by inch as Y/N re-adjusted to the stretch of him. Spencer's eyes fluttered shut at the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside of her again after so long, inhaling sharply through his nose as he bottomed out. Her nails dug into his shoulder, the sting only heightening the intense pleasure coursing through him.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," He moaned brokenly, hissing as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "So, so perfect for me."

Y/N whimpered, wriggling her hips in a silent plea for him to start moving. Her head tipped back into the pillow at his first thrust, a soft gasp falling from her lips as he repeated the motion. Her hands left his shoulders, finding purchase in his hair as she pulled his mouth to hers once more as he found a steady rhythm.

Spencer moaned into her mouth, rocking into her with short, hard thrusts. Tears slipped down Spencer’s face, falling softly onto her cheeks as he held her close. He couldn’t contain the overwhelming rush of emotion, savoring the warmth of having the love of his life back in his arms. He never thought he'd feel this again, and he couldn’t be more grateful as he pulled back to stare at the woman beneath him.

Tears streamed down her face as she gazed up at him, her eyes full of reverence. The silent mix of their tears spoke volumes, each drop a reflection of everything they had been through and everything they were now.

Y/N's nails dragged down his back as his hips began to pound into hers, the bed creaking with each sharp thrust he delivered. Spencer was murmuring into the crook of her neck now, needy moans slipping free between the soft praise he rained down upon her as she cried out for him.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart. My sweet girl. I love you," he crooned into her skin, panting as he neared his climax. "Love how you feel for me. So fucking wet. So tight."

Their moans mingled together as he shifted above her, resting his weight on one arm as the other pressed her knee toward her chest. The change in angle drove him straight into her G-spot, causing her to cry out his name as he drilled into her.

"You're everything I could ever need. You have every part of my soul, all of it. I'm yours—completely and utterly yours."

Spencer's words triggered her second orgasm, her walls clenching around him as she sobbed her release. He groaned loudly, the feeling of her cumming around his cock sending him hurtling off the edge as he sank as deeply as he could inside of her, giving her everything he had.

His hips rolled into hers gently as they came down from their highs until they were both whimpering from the oversensitivity, finally slowing to a stop as he collapsed on top of her. His lips softly pressed against her skin, a flurry of kisses landing on her face and shoulder. She laughed, trying to wiggle away from him, pushing him gently as she playfully squirmed beneath his affection.

As they cleaned up, tender kisses and gentle words passed between them, the heavy burden of the past few months slowly lifting. In the stillness, a quiet peace settled between them, a mutual understanding that no matter what came next, everything would be okay because they had each other once more. They crawled back into her bed, cuddling together as they listened to the storm start to die down.

"So… I can ask Emily for some time off next week, and we can get you moved back in?" Spencer suggested, his fingers lightly tracing up and down her back as they lay together.

Y/N tilted her head, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth as she looked up at him. "You do realize I’ve still got three months left on this lease, right?"

Spencer waved his hand, a hint of urgency in his voice as he shook his head. “I’ll cover the rest of it. Then you can break the lease, Y/N. Just come home, please.”

Her heart warmed at the depth of sincerity in his voice, knowing he meant every word. Sighing softly, she gave in, nodding as she nestled closer to him, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over. They exchanged quiet, tender kisses and murmured goodnights, and soon Spencer’s breathing slowed, signaling he was asleep. Once she was sure he was resting peacefully, she carefully pulled back just enough to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering for a brief moment before she whispered into the stillness of the room.

“You are my home.”

Continued A/N's: I think this was quite honestly one of my favorite fics I've written so far. I love love love some angst turned happy ending and I LOVE a man begging on his knees 🙂‍↕️ Again, thank you so very much to the anon who requested this!! I have two more requests lined up after this that I can't wait to get written and posted. :) <3 K

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[w1ll0wray]

hear me out, jinx X f!reader in a bridgerton like au.

where jinx is like the rebellious daughter/ward of a noble and she never really attends balls until she's forced to go in this one with her dad (preferably silco!) and in this ball she sees/meets reader who's so elegant, poised, and composed, like an absolute belladonna. jinx just falls for her and she ends up attending practically every ball that reader attends just to see her. but at some point, reader notices and confronts her about it.

pls :3

THE CHERRY ON TOP ft. bridgerton au jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary: to her dismay, the rebellious jinx is suddenly forced by her father, Silco, to attend the first Winter ball in order to show herself in society. though, when she catches a glimpse of you there, she can’t help but attend every ball hosted this season.

⊹₊⟡⋆warnings: dom!jinx x sub!femreader, bridgerton au, dukes daughter!jinx x marquis daughter!reader, rebellious daughter!jinx, carriage, cherry, fingering, reader!receiving, other characters mentioned, men or minors dni, smut, regency era.

wc. 2.9k

𐙚 note | I’d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

this was a request; I hope this reached your expectations!

“You will be attending the Winter ball with me tonight.” 

Jinx’s head snapped up from her breakfast, Her fork remains stuck in the chocolate-drizzled waffle, hand frozen in place as she pauses. 

“I will not.” She spouts out, shooting daggers at Silco’s face, his attention on the newspaper sprawled out in front of him. Jinx swallowed down her breakfast, sitting up from her seat at the dinner table, taking furious steps towards him. 

Banging a fist on the table, he doesn’t flinch at her attempt to spook him, rather amused, “You need to make an appearance again— you’re the duke’s daughter after all.” He hummed out the last part, sipping on his tea. She groans dramatically, rolling her eyes, “It’s not like you’d need me there.” 

“You’re of age. Who knows, you might meet some intriguing ladies.” He noticed the way she tensed up at the mention of girls, patting himself in the back for figuring out her secret. Jinx crossed her arms, hmphing, “Fine, but I’m not wearing a dress.” 

Silco shrugged, waving a hand in the air, 

“I’ll let you borrow from my closet.” Once Jinx left the dining room, he smiled at his victory, assured that his daughter wouldn’t be in a bar again. 

Jinx was irritated. 

The last time she attended a ball— she was so disinterested, to the point where they had to leave because she scared off the host’s son. Chuckling at the memory, Jinx’s joyful moment ended in a split second, the sound of violins bringing her back to reality.

To be exact, the ball was a bore. She stood next to the drink stands, the lemonade stinging her throat. She knew who would be at this ball—she was staring right at her. 

Her sister. 

Arms intertwined with her wife, Vi was greeting another couple, a toothy grin curved on her lips. Jinx huffed, frustrated by her sister’s presence. They grew distant after the wedding, Vi naturally occupied with her new life. Jinx envied the fact that she found her partner for life, the sight of them acting all lovey-dovey prompted her to look away. 

Regretfully, she’d been seen. 

“Powder!” Of course, only Vi would call her by that name. Jinx resisted the urge to scoff, whirling around to face her older sister. Engulfed in a warm hug, Jinx hesitantly wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on her shoulder, “Hey, sis.” 

Vi then explained how proud of her she was, Jinx’s appearance rare these days. After a couple of cheesy remarks from Vi, she left as soon as Caitlyn needed her help. Sighing, Jinx moved the glass she held around, inspecting the lemonade swirl around. Opting for sitting, she sat down at one of the empty tables, slouching into the seat and observing her surroundings. 

Blah, blah, blah. 

She scrunched her nose, weary of the social gathering already. 

Though, as her eyes roam around, her gaze lands on you. 

There you stood, in a soft blue gown with a high-waisted empire silhouette fitted just below the bust and flowing gracefully down with delicate puffed short sleeves. A sheer white shawl drapes around you arms, paired with gloves, hair styled in an updo. 

Jinx didn’t know why, but something about the way you stood out from the other ladies, posture excellent and the soft flutter of motion from your silk fan, got her intrigued. She didn’t dare come up to you though, resorting to only staring as you engaged with the other ladies, adding to your graceful demeanor. 

The night soon ended and Jinx left reminiscing about you. 

It wasn’t long until another ball was held. The moment Silco mentioned a ball, Jinx jumped up, “I’ll come with you!” Which left him completely bewildered. 

This ball, however, celebrated the new year outside, everyone dressed in darker colors. It wasn’t long until she caught you sitting with other ladies—Caitlyn and Vi being one of them. 

Jinx’s eyes nearly flew out of their sockets at the sight of those two beside you. As soon as Vi got up to grab some champagne, Jinx appeared, questioning her. 

“How do you know that girl?” She spat, voice low but anyone who passed by knew she was accusing her older sister of something. Vi frowned, brows knitting together, “Know who…?” 

Jinx nodded her head at you, dressed in a burgundy gown, giggling alongside Caitlyn. Her older sister sent her a suspicious glance, sipping on her champagne, “Why the sudden interest?” 

The blue-haired girl groaned, tugging Vi closer to lean into her ear, “I want to get to know her.” She demanded. Vi only chuckled, holding up her hands in defense, “She’s just one of Cait’s friends. I don’t know her well—“ 

“—Help me, then.” Jinx dug a finger on Vi’s chest, squinting her eyes, hopeful for a deal. Vi only defeatedly sighed, “Alright— I’ll try asking her about stuff. Meet me back here later.” She bumped her shoulders with Jinx, leaving her to sit back at the table. 

For the rest of the night, Jinx creepily watched from another table, one where Silco also sat at. The soft curve of your lips whenever you smiled at someone made her heart leap, irritated by Vi’s delayed answer. However, once the food was served, Vi got up to serve herself a drink. Jinx immediately sprang to her feet, ignoring Silco’s voice.

Jinx dangerously leaned against the table, raising an impatient brow, “So?”

Vi poured herself some champagne before facing her, “Cait said she was from a noble house— her father is desperately trying to find her someone to marry.”

Jinx frowned, glancing at you for a split second. Vi continued, “She has two older brothers so….good luck.”  She’s about to leave before Jinx forces her back, “I didn’t ask about her family history— I asked about her!” 

Vi scowled, rolling her eyes at her sister’s disturbance, “How about you go ask her yourself?” Her words caused Jinx to scoff. 

Jinx’s shoulders drooped, defeat evident on her face. Suddenly, a strong hand lands on her back, “I’m sure now is the perfect opportunity.” Vi forcefully tugs her along, ignoring Jinx’s complaints as they approach the table.

Once they arrived, the ladies looked up in confusion at the interruption, but curious expressions took over at the sight of Jinx. Cait was the first to wave, “You’ve finally decided to join us, Jinx.” She added, gesturing for her to sit. As she sat down, Jinx could feel your gaze on her. 

Peering up, Jinx nearly flinches, stunned that you were indeed staring at her. Though, to her surprise, you had softly smiled before facing the lady beside you. Jinx soon felt out of place, not socializing with anyone until one of the ladies had asked her a question.

“Jinx, what are your hobbies?” The lady was sat beside you, fluttering her fan. Jinx leaned back in her seat, hand holding a filled glass, “During my free time I like to practice my archery, hunting and— uhm— drawing skills.” She added the last bit after noticing the horrified gazes. The lady hummed, eyes wide, “…quite peculiar.” 

The blue-haired girl narrowed her gaze, frowning in disdain but kept her mouth shut. She then glanced at you, busy eating your ice scream topped with a cherry. You seemed content, watching the crowd. Thankfully, Jinx had a better view altogether, taking notes of the way the cherry left a red residue on your lips. Suddenly, your head snapped at her direction, but your eyes set on someone else. 

“Excuse me!” You called out, hand coming up. Everyone at the table glanced at the server approaching, holding a plate full of the ice cream glasses you had just eaten. Cait was the first to interrupt, “Don’t you think about it— you’ve had too much!” She shoved your hand down, waving at the server to leave. 

Speechless, Jinx watched as you showed another side of yourself, whining at Cait’s intrusion, “You know I’m not allowed at home— just let me have a bit more.” You tried to bargain, holding Caitlyn’s hands in yours. Though, Cait shook her head, pointing at the fruits in the middle of the table, “Have those instead.” 

You scrunched your nose, “I only like cherries.” Jinx let out a chuckle, prompting you to glance up at her, leaving her to feel overwhelmed and trying to avoid your gaze. 

That night ended with Jinx feeling unsatisfied with the lack of socialization she had done with you— all the other ladies somehow chatted with her except you. 

A few days later, Jinx had gone out for a stroll in towns square. It was a chilly morning, London weather unpredictable as usual. Silco had requested some errands to be done for him, so she accepted and headed first for the bakery. Usually, they’d send over a servant, but Jinx had felt so locked up in her chambers, that she leaped for the opportunity to get out. Smelling the delicious odor of bread, Jinx sighed in delight as she entered the bakery. 

Though, her whole body turns rigid at the sight of you and an older man chatting with the seller, your servants holding packages. Trying to swiftly avoid you, Jinx stood at the corner behind you, praying that you wouldn’t notice her. 

She shamelessly stared at your back, head bent down so that you wouldn’t spot her. You somehow shined compared to every other lady in the bakery, elegance radiating off of you. Jinx craved for a chance to speak to you— but every time she thought of it—  her heart beat quickens and she gets the urge to dig her own hole. To her dismay, once you turn around and start making your way out, you steal a quick glance at her for a split second before continuing. 

Jinx’s heard jumped out of her chest when your eyes met hers, feeling giddy all of a sudden. 

The next time she spots you is at the Spring ball. The moment you came into view, her whole body warmed up. You wore a soft pink gown, your hair down for once, a flower hair piece tucked in. There you sat, at another table, with your father—as did she. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off, your silhouette luring her into a deeper hole of desire. Her eyes trailed up to your lips around the cherry, sucking the ruby juices that escaped. Jinx had a feeling she wasn’t being slick with her intensive staring, but you just looked so beautiful and—

“—Who are you staring at?” Silco’s voice shook Jinx, forcing her gaze to break away from you. Jinx was quick to shoot back, “No one.” 

He sent her a skeptical glance, “Is it the Marquis’s daughter?” Silco detected Jinx’s silence, smiling at her shy behavior. 

“Perhaps you could go speak to her?” He suggested, encouraging her. Jinx only sighed defeatedly, “She’s so different compared to..me.” 

Silco only scoffed, sipping on some crimson wine, “Nonsense.” He then turned his head, “Marquis!” He called out, gesturing for the man to come over. Jinx panicked, whispering profanities when you followed after your father. Silco motioned for them to take a seat. 

Jinx didn’t acknowledge you, trying to seem unbothered. You, however, knew her little game.

You’d be labeled as a fool if you didn’t notice her piercing stares every ball. Eyeing the way her eyes trailed on the crowd, you scrunched your nose, trying to understand why she never spoke to you. 

On the first ball of the season, you felt her burning stare on you the whole event, as if stripping you of your garments. Even at the New year Ball, her eyes would bore into your side. You thought she hated you at first, but then you realized how different  she acted. Her fingers would fidget with her braid, or even the fabric of her pants. 

Silco spoke with your father, leaving you to sit across from Jinx. You tilt your head, inspecting her side profile. You’d be an idiot to not think she was attractive. Even after she had left in the last ball, your friends had whispered about her looks, describing her as dashing. 

You did your own search, digging through Lady Whistledown’s past newspaper for any information. The only thing you found was Jinx getting labeled as an ‘eye-catching woman who had a reputation of flirting openly’. You wondered if she changed since she didn’t seem like the type. 

“Jinx, would you like to dance?” 

Your sudden question stuns Jinx, forcing her to meet your eye. 

“I— Uhm.. Alright.” She muttered, taking a deep breath before holding out her palm for you to take. You glance at her manicured nails, smiling, “Thank you.” 

Jinx tried to seem composed, maneuvering you across the dance floor like it was her second nature. Your hand rested on her shoulder, the other intertwined with hers. Feeling her tense when you place her palm on ur back, you giggled, “.. never danced with a girl?” 

She murmured under her breath, “Not really.” like it was painful to admit. She avoided your eye during the waltz, but you didn’t appreciate that. 

“I know you’ve been watching me.” You whispered in her ear, innocently staring up at her as she forgot a step. She looked away, “I have no idea—“ 

“—Jinx, are you interested in me?” You instantly asked, flickering your gaze across her face. She didn’t answer, biting on her bottom lip. You huff out, “I asked you a question.” She twirled you around, your chest colliding roughly with hers, causing her to inhale deeply. 

You tightened your hold on her shoulder, head leaning in closer, your perfume surrounding Jinx’s senses,  “I would appreciate it if you could stop ignoring me and respond—“ 

In the midst of your words, her lips capture yours. Gasping, your eyes squeeze shut at the impact of her fingers tangled in your hair. She then pulls away, her lips parted, staggered with her actions. 

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” She rasped, shoving your shoulder with hers, speeding away from the dance floor. You immediately grab her arm, aware of the numerous stares around you—especially your fathers. She turned her head, pausing when she realized you were following. 

“Take me with you.” You whispered, desire glinting in your gaze. Stunned, Jinx glances at Silco, noticing his triumphant look. Peering back at you, she finally cracks a smile. 

She tugs your hand and guides you out of the ball, into the carriage parking. Jinx immediately shooed her drivers away. The blue-haired girl pulled you in the carriage and not wasting any time in pressing her lips against yours. Grabbing her face, you giggled as she motioned for you to lay down on the plush seat. 

Her attention then laid on the silver plate resting on the opposite sofa, cherries and other fruits there. Wickedly grinning, she leans back down, her tongue slipping past your lips to wrap her tongue around yours.  Whining, your knee nudged her leg, desperate for more. 

She clicks her tongue, “Patience.” She whispered, peppering your neck with wet kisses. Biting your lip to reduce any noises, you arched your back, “Just get on with it.” You whined, forcing her head down. She yanked your hand off, lifting her head, “I said patience.” 

Her fingers then slip beneath your gown, trailing up to your thigh. Your hips twitch in anticipation. At last, she moves your lingerie to the side, slender fingers rubbing your pussy. Whimpering, your head tilts back, soft noises escaping your lips. Jinx inspected the way your brows furrowed, lips parting as she entered one finger. 

Distracting you from the sudden discomfort, she leaves a couple of kisses on your collarbone. When you buck your hips, she takes it as a sign to slightly pull out and plunge her finger back in. You sigh, eyes shutting closed from the ecstasy. A grin spread on Jinx’s lips as your folds suck her finger in, encouraging her to add another finger. Rocking her finger into you, you twitch, legs spreading to give her space. Entering another finger, you gasp, wrapping your arms around her neck. 

Moaning into her ear, her grin multiplies at the accomplishment of having you turn putty in her arms. Jinx suddenly speeds up the pace, ramming her fingers into you, eliciting cries from your pretty lips. She would mutter soft praises in your ear at each hard thrust of her fingers, licking your earlobe, “..so good for me.” She pecks your cheek, humming at each plea you let out. 

Once you came apart on her fingers, she praised you immensely, “Perfect girl.” She pulls her fingers out, coated with your cum. Lifting her wet fingers up to her lips, her tongue pokes out to lick, amused by your entranced gaze. 

She separated her fingers, mischievously grinning as a string of your essence connected in between, noticing the rosy hue spreading across your bashful expression. 

“Don’t be ashamed,” She sucked her fingers clean, “…you taste sweet—of course.” You sat up, your gown covering the spot Jinx just invaded. Turning your attention to the cherries, you picked one up, wasting no time in biting into it. 

Jinx stares as the crimson juices trickle down your chin, stretching her finger out to prevent it from dropping on your gown. Licking her index finger, Jinx hums at the taste of cherries. 

“It’s good, right?” You feel the need to verify if she finds it delicious too. Jinx, however, just shrugs and grabs ahold of your hips, “You know what’s good?” Giggling, you straddle her lap, facing her directly. 

Jinx chuckles, watching you finish the cherry and throwing the seed on the platter before cupping her face. 

  “Now the cherry is on top.” 

creds to the dividers. thank you for reading! reblogs r appreciated:)

[leqonsluv3r]

Can I pls request one where Leon is obsessed with his wife’s small baby bump? Like especially when she wears dresses he just can’t stop staring 🧎‍♀️🌸

baby blues

—re4!leon kennedy!husband x pregnant wife!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, a lot of fluff, leon being the best baby daddy out there, reader kind of hates being pregnant at times, reader deals with some body issues and how their body is changing, leon is so sweet and supportive, gives cocky hot dad vibes, mentions of pregnancy pain, oral (f receiving), breast play, lots of kissing and praise, mentions of past sex, mentions of doctors offices, cursing, leon and reader being the cutest little husband and wife out there.

“you had tried. tried stretching, tried taking a pill and had tried sleeping. but everything hurt. everything. your feet, your head, your back and especially your breasts. it felt like something was tugging and poking at all the soft parts of your body. it was torture, almost. if there wasn’t a handsome man next to you, rubbing your back as you laid on your side. leon dulled the ache a little, he looked at you still like the day he met you four years ago, even when you were pregnant, fat and you felt like death had taken over certain parts of your body. leon still looked at you like you were the most precious thing. and it made you wanna cry, scream and kiss him all at the same time.”

— or reader gets pregnant and tries to come to terms with it and leon has no problem helping her out

masterlist taglist

an: thank you for the request anon <33 hope you enjoy it. this was such a cute little thing to write. might make a headcanon list soon just for this specific request :,)

you and leon had talked about kids, about babies.

about the joy it would bring both of you to have something made by the two of you. to make you both enjoy the ties of your marriage and love.

you, however didn’t expect to get pregnant so soon after your marriage. but leon…leon was hard to resist and your body craved him and it was your choice. a choice that you made over and over and over again.

until two lines changed his life and yours entirely, it was hard ignore how the both of you panicked. the excitement, nerves and the rushing of your heart beating accelerated as you stared at the test…four month ago.

you both had been so careful, so very careful, but in one night of heated touches and sloppy kisses, you decided to fuck the condom and just deal. thinking the birth control you took would be enough, but it…it was not. definitely not.

you dealt with being pregnant like a champ, or tried to. you were sore now, you were fatter and you felt like a truck had hit you when you simply moved to grab something.

you loved the idea of carrying a child in retrospect, when leon had pounded you into the mattress many times before, thinking and muttering all the obscene words and images about breeding you. you literally keened at the idea, but now, now that you were here and doing it, you wanted to rip this kid out of you.

you hurt every moment of everyday, you were tired and hungry and whenever you saw that stupid ASPCA commercial on the tv with the dogs, you started bawling like a child. it was obnoxious and to think it would only get more strenuous as the moments that passed was literal torture.

and the doctors appointments, the vitamins you had to take and the way your body changed. it was a lot to handle, you had leon. you had him to help but sometimes it didn’t feel like it was enough. you couldn’t dress like you usually did anymore and could only wear the sundresses and other dresses you had hanging in your closet.

it felt like you were playing dress up, but it was the only thing you were comfortable in these days. the only thing that fit over the bump. the only thing that made you feel pretty and not like an inflated blimp.

and the one thing besides the pain, the bloating and the never ending amount of morning sickness you’ve had to deal with…the one thing you held onto was by the end of it you would get to be a mom. leon would get to be a dad, that was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality these days.

but leon enjoyed the sight of you in your dresses, that was one thing that also kept you tethered. the way he still ate you alive with his eyes, scouring you still as if you haven’t changed at all. you would always find his blue eyes piercing into your pregnant frame whenever you’d slip on a dress for the day or when you were bare and just got out of the shower.

it made you more aroused then usual, the only thing worse was the leon never acted on it. he never once stopped you and brought you to your guys bedroom. he never offered to eat you out anymore. you didn’t know why he was staring but wouldn’t act. was he worried that he’d hurt you? or the baby? you didn’t know, you had no clue.

but it was festering, each look he gave you in your pretty little dresses with your bump of pregnancy was making your skin hotter everyday. you didn’t know how much longer of this pregnancy you could take if he didn’t act on his desires. most importantly, your own.

two weeks, later and your sick of everything.

your sick of walking, your back pain, the peeing every five minutes. just everything makes you annoyed or feel like your going to crawl out of your own skin. you don’t get comfort in bed, you toss and turn. you’re then frustrated because you can’t sleep on your stomach, you wanna rip this baby out of you and it’s only the four month mark.

leon is a saint though. he’s bringing you food, rubbing your feet, holding your hair back when you throw up from the morning sickness. you feel bad for being such a bitch, for being so mean and hormonal. you try not to snap or throw a hissy fit.

but it’s hard.

you’re also sick of the doctor asking you twenty million questions when you go to your next appointment. already fed up from lack of sleep and your bowel movements. the baby is healthy, so everyone is happy. just not you.

another thing, leon keeps eyeing you and basically fucking you with his eyes. another thing that’s just adding up into your short limit of patience. you wanna scream at him to just fuck you, do something. you need a release. and if you could do it on your own, you would. but you can’t even see over your stomach or much less reach it.

so your just stuck feeling pent up and frustrated with everything. until one day, one day you just snap. you just lose your shit. you don’t remember what really caused it to happen, maybe it was the fact that you saw leon wearing only a towel after his shower, practically making you drool.

but you lost it. you just lost it, for absolutely no reason at all.

“can you stop looking at me like that?” you say softly as you look over at him, your being patient, so patient at this point and it makes you wanna scream or cry. he’s digging for something in your shared dresser drawer at this point, minding his own business.

leon looks behind him, over his shoulder to where you sit on the bed. he raises a small brow, “i’m not even looking at you, baby. i’m getting clothes.” he says with a small hint of amusement in his voice.

“you know what i mean, leon.” you say in a annoyed tone as you shift on the bed, the many pillows for your back pain and a heating pad pressed up against it. you opted for a t-shirt of his and underwear, the only two things besides dresses that you could really stand these days.

he grabs his boxers and takes off his towel, you try to ignore the arousal that’s literally pooling uncomfortably in your underwear as you see it. your trying to stay annoyed, stay focused, but his dick is just right there. so far out of your reach but so close and you just want to pounce on him.

“i can’t stare at my beautiful wife now?” he says with a small notch in his brow, pulling his boxers up over his dick, making you disappointed and snap back into what was currently happening. you huff and rub your bump, shifting against the heating pad and pillows.

“no, you can.” you say with a small glare in his direction, “but if your not gonna do something about it, i’d rather you tell me then just…” you trail off when he crawls on the bed next to you, sitting beside you. “angel, you have something you wanna share with me?” he says in that low and intimate tone that gets your insides all bubbly.

you gnaw on your bottom lip in contemplation, “no. i don’t.” he chuckles lowly and moves even closer to you on the bed, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing. “i hardly believe that, baby. no offense.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to your ear.

you were going to jump him if he didn’t stop this, he was teasing you. he had to be, it was ridiculous that he couldn’t even see how miserable this was making you. “can you just…?” you start and fail pathetically as you try to squirm into his touch more on your thigh.

“can i just what?” he says in a soft timbre into your ear, almost daring and pushing you to say it. to ask. you were beyond irritated and wound up now. everything hurt and your body felt hot. “can you please touch me?” you say softly, you sound whiney and desperate and it’s nothing like you. but a part of you really didn’t care anymore.

you hormonal, achy and moody beyond relief. you just wanted him to touch you, to fuck you even. it was getting annoying how much your body had craved him since you became pregnant.

he didn’t move his hand from your thigh, his breath still ghosting over your ear and the side of your face. “i am touching you, love.” he says with an arrogant smirk against your skin.

arrogant bastard. you thought to yourself, you were brazen in the moment. “it hurts, leon. just…please?” you practically whined in that moment, you didn’t like the teasing. not when your patience was already short enough as it was.

he pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head, “what hurts, baby?” he says softly as he rubs his hand up her thigh and over her bump, soothing tender circles over your body and the baby beneath.

you don’t even care anymore, the soothing feeling of his hand over your t-shirt was enough. your cheeks were red though and you guided his hand up to your swollen breasts beneath your (his) t-shirt that you wore.

“oh, honey.” he sighs softly in a contented whisper against your head, pressing a small kiss to your hairline. he doesn’t move his hand on one of your swollen breasts, just rests his hand there as if he’s just supporting it with his large hand over the fabric.

“leon…please, it hurts.” you hear yourself breathe out in a whimper, one of pain or of desire, you didn’t know. you didn’t care to know right now. “hold on, hold on.” he mumbled softly as he shifted next to you, getting closer to your side, he adjusted himself on the pillows next to you.

“can’t deny my pretty little wife. can i?” he says into your ear with a small nip as his hand squeezed and kneaded one of your swollen breasts. you couldn’t help the sound that came out of you, a mix of relief and desire that you didn’t know you could make.

he moves his lips to press against your neck, nipping and licking as he kneads your breasts, trying to make the pain subside as you moan. “feels s’good…” you mumble in between small noises.

“i know, i know. sorry, for teasing you all this time.” he mumbles into your neck, “gotta stop teasing you…” he mumbles again in between kisses as he presses one more kiss under your ear.

his hands working up your swollen and aching breasts, you could feel your panties practically dripping with release. you grab at his bicep, curling around the muscle there for balance. “please…” you whimper softly.

he moves his lips up to your ear, “what do you want? use your words, baby.” he nips at your earlobe and keeps kneading your breasts, alleviating some of the ache there.

you grip down on his bicep harder, your hormones from the pregnancy were going crazy at his touch. “anything…something, please.” you whine softly near his ear as you almost draw blood. you just needed a release and you weren’t going to get far with him kneading your breasts.

“how about i eat out that pretty pussy? hmm?” he practically purrs into your ear as one of his hands leads down from your breasts to beneath the covers. your soaked underwear beneath your rotund belly, he finds it. an amusing sound leaving his mouth at your ear, tracing the pads of his fingers over your wet slit of your underwear.

his words and his touches having a disastrous affect on your pregnant body, you felt like a match that he was striking with flame and then putting out. it was so much in the best way possible.

you just nod rapidly, emitting a small whine as you clutch his bare bicep harder. “okay, pretty girl.” he presses another kiss to your ear, smirking to himself. he traces your wet slit again, marveling at how soaked you were for him.

“practically drenching your underwear, this all for me?” he muses as he pulls back on the bed next to you, pushing the covers back from your body. your hand falling down to the sheets beneath you, “yes…” you manage to get out as he clicks his tongue. a growl almost rose from his mouth as he gets farther back on the bed, moving in between your knees.

he sees the wet patch that’s soaking your underwear, he knew you were hormonal from the pregnancy. but god, how much arousal could form just from you looking at him? it needed to be studied, but he couldn’t help but feel his ego and confidence inflate.

your bodies reaction to him would always be something he’d never get tired of. especially now when you were drenching your pretty panties.

“fuck, baby. missed this sweet pussy.” he rasps as he looks up at you with hooded blue eyes, his pupils dilated. you knew that look well enough to know that he was going to give you what you both wanted.

release.

you mewl, “please, leon. don’t wanna beg…” you try to reach down to yank his hands or his head closer but your pregnant belly stops you. he puts a hand on the inside of your thigh, “no begging required. i’m going to eat out my pretty pregnant wife. i’m hungry anyways.” he smirks devilishly as he massage the meat of your thigh.

he doesn’t waste anytime, your head hits the mountains of pillows behind you. your chest rising and falling fast beneath his t-shirt that your wearing. his hands come up to the waist band of your underwear and slowly pull them down over your hips and bent legs.

your bare pussy is on display now and you feel the cold air hit your most private parts, ones that he’s seen before but now…now that you were pregnant and carrying his child…things were different. you looked more delicious now, looked more like he could eat you out for days. eat you and fuck you until the baby came.

god help him.

he doesn’t waste anytime, none whatsoever. he’s going to give you what you want. he rubs his fingers through your arousal, spreading it everywhere and teasing you just a bit longer.

you whine, “leon, please…just stop. i want it.” he looks up at you from where he’s laying on the mattress in between your bent legs. “i know baby, just admiring how beautiful you are…everywhere.” he smirks to himself and presses a kiss to the hood of your clit.

you moan a little, he clicks his tongue. “so sensitive.” he muses, “good to know some things never change after pregnancy.” he whispers as he presses another kiss to your clit.

“fuck…leon…” you whine softly, clenching the sheets beneath you. your hormone fueled body making you out to be this whiny monster.

he just chuckles against the skin of your dripping pussy, “just sit back and relax, sweet girl. i’ve got you.” he says as he runs his hands up to the sides of your hips, holding you steady as he dips his head down.

he starts licking a long stripe up from your drenched opening to your clit, your head tilting back as you moan loudly. you never failed to amaze him, get him hard and all worked up. you both had that affect on each other, good to know it was still intact.

how had leon not done this yet? not touched you this way yet when you’d been pregnant? you were like putty in his hands right now.

he felt like an idiot.

a large one. 

he stuck his tongue into your soaked opening and licked, fucking you with his tongue as you clenched the sheets harder beneath you. “fuck, want…uhh, so fucking good!” you moan loudly, practically screaming.

he just keeps fucking you with his tongue, almost rutting his boxer clad erection into the mattress. he reached one hand down to rub his thumb over your clit, still fucking you with his tongue.

your back arches a little, as much as it can without you hurting yourself. a white knuckled grip on the mattress is all you have as he ravishes you, keeps his tongue and fingers working you into oblivion as you writhe and moan underneath him.

“leon! uhh…fuck…” you babble nonsense as you feel the coil start to build in your lower abdomen, you had never come this fast before. but the fact that you were pent up, more hormonal then usual and he was working you open with his skilled mouth and fingers…

you were fucked, figuratively and literally.

he took his tongue out of your opening moving the finger that was on your clit, down to your soaked opening. his fingers working you open now, sliding one in which causes you to release a long moan, his name rolling off of your tongue.

his mouth attaching itself to your clit and licking, sucking and swirling his tongue. he was smirking as he did it. knowing that he was gonna feel you come all over his fingers and face.

he could do this forever, keep you pregnant forever just so he could hear those pretty little sounds you made when you’d fall apart beneath him.

he kept moving his pointer finger in and out, swirling his tongue over your swollen clit as you moaned obscenely, thanking god and him and his mouth.

“just…yes! fuck! gonna cum!” you babble again, losing all rational thoughts as he continued to lick and rub and finger you. you felt helpless under his touch, but in the best way. the way that made you and the unborn baby inside of you feel safe and cherished, loved even.

he just kept it up, only breaking his licking at your clit to talk you through it, “good girl, pretty little wife gonna cum all over my fingers? huh?” he says with a raspy voice, his lips stained in a gloss of your arousal.

you moan softly in response and nod, your eyes fluttering open and shut, your pussy clenching around his fingers. pulling them out just to push another long inside of you and curl your fingers upwards until he found your magic spot.

you whine at that, smacking a hand down on the sheets underneath you. “there it is…” he muses in a low tone, “good girl, maybe if your really nice i’ll pump another baby into you tomorrow.” he says with a smirk.

you moan, “fuck…yes!” you yell out, the idea of him fucking you and promising to get you even more pregnant…it was making that band inside of you get closer to snapping.

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? filling you up with my big cock and pumping you full of my cum?” he teases as he keeps fucking you with his two fingers, the noise of your arousal would normally be a turn off but you were so close to release that you didn’t care anymore.

you moaned and nodded dumbly in response, his free hand sliding from your hip to rub over the swell of your belly. “pump another baby into you, fuck, you’d love that.” he says lowly.

“i-i would…fuck, want more babies…” you whine softly as you writhe more, some tears leaking out of your eyes. he almost growls at that, pumping his fingers harder inside of you and rubbing that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

he knew you were close, knew you were going to reach that point that made you all blissed out and needy. “cmon baby, come all over my fingers. know you can.” he encouraged with a kiss to your clit, his free hand still rubbing over your belly.

all it took was him talking more, working you up with his sweet words and his fingers hitting the mark over and over again inside of you. you moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers. your release coating all over his digits.

he didn’t say anything, just worked you through it until overstimulation set in, removing his fingers from you. he brought them both up and licked the release from his fingers.

you watched him with undivided attention, your eyes lazily opening and closing in the haze of your orgasm. he smiled softly and crawled from in between your legs to rest over you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“don’t you ever think for one second that i don’t want to fuck you, taste you or do that. i love you and i love making you fall apart. you being pregnant…has nothing to do with me holding off.” he says in a reassurance, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

being mindful as he leaned over you not to disturb the bump of your belly. your eyes locked on his as he looked down at you, “i’ve just been stressed and on edge with prepping for the baby. it’s had absolutely nothing to do with you being pregnant.” he says softly, reaching a hand up and running it through the hair at the base of your skull.

“your so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. i know you don’t see it these days. but you are even hotter now that your carrying my baby, our baby.” he explains with a gentle smile, making some water prick into your eyes.

“so don’t think for one second that i find you unattractive or that i’m teasing you on purpose.” he says with another small peck to your lips, “you understand me?”

you nod slowly as you look up at him, blinking the small amount of water away from your eyes. you should’ve never doubted him, should’ve never thought that about yourself.

and he hated that, hated that he made you doubt yourself and your body for one second. you were so beautiful, you were his and he loved you. he had loved you long before you both spoke your vows in front of god and each other.

he loved you so much, as much as you loved him. so he rolled off from hovering on top to you, cuddling his body next to yours, letting himself wrap his strong arms around your pregnant body.

he wanted to hold you close to his heart, he always did inside. he always kept you there because that’s where you deserved to be. you were his wife and the mother of his (soon to be) child.

he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling the covers back up over you and him, cuddling you close. his hand rubbing over your belly with the fabric of his own t-shirt covering it. “your so very beautiful, baby. i love you so much. even when you don’t see it.” he says against the side of your head, pressing another kiss there.

you melted into his arms, your eyes fluttering close in exhaustion and in content. you didn’t feel so insecure and anxious anymore. you knew that he had been off, but he was just as stressed as you. he had to be, you were going to be a mom and he was going to be a dad.

it was a lot of pressure.

but as long as you both had each other, you knew you guys could do it. the rings on your hands symbolizing the best and worst parts of you and him, the parts that you accepted and promised to love forever.

and with him, it would never be scary. not if you had a husband like leon, and he would love you just as much as the baby inside of you.

it was a part of both of you, that could never be unloved. not if either of you had anything to say about it.

an: hope you guys enjoy. i couldn’t deny a double upload this week, my bad lol. i love you guys so much and i hope you enjoyed. happy friday!! i’m gonna be opening my requests again soon. i wrote this when i was ovulating so no harsh judgement. please reblog and like, kisses. xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl (if you wanna be on my taglist interact with the link at the beginning)



[coffeeshopguest]

please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!

I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭

The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night

Word Count: 1569

Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott

Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex

It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 

What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 

"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 

Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 

"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 

Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 

"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 

Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 

Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 

Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 

"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 

Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"

 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."

"You...you're in?" 

Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 

"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 

So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.

"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 

And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 

"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 

You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 

You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 

"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 

A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 

"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 

He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 

Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 

"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 

To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 

In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 

When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 

[bunny-1111]

Did I stutter? TN x fem!reader Part 2.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

WARNING: SMUTTTT, Reader discretion (18+) NO MINORSSSSSSS PLS

Authors note: first smut kinda nervous... this is a long one, I hope y'all enjoy <3

Part one here

reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3

...

What the fuck now, you think, making your way to the common room.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s useless. Theo’s always been hard to read, kept his cards too close to his chest, but this feels different—like he’s dropped the mask just enough for you to glimpse something darker lurking beneath. Something you’re not sure how to deal with, what the fuck is next, this sudden dominance is not hard to accept but hard to understand.

When you finally return to the common room, Pansy lounges on one of the sofas, flipping through a magazine. She barely looks up when you enter.

“Well? Did he say anything?” she asks, her voice dripping with casual curiosity, but you know her well enough to recognise the gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"How did you even see us having a conversation?" you enquire, brows furrowing

"I saw you walk past, then I saw Theo walk back The opposite way with a tiny but telling smile on his face", she smiles "So tell me, what did he say? Did he ask you to the dance?" she continues.

You toss your bag onto the floor, sinking into the chair opposite her. “No, not exactly,” you mutter, more confused than ever. Your mind still replaying the look Theo gave you, the way he practically claimed you without saying a word.

Pansy arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your lack of gossip. “Not exactly? That doesn’t sound like nothing. Come on, spill.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. “He asked if anyone had asked me, and when I said no, he said… ‘Good. Keep it that way.’” The words feel strange in your mouth as if they don’t belong to a casual conversation but something heavier and more serious.

Pansy stares at you for a moment, then her lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Oh, that’s rich. Typical Theo.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Pansy tosses the magazine aside, leaning forward like she’s about to reveal some grand secret. “He’s marking his territory, babe. Telling you not to go with anyone else, without actually having the guts to ask you himself.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words. Could she be right? Was Theo staking some kind of silent claim over you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and not entirely out of fear. There’s a part of you—a part you’re not sure you’re ready to admit to—that likes the idea of being claimed by him.

But that doesn’t mean you’re okay with the way he’s going about it.

“So what?” you say, exasperation creeping into your voice. “He’s just going to tell me to wait around for him while he ignores me at the ball?”

Pansy shrugs, unbothered. “Pretty much. That’s how these boys work. They want you, but they’re too proud to ask. So they’ll just… hover.”

You roll your eyes, sinking further into the chair. “I’m not going to just sit here and wait for him to make up his mind.”

Pansy grins, eyes twinkling with something dangerous. “Then don’t. Go with someone else. Let him squirm.”

The idea sounds thrilling, but you know it’s not that simple. Theo’s not the kind of guy you can make squirm. He’s the kind that would shut down any attempt to get under his skin, the kind who would lash out rather than admit any kind of weakness. And yet, the thought of pushing him—of seeing just how far he’ll go to keep you—lights a fire in your chest.

That's what you will do. Push him until he can't hold off any longer.

Toying with Theo was a dangerous game to play, even if you knew that, but if he's just going to sit there and not make anything happen, then, fuck, you need to take matters into your own hands.

Yes, you could just do the normal thing and pull him aside for a conversation, but now, where's the fun in that?

The next day, arriving at charms class, you don't take your usual seat with Theo and your friends. Instead, you skip over and find a place next to Anthony Goldstein, a cute Ravenclaw boy, who you knew would piss Theo off.

"Morning", you smile at Anthony. He looks at you, confused but excited.

"Good morning," he returns, starting what would become a cheerful conversation. As you laugh and talk throughout the class, you quickly glance over at a visibly upset Theodore and a very wide-smiling pansy. She knew what you were doing, and Theodore was catching on, too.

Theo’s eyes are burning holes into the back of your head, and you can feel it. Every time you lean in a little closer to Anthony, let out a laugh that’s just a touch too loud; you know Theo’s watching. It’s exactly what you wanted—his attention, focus, and jealousy. But now that you have it, it’s making your skin prickle in anticipation in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for.

Anthony’s sweet, too sweet. He’s charming, and he’s kind, but he’s not Theo. There’s no edge to him, no danger. And while the conversation flows easily enough, your mind keeps drifting back to the boy brooding in the corner, whose eyes haven’t left you since the class began. You know he’s seething. Good. He should be. He warned you to keep away from any guy who could want something off you, but you weren’t getting enough out of Theo, so he pushed this out of you, you determine. 

As the class drags on, you notice the shift in the air. Theo’s presence feels suffocating, almost predatory like he’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You can’t help but glance over again, meeting his gaze for just a second—long enough to see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His jaw is clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, and for a second, you think he might snap right there in the middle of class, but he doesn’t. He’s controlled, as always. And that only frustrates you more.

You knew you were aggravating him. You have no idea what the consequences are; you have a feeling brewing in your chest that you would find out sooner than later. 

When your professor dismisses the class, you gather your things slowly, lingering by Anthony’s side, pretending not to notice the way Theo’s already standing by the door, waiting for you. Anthony smiles, oblivious, and asks if you’d like to walk to the Great Hall with him. You almost say yes, just to push Theo a little further, but before the words leave your mouth, you feel a hand wrap firmly around your wrist.

You turn to see Theo, his eyes dark and dangerous, staring down at you with a look that makes your heart race.

“We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and commanding.

You don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s tugging you out of the classroom, pulling you through the corridors, a man on a mission. You stumble to keep up, your mind racing to catch up with him, but there’s no mistaking the tension in the air now. He’s pissed. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you wanted.

When he drags you into a broom closet and slams the door behind you, your pulse is pounding in your ears. Theo’s still gripping your wrist, his fingers tight around your skin, and when he finally lets go, your breathe was still held tight, like he was the one who could allow you to exhale 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, his voice cold, but his eyes—God, his eyes are on fire.

You straighten up, refusing to back down. “What do you mean?”

Theo takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours as he looms over you. “You know exactly what I mean,” he growls. “Sitting with Goldstein. Laughing with him. What was that, huh? Trying to make me jealous?”

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to show how much his proximity affects you. “Is it working?”

His jaw ticks, and for a moment, you think he might lose control. But then he surprises you—he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You want to play games, fine. But you’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And I don’t think you’re ready for what happens next.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. The tension between you is electric, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his body is coiled, ready to snap. You know you’ve pushed him to the edge, but you’re not backing down now. Not when you’ve come this far.

“I think I can handle it,” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. It’s enough to break whatever restraint Theo’s been holding onto.

“Are you sure?” he stalks even closer, leaning down to you, his fingers forcing your face up to his all you can do it nod as an unexpected wave of shyness hits you. Your heart drops when you hear a gentle but quick knock on the door, please, you think no one interrupts what might just finally happen. You both look at the twisting door knob, silence falls. 

“Hey, it everything ok in here? It’s Anthony” your heart drops, Theo might spiral. 

His hands loop around you, pushing you behind him, opening the door, “Everything's just fine. You don’t go following girls into broom closets all the time, do you? Shes with me. Now fuck far off,” Theo replied, slamming the door in his face. 

You hear his footsteps quickly rush off  

He flicks the lock of the door so quickly, so quick to kiss you that anything you feel melts away, in an instant, his hands are on you, gripping your waist, pulling you against him with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. His lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, like he’s finally letting go of everything he’s been holding back. You don’t even have time to think before you kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, harder, deeper.

It’s all heat and intensity, a wild storm brewing for far too long. Theo’s hands roam over your body, possessive and hungry, like he’s claiming every inch of you as his, his lips never leaving yours as his hands work quickly, almost frantically, to tug at the hem of your shirt. You gasp as his fingers brush against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Theo pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice thick with possessiveness.

You nod, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m yours.”

That’s all he needs to hear. In one swift motion, he lifts you onto a surface, everything happening so fast you dont even know what he’s sat you on; all you can focus on is his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher as he moves between your legs. His lips are on your neck now, kissing, biting, leaving marks that you know will be there tomorrow. 

Your hands fumble with his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. When you finally get it off, you run your hands over the hard planes of his chest, savouring the way his muscles tense under your touch. Theo groans against your neck, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. But you don’t care. You want more. You need more.

“Theo,” you gasp, arching your back as his lips trail lower, his hands working quickly to undo the buttons of your blouse. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling it off and tossing it aside before his mouth finds your skin again.

He’s everywhere—his hands, lips, teeth—and it’s all too much, not enough. You’re dizzy with it, consumed by him, by the way, he touches you like he’s been starving for it. For you.

He only stops for a second, his lips not far from yours but far enough to speak, “I can’t take you in a broom closet, alright? Let’s go to my dorm; you’ll be more comfortable” he quickly says, almost out of breath. 

“Theo” you mutter “You can take me anywhere. Here’s just fine, please, I can’t wait anymore, please, I don’t want to waste another second” you whine, quickly joining your lips together again. 

He doesn’t protest; when he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. “You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “Fuck, no one else gets to touch you. Understand?”

You nod, your heart racing as you reach for him again, pulling him back to you. “Only you.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and there’s no going back this time.

Theo’s mouth crashes against yours with even more intensity, his hands gripping your hips as though he can’t stand the thought of being apart from you for even a second. It’s not just a kiss anymore—it’s a declaration of something raw and primal that neither of you have the strength to fight off any longer.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against you. You can feel the hard press of his body against yours, and it sends a wave of heat through you so intense it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, and your breath hitches as his fingers brush over the thin fabric of your underwear. You can feel the smirk on his lips as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough, eyes dark with desire as they roam over your flushed face. “All worked up for me, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

You want to come up with some smart reply, something to challenge him, but all that comes out is a soft whimper as his fingers tease the edge of your underwear, barely grazing where you need him most. Your body arches and pulses into his touch, silently begging for more, and Theo’s smirk deepens.

“Patience,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll give you what you want, but you must tell me what you want.”

Your pride screams at you not to give in, not to let him have that satisfaction, but the ache between your legs is too much. You need him, now. So, you swallow your pride, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

“Please, Theo. Please”

“Tsk tsk tsk, please, what? Come on, words, sweet thing,”

“I need you to touch me Teddy, need to feel you” You practically whimper 

Your pleading seems to flip a switch in him, and suddenly his teasing stops. His fingers slip under the fabric, brushing against your soaked core, and you gasp, your head falling back as the sensation sends sparks shooting through your body

“Good girl,” he growls, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Your hands grip his back exposed, your body trembling as his fingers work you over with an expert precision that makes it clear he’s been thinking about this for a long time. You can barely breathe, your mind going fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure as Theo’s thumb presses against your clit, drawing out a moan that you can’t hold back.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watches the way your body reacts to his touch. “Falling apart for me already. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers, send you spiralling closer and closer to the edge, your body tightening with the mounting tension. You can feel it building, coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall over the edge.

Theo must sense it too, because his pace quickens, his fingers moving faster, harder, and his lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as you cling to him. Your entire body is on fire, the pleasure so intense it feels like you might break apart at any second, and then, finally, you do.

The it hits you like a wave, crashing over you with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You cry out, your nails digging into Theo’s shoulders as your body trembles beneath him, completely lost in the sensation. Theo doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their steady rhythm as he helps you ride out every last shudder of pleasure. You can’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder.

By the time it finally fades, you’re left panting, your body limp and spent as you rest against the desk, your forehead pressed against Theo’s shoulder. He’s breathing hard too, his chest rising and falling in time with yours, but there’s a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice a low growl as he brushes a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “No one else. Ever.”

You nod, still catching your breath, your heart racing in your chest. “Only yours,” you whisper, and you mean it.

Theo leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and for a moment, the intensity between you softens. His hands, once rough and demanding, now hold you gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid of breaking you. And in this moment, you realise just how deep his feelings for you run, how much he’s been holding back.

“You don’t have to make me jealous to get my attention,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “You’ve had it from the start.”

You smile against his mouth, your hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss. It’s softer now, slower, but no less intense. Because even though Theo might be possessive and a little rough around the edges, you know that this, you, means more to him than he’s ever let on.

“Let's go to my dorm, alright? Get you cleaned up,” he smiles, leading you out of the now very messy broom cupboard. To your surprise, Anthony is waiting for you a few metres up; Theo moves your body to the other side of him so that it is Theo that is closest to him. When you both walk straight past him he casually says, “Don’t worry about that piece of shit, Ravenclaw, I’ll fix him up tomorrow.” You wondered if that should worry you, not a problem for right now though, your mind still racing with lust and love. 

The next morning, you wake up with a warm, almost surreal feeling in your chest. Everything feels different, like the air’s lighter, the world softer, and it’s all because of him. Theo. Yesterday's intensity, the way his hands gripped you like he’d never let go, still lingers on your skin like a secret that only the two of you share. You stretch out on your bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the memories replay in your head. You can’t help but smile as your body remembers the feeling.

But then, of course, reality hits you in the form of Pansy bloody Parkinson.

She barges into the dorm room with all the subtlety of a troll, her arms full of bags from her morning Hogsmeade run. Merlin, that girl has a shopping addiction. "Good morning, sunshine," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she drops the bags onto her bed. "You’re glowing. What did you do? Save a baby unicorn?"

You roll your eyes, pulling the covers up to your chin, trying to hide the ridiculous grin that’s threatening to spill across your face. But Pansy, being Pansy, is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out drama, and she narrows her eyes at you.

"Hold on," she says, pausing mid-unpacking, one perfectly manicured hand on her hip. "What is that look? That is not a ‘just got a full night’s sleep’ look. That is a someone rocked my world last night look."

You burst into laughter, but it’s the nerves that I’m hiding something kind of laugh, and Pansy’s eyes widen like she’s hit the jackpot.

"No fucking way." She abandons her bags completely, climbing onto your bed and sitting cross-legged before you. "Spill. Now."

You bite your lip, wondering how in Merlin's name you’re going to explain this without sounding completely insane. But then again, it’s Pansy. There’s no hiding anything from her, and part of you wants to tell her, to relive every second of it by saying it out loud. So, you do.

"It was Theo," you admit quietly, your heart racing as the words leave your mouth. "Yesterday. We… we hooked up."

Pansy’s jaw drops so hard you’re pretty sure you hear it hit the floor. "Theo? As in Theo Nott? The same Theo who’s been brooding over you for months and never made a move?"

You nod, feeling your face heat up under her gaze. "Yeah, that Theo."

For a moment, Pansy is entirely silent, just staring at you like she’s processing this monumental piece of information. Then, suddenly, she lets out a shriek so loud it probably wakes up half the castle.

"Holy shit!" she squeals, grabbing your hands and bouncing on the bed like an excited child. "I knew it! I fucking knew he had it bad for you! So? Was it amazing? Was he, like, all dominating and rough like I always imagined? Tell me everything!"

You laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you think about last night—the way Theo touched you, the way he claimed you, like he’d been holding back for so long and finally couldn’t anymore.

"It was…" You pause, searching for the right word. "Intense. And, yeah, he was definitely possessive. He kept saying I was his."

Pansy squeals again, throwing herself back onto the bed dramatically. "I knew it! I knew that brooding, quiet thing was just a front. Ok, you’re my best friend you owe me the whole story, Don’t miss a detail."  as you explain step by step you watch her eyes widen and her smile grow

Before you can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. Matteo and Blaise stroll in without waiting for an invitation, looking far too smug for your liking. Blaise immediately heads for Pansy’s bed, flopping down like he owns the place, while Matteo leans against the dresser, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"What’s with the giddy shrieks?" Blaise asks, raising an eyebrow. "You two plotting something evil this early in the morning? We haven’t even had breakfast yet"

Pansy rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. We don’t need to plot evil. It just comes naturally."

Matteo snickers, but his eyes flick to you, narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute… what’s going on? Why does she look all… flustered?"

Before you can even think of a response, Pansy, being the absolute traitor that she is, jumps in with, "Oh, didn’t you hear? Our girl here finally got some action. With Theo."

Matteo and Blaise both freeze, staring at you in shock. For a split second, there’s dead silence, and then, like a synchronised team, they both throw their heads back and shout, "Finally!"

Your eyes widen as Blaise shakes his head in disbelief. "I was starting to think you two would just brood at each other for the rest of eternity."

Matteo crosses the room, sitting on the edge of your bed and giving you a playful shove. "Took you long enough."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Can everyone just stop? This is mortifying."

"Mortifying?" Matteo laughs. "No, what’s mortifying is how long you two have been dancing around each other. Honestly, I’m just relieved one of you finally made a move."

Blaise leans back against Pansy’s bed, smirking. "Yeah, we’ve been placing bets on when it would happen. Matteo won, by the way."

You look up, horrified. "You’ve been betting on us?"

"Of course we have," Pansy says, grinning. "It’s been, like, the slowest burn of the century."

You sigh, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. As much as they’re embarrassing you right now, there’s something comforting in the way your friends are reacting—like they’ve all been rooting for this to happen as much as you have.

Blaise stands, giving you a teasing salute. "Well, I’ll leave you to bask in your post-Theo high. Just… try not to kill each other, yeah?"

Matteo follows him out the door, tossing one last look over his shoulder. "Finally."

Once they’re gone, you collapse back onto the bed, shaking your head. "I can’t believe them."

Pansy grins, lying next to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can. We’ve been watching this unfold for ages. I’m so happy for you."

“Thank you Pans”, you smile, turning as you lay closer next to her 

“Oh! I heard the most unusual thing this morning. Draco told me,” she starts 

“Go on” you giggle 

“That Anthony Goldstein practically crawled to the hospital wing this morning, black eye, bloody shirt, it seemed pretty ruff” she continued “wait, weren't you sitting by him just yesterday?” you remembered. 

Oh, Theo, he did indeed ‘take care of it’.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple, until it isn't so simple anymore.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: James x Lily mentioned, "unrequited" love, idiots in love, swearing, violence, harassment, crying, arguments, protective!james, jealous!james, stupid!james, Lily isn't a villain—pls i love her!

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You know two things for certain—

You're head over heels in love with James. 

He's head over heels in love with Lily.  

In the beginning, you saw the entire situation as some messy game of cat & mouse, and you'd been determined to win. You had foolishly been convinced Lily didn't like James in any way. It never seemed like she had any interest in him. 

And James? Well, James adored your attention. It very clearly sparked his already enormous ego, and you couldn't deny you liked the thrill of him liking your shameless flirting. 

It was fun and harmless while it lasted and it seemed like there was a mutual understanding to both pretend you didn't notice the stolen looks, or shy smiles, the feel of his hand brushing yours in the hallway, the small written notes in class, or the letters he'd sent over the summer…and of course the present he'd left you for your 17th birthday; a small, necklace with expensive tiny rubies. 

It felt surreal. 

It was surreal because the moment you find out James has been dating Lily since Christmas break you feel sick. "Lily? Lily Evans?" You ask your friends, almost choking on your scrambled eggs. 

"Yeah. Apparently, Marls said that Lily kissed James in the Common Room after his practice yesterday," Mary says, immersed in the gossip, "Either way, I heard from Sirius Black that they've been inseparable ever since New Year. He says it's rather annoying."

You hear her muffle a yelp as Pandora kicks her shin from underneath the table. "Oh, I forgot you like James, Y/n," Mary says and sends you a sympathetic smile. 

You feel crushed inside but you force a smile, "Me? Oh, please. I can find so much better than Potter. He was just a silly crush," you swat your hand in the air, "I'm already over him," you say.

Pandora doesn't look like she believes you but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she and Mary let you sit in silence and pretend not to know you're unintentionally staring at James and his friends from across the dining hall. 

James is laughing and your chest tightens. He seems over the moon as he has his arm around Lily's shoulder and she looks at him with a look you've never seen her wear. She actually looks like she's enjoying his jokes now. 

You can't help yourself as you start to compare yourself to Lily. You chew on your nails as you start to remember every insecurity you've ever had and you feel miserable.

You aren't really supposed to feel miserable, you reason, deep down you knew James wasn't yours. He was always hers. He was just waiting for her to claim him and you were a silly distraction.

You pry your eyes away from James and Lily when he stands up. You think he sees you for a moment because you can feel his stare. However, when you lift your head and make eye contact for a moment. James's expression is unreadable and he's the first to turn his head. He grins and continues his conversation with Lily as you're frozen in time.

"Y/n?" Mary calls your name and time resumes.

"Yeah?" you whisper, composing yourself and crossing your arms on the table. 

"Here," she hands you a crumpled-up note and points behind her, "It's from Danny."

You take the note from Mary and tilt your head to see Danny Dulac staring at you from the Slytherin table. Danny Dulac is the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He's tall, extremely smart, and has the silkiest blond hair. 

Danny sends you a smile and motions toward the paper in your hand which reads:

~I heard Potter is out of the picture now. Does this mean you're free for a Butterbeer on Saturday?~

You think it's a joke but when you look up, Danny looks dead serious. Mary leans over and when she sees the note over your shoulder, she exclaims, "Oh my Merlin, Danny just asked you out!" she pushes on your shoulder excitedly and you shush her. 

You stare at the cursive and your mind races. You spent so many years liking James that it had never even crossed your mind that you could like other boys, or that they could like you. 

"Well? Answer him," Pandora insists and makes a little circle motion with her hand. 

Once you find a quill from inside your book-bag, you reply with a small, enthusiastic, 

~Yes!~

* * *

Over the week leading up to Saturday, you try to pretend James and Lily don't exist. 

It's much easier than you imagined because you have Danny's to pay attention to now. Turns out Danny Dulac is a gentleman who carries your books in the hallway and compliments you whenever he has the chance. 

You don't feel the loss you felt when you found out James and Lily kissed—at least not when James isn't staring at you from afar. You knew James wasn't that fond of Danny—being the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and all—but ever since Danny has been hanging around you it seems like James can't stand the guy. 

It's confusing, especially because James hasn't made any attempts to talk to you since his relationship with Lily became public. 

You sit in Potions next to Marlene when Remus Lupin comes up to you. "Y/n?" he asks in a quiet voice and you look up at him, "It's from James," he shows you the note in his hand and you stare at it like it's one of James's stupid pranks. 

You thank Remus and open it anyway, 

~Meet me at Hogsmeade on Saturday?~

Without a word to Remus, you scribble an answer, 

~I have a date~

You fold the torn parchment and hand it to Remus. You watch him walk back to James and Sirius. When James sees you've actually written him a response, his eyes sparkle and he hides a smile. However, his smile disappears once he reads the contents and you’ve never seen him so perturbed. 

He starts to scribble on the paper and, with his eyes focused on you, hands it to Remus. 

Remus shakes his head adamantly so James then tries to hand it to Sirius, who also shakes his head. James's last option is Peter but the poor boy has fallen asleep on his Potions book. 

You smile. Your attention is pulled from them when you see Danny next to you.

"Hi," he smiles.

"Hi," you answer and the last thing that could possibly be on your mind is James Potter. 

* * *

You pull at the hem of your dress and adjust your jumper nervously. Danny has just made the same joke he made a few hours earlier and you really try and force out another chuckle. 

"You ok? You look a little warm," Danny says foam from the beer lays across his upper lip.

You blink. You like him, you try to convince yourself, he's smart and super handsome and he carries your books for Merlin's sake— 

"I'm completely fine, continue?" you smile sweetly and lean in towards him from across the table. You want to look interested.

Danny smirks and looks around. "Wanna go somewhere quieter?" 

No, you want to say. You won't want to go anywhere with him because that means you have to listen to him some more and he's oh so boring.

Only you don't say no, you say, "Sure," and allow him to take your hand.

Once you've found a small, empty corner of The Three Broomsticks, Danny pushes you to the wall. His hand is resting near your forehead and he leans in as if he wants to kiss you. You panic and push him away, "Oh I'm super warm actually. One second," You turn and your hands tremble as you pull your jumper over your head and let it slide down your arms. 

Danny looks a little annoyed when you turn back around. His eyes lower and he frowns, "Pretty' necklace. Who's it from?" he points out and you look down. 

James's necklace.

"Oh. A friend," you say dismissively and rush to unclip it as it falls into your hands.

"A friend huh?" Danny crosses his arms, "Is it from Potter?"

You feel your cheeks become warm. Why would he ask that? You aren't sure what expression you're making but it cannot be a normal one.

"No!" you say and Danny yanks the necklace from your hands. Your heart sinks as you try to take it back instantly.

Danny holds it away from you, making you feel small, "You can't keep this." 

"Why not? It's mine," your lip wobbles.

"Because it's from him and he has a girl. It's completely inappropriate." 

You lower your arm and your heart hurts. Is Danny right? Maybe you have thrown away the necklace as soon as you found out about James and Lily? Why are you still wearing it? 

"Plus, if you want to be my girl you'll throw away this dirty necklace," Danny snarls as he runs his fingers along the silver chain. You freeze. 

"What?" you can't believe he just said that. 

"What?" Danny counters. He seems confused at your sudden shift in tone. 

"I am not your girl. I don't want to be your girl."

"Bullshit, Y/n," Danny rolls his eyes and stuffs your necklace into his robe. He walks closer, this time menacingly, and you feel stuck. Your hands press against the wall and you look at him. Your eyes brim with tears, mostly in hopes he'll leave you alone when he sees them. Danny just raises his hand and harshly brushes them away with his thumb, "You should feel lucky someone like me even likes you," he smirks. 

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut and you stutter, "Get away from me."

"No," Danny says and leans in. Only, he's suddenly ripped from in front of you and you inhale, surprised. You blink as Danny stumbles when someone seizes his collar. You feel someone else's hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at them. 

"Are you okay?" Kind, considerate, Lily Evans whispers, concerned at your tears.

"What the fuck?!" You hear a loud crack as Danny groans in pain. You look towards the sound and see James Potter take Danny's collar again, his knuckles already stained a little crimson. James looks furious. 

"Did you hurt her?" he hisses and shakes Danny like it's nothing.

Lily soothes you by rubbing your shoulders and she calls James's name as a warning.

"Hurt her? We're on a date, Potter. She wanted it," Danny snarls and you wince. You didn't want it. James looks at you and Lily from the corner of his eye and his heart breaks when he sees your expression.

"Fucking nutter!" James exclaims and punches Danny in the stomach. This time, Danny doesn't just take the hit. Instead, he tackles James and they trip onto the ground. Lily screams at her boyfriend and you scream Danny's name. 

You try to pull Danny away from James but it's only when you hear a loud crack as Danny lands on his left thigh that he pauses. You gasp, covering your mouth with your hands, which makes James pause and he looks confused as Danny pulls out your necklace from inside his robe. The small rubies have shattered and when Danny opens his hand, the chain and the shards drop onto the ground. 

He stands and taunts, "Some gift, huh Potter?" James's expression falls. 

 You crouch down, scooping the, now completely ruined, necklace into your palms. You try to hold in your tears and the world around you turns silent as you look at your present. "Shut it," You hear Lily snap at Danny and she doesn't hesitate to help you stand. Her arm holds yours and she looks almost as furious as James. 

"She's crying because of you, you prat! Does that make you feel good about yourself, huh?" James points out with frustration.

You know he means well, but it doesn't help that he basically announced to the entirety of The Three Broomsticks that you're in tears. You sniffle and look at Danny. His blue eyes shine with a mixture of embarrassment, pity, shame, and resentment.

"Whatever," he just snarls, "She's not worth it. She never was," he says as if you aren't standing directly in front of him. 

"You piece of shit," James hisses but Lily interrupts him.

"James. No," she scolds like a mother and James whips his head around to glare at her.

Instead, he makes eye contact with you and his face falls once more. His posture softens and, to your surprise, he doesn't move when Danny bumps his shoulder to leave. 

"I'm sorry, James," you say sadly, still holding his present. 

He looks confused and tilts his head as walks closer to you. Murmurs drift around the room as students continue to watch the scene. Lily looks around, seemingly just as uncomfortable as you, and James does the same. 

He gestures to the door and raises one of his eyebrows in a question. Lily nods. Quietly, you follow them outside and as you walk.

James and Lily somehow find their way next to each other. It's almost automatic for them and your heart breaks. Lily whispers into James's ear and his eyes glance at you. You look away, insecurities burning your chest. 

"You okay?" Lily asks, turning around when you start to fall back behind them.

You hum and pick at your nails, "I- I'm gonna go," you mutter. Lily wants to protest but, without a word, you stand before James and let the broken necklace fall into his open hands.

He looks at you with wide eyes and then clutches his hand around the necklace so fiercely. He shakes his head and your name leaves his lip but you don't wait for him to continue. You turn to leave—what can he possibly say now that will make you feel better?

"I like you!" His voice resonates in your ears as your breath leaves you. You turn around, almost hurting your neck. You couldn't have heard him correctly. Your eyes bounce to Lily but she doesn't look hurt. She doesn't even look surprised. Instead, she sends you a small smile.

You blink, "Pardon me?" You walk a little closer to James, "You like me? As in romantically or as a person?"

James starts to stutter, "R-romantically."

You look towards Lily, bewildered. "But, you're dating her!" 

  James turns to look at Lily just as she speaks up, "No, we broke up. We didn't even last more than maybe two weeks, Y/n." She laughs, "You two should really talk—" 

James nods at her and then turns to you once more. His arms stretch out as if he wants to make sure you won't run away from him. "Please, Y/n. Hear me out." He sounds so small and for someone with such a big personality, you're suddenly afraid.

You find yourself nodding slowly and let him lead you behind The Three Broomsticks. James lets you lean against the wall and then he nervously runs a hand in his hair.

"James, I don't understand," you say quietly, "You like Lily. You have always liked Lily—I was always just some girl you entertained because you liked the attention. I've always known that."

James's face falls as he listens to you and you see his hands hesitate towards you. "You were never just some girl," he says adamantly.

You frown, "Yes, I was."

"No, you weren't," His voice rises and you press your back against the wall, staring at him as he explains, "Listen, I ended things with Lily. It was my decision. I realized I couldn't stay with her and do you want to know why?" 

You shake your head instantly but he tells you anyway. 

"Because she wasn't you. She didn't make me feel as full as you always do. When she laughed, I never had the same butterflies in my stomach," James pressed his hand to his chest, "My heart didn't feel compressed in my chest whenever I looked at her. I didn't blush at her compliments like I would yours, or want her to smile only because of me. Just like you used to. Bloody hell, I thought of you when I kissed her."

Your entire body feels warm as embarrassment washes over you. "Why did you then?" your voice breaks, "Why did you put me through that? You knew what I felt for you and you chose Lily anyway. How can I trust you now, James?"

You watch his lip tremble as he looks at you with his doleful brown eyes and your heart shatters for the fourth time this hour alone. 

"I don't know," he buries his face in his hands, making an exasperated sound, " I know that answer isn't good enough for you, and I know I can't take back the pain you felt when you saw me with her. I do know that." 

You don't know what to answer. 

James runs a hand over his jaw and looks at you, "I suppose I couldn't let the fantasy go," he admits in a whisper. 

You turn your head away, "Y-yeah—Lily Evans, the fantasy. I understand." 

"W-what? No, that isn't what I meant!" James assures you, "I've been stuck on Lily for years. I know I didn't see you, but—but I see you now."

You stare at him. He looks so upset that your anger turns into pity, "James—"

"Y/n, please don't reject me. I can't bear it," his voice breaks as his eyes water. He walks closer and drops the broken necklace he'd given you in your palm. Your hand closes around it without thinking. "I've been such an idiot but I can't imagine losing you like this."

"You lost me the moment I saw you with Lily. You don't deserve to have me—not like this, and definitely not anymore," you say sternly and watch as you break the heart of the boy you're madly in love with. 

"James, you strung me along for months and months, and then threw me away without hesitation for her. If you liked me, you would have never let me cry over you for weeks," your voice becomes louder. 

James's hurt expression twists and his eyes darken, "You spent your days with Danny Dulac for fucks sake! What the hell was I supposed to do?" he also raises his voice.

"You aren't allowed to be jealous!" you say and push your index into his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks, "You ruined this," your voice dies as your hand flattens on his chest and he grasps it in his. James pulls you closer and leans his head onto yours. 

For a moment, you let it rest there, but then you pull away. "I can't do this," you mutter, "you only want what you can't have, James," you whisper and you know your words would hurt him but you don't care. You hear him call your name as you walk away from him.

* * *

Over the next few months, it's as if you and James never existed. 

You don't speak in class and when James wants to talk outside of classes, you ignore him. Eventually, he stops trying. He doesn't go back to Lily like you'd expected him to. Instead, time goes by, you both graduate, and it isn't until Marlene's 21st birthday that you see James Potter again.

He's in the middle of a small crowd: his smile as bright and wide as you remember. He's laughing like he would in school and you stand to the side of the room, suddenly unsure what to do with yourself.  

When James sees you, his smile falters for a moment. He looks you up and down and when his eyes land on the necklace you're wearing, his heart thumps in his chest and he can't help but wander over to you. You almost run from him, but enough time has passed for you to stay still.

"Hi," James says, looking into your eyes. 

You look up, your voice merely a whisper, "Hi." 

Weirdly, conversation flows easily. You talk about work, hobbies, and eventually you land on relationships. Somehow you've found each other in a secluded side of the room, you're leaning against the wall as James's arm rests near your head. It isn't confrontational—no, instead you feel safe caged in his strong arms. Your eyes train on the muscles of his arm—of course he plays Professional Quidditch now. You need to remind yourself to pay more attention to Quidditch from now on. 

"You seeing anyone?" James hums, his eyes flickering to your necklace again. You fiddle with it subconsciously and shake your head. 

"You?" 

James shakes his head too and he finally asks the question that's been burning his lips, "You fixed it," he raises his arm and his thumb skims the rubies. 

You hum and nod. "I did."

"Why?"

You laugh and look at James. "Because I love this necklace," you pause a moment and you whisper, "And it reminds me of someone."

   James seems surprised and he runs a hand in his curls. He looks at you and leans in a little. "C-can I?" he asks and a part of you wants to shake your head…tell him to fuck off. But, this is James Potter. He's the only boy you've ever loved—no matter who came after him. You nod and James's hand cups your cheeks as his lips press against yours. 

"I've been thinking of doing this for years," he says breathlessly through his kisses. 

I have too, you want to say but instead you just pull him closer. 

"I love you," James says suddenly and pulls away. He looks flustered as he tries to explain himself. "I- I never stopped."

You look at him and utter three words James didn't think he'd ever hear, "Neither did I." 

[worldlxvlys]

Hi honey can you do a text with Matt like he likes the reader and the reader likes him but they are to scared to confess and they make really sexual and suggestive comments and jokes to each other ✌🏼 I love you 💋 Matt is kinda subby and like touches himself to her messages imagining it’s real

Love you,🥰

I have a lot of ideas so just let me know if you need any 💋

texts w/ bsf! matt (part 2)

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, hand job, masturbation, fantasizing

a/n: pls don’t ever stop giving me ideas this ate

previous part !

want me to help ?

any sense of self-control that i had completely left my body when i saw the sentence.

i read it over again and again, trying to figure out whether she was joking or not.

as i let my mind wander, i began to palm myself through my boxers lightly.

i thought about her face, how pretty it would look scrunched up in pleasure, while she chased her orgasm.

suddenly, i felt my phone vibrate in my hand, bringing me back to reality while i began to read the text messages.

i’d spit on the tip and watch you squirm while it dripped down.

“fuck” i sighed out, rubbing myself through the thin material as i imagined her staring up at me, her hands massaging my thighs.

my hips jerked up into the air at the thought, almost as if i could feel her teasing touches.

part of me felt guilty, imagining my best friend’s face inches away from my dick.

but if she didn’t want me to, why would she send a text like that? when we’ve flirted in the past, it was usually all jokes.

but this felt different. maybe it was the morning wood and horny state that i woke up in causing me to misjudge her intentions, or maybe she was teasing me on purpose.

either way, i had no plans of stopping myself from basking in the moment.

besides, if i have my boxers on i’m not technically touching myself to the thought of her…..right ?

i’d give you a few good pumps, squeezing the base and twisting my hand around you.

god, what was she doing ?

i began to apply more pressure to my crotch, pushing and rubbing more and more aggressively.

she was driving me crazy, it’s almost as though she wanted me to drive over to her and fuck the living shit out of her.

and with that thought, i found my mind wandering off again.

i imagined the way she’d scream my name, the way her ass would jiggle while i fucked her from behind while her legs trembled.

then i’d swirl my tongue around the tip teasingly before taking you into my mouth.

she just loved to tease me. i wonder how she’d feel if the roles were reversed.

what would she do if i rubbed my dick against her thighs ? or her stomach ? each time, managing to just miss her pussy ?

would she be a moaning mess under me, whining and crying for me to do something ?

maybe she’d grab my hand, forcing me to pump myself a few times before finally pushing into her.

i’d take every inch of you, deep throating your cock.

i was so lost in my own world, i hadn’t even realized how close i was until i was bucking my hips up into my hand, with quick gasps and curse words flying out of my mouth.

“fuck, fuck, fuck” i whispered out as my hands flew around the sheets, desperately trying to find something to hold onto.

i let out a cry of her name as i came inside of my boxers, forming a wet spot on the light-colored material.

i took in a deep breath, attempting to calm myself when i got another message.

wouldn’t stop until you begged me to.

i’d let you cum all over my face while your legs shook and your body twitched.

i quickly pulled my boxers down, throwing them haphazardly across the room.

my hand immediately flew to my dick, spreading the remains of my orgasm around, making me let out a small whine.

i began to pump myself quickly, imagining how pretty she’d look while thick spurts of my seed flew onto her face.

my eyes were scrunched up, toes curling inward while i pushed through the overwhelming amount of pleasure building inside of me.

soft whimpers fell from my mouth, as the wet sounds of my hand sliding around my dick filled the room.

my head flew back as my phone fell from my hand and onto the bed.

i imagined her on top of me, bracing herself with her hands on my knees as she rode me.

“you wanted me so bad? getting off on my text messages like a little slut? sit there and take it”

“i can’t, it’s too much” i cried out, fisting the sheets as tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.

“you can and you will. take it”

i shook my head vigorously, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. “i can’t-” i started.

she’d loop her fingers into my hair, yanking my head towards her chest.

taking the hint, i’d bring my mouth to one of her tits swirling my tongue around her nipple.

i was ripped out of my fantasy quickly, as my hips began to stutter.

i let out an embarrassingly loud whine as my load spilled out of me, covering my abs and thighs.

my body trembled, muscles contracting and relaxing as the aftershocks ran through me.

“holy shit” i whispered as the reality of the situation hit me.

i just jerked off to my best friend’s text messages.

and that was the hardest i’d ever came before.

i fucked up.

🦋🦋🦋🦋

yayyy double update bc i love you <333

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[leclerc-hs]

wait for your love - cl16

pairing: arranged marriage!charles x fem!reader summary: in which you're in a fake marriage OR you and your fake husband might be in love with one another warnings: none?? no smut in this part (SORRY), badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD!, angst, pining???, jealousy, complicated feelings word count: 3.6k author's note: I'm still unsure how i feeeeel about this one but I tried my best!! I think writing about an arranged marriage is a little hard because i didnt want it to be mafia related so this was my take on it. there will be a second part!! i also want to mention that all these separate parts are just events that are little peaks into their marriage. it is not in the span of a week or anything, it takes place over time. they do not go from nothing to being in love in the span of one week. just wanted to make sure you guys were aware of that LOL. ok love u all. sorry if this sucks.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE MARRIAGE WAS merely a façade, designed solely to serve the interests of both of your media images. You weren’t in love—far from it…right?

“Charles! How are you and the beautiful Mrs. doing?” A reporter placed a microphone in his face, an eager grin pulled on his lips as he awaited an answer.

“Elle est tellement merveilleuse, n’est-ce pas?” She’s so wonderful, isn’t she? His gaze strayed from the reporter to where you stood a few feet down the carpet, posing for the dozens of cameras. “Tellement belle.”So beautiful.

His eyes remained transfixed on you, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as he watched you approach. The chatter of the reporter beside him became distant background noise, overshadowed by the sight of your radiant smile. With each step you took closer, a surge of warmth flooded through him, causing his heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Charles turned back to the reporter just as he said “Looks like she is making her way over here!”

“Salut beau gosse!” Hi handsome! You gently press your lips to his cheek, the warmth of your smile radiating as Charles’ face lights up upon feeling your kiss. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, a comforting and possessive touch that speaks volumes of his affection and protectiveness towards you. A united front.

“You guys are seriously too cute!” 

The both of you smile largely at the reporter, thanking him, before heading down the carpet to enter the movie premiere.

It wasn’t until you crossed through the main doors of the building that you drop the smile, and his hand drops from the small of your back.

“Tellement crédule.” So gullible. He utters the words briefly, prompting a nod from you before you take a small, deliberate step back, putting some distance between the two of you. 

-

You learned early into the arrangement that Charles wasn’t capable of love. His heart seemed barricaded behind the walls of his ambition, his sole focus on climbing up the ladder of success in his career. It seemed easy at first though, it’s not like the either of you had any feelings for each other.

“Assez!” Charles roared from behind his imposing oak desk, his voice echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” His words cut through the tense atmosphere like a thunderclap, commanding your attention and halting any further discourse with an authority that brooked no argument.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, the delicate sundress draped over your form swayed gracefully with each purposeful step towards his desk. His gaze, cold and piercing, met yours as you reached out, your fingertips lightly grazing the polished wood surface. Leaning in just slightly, you locked eyes with him.

“Je vais me répéter une fois de plus,” I will repeat myself once more. You declared, your tone carrying a hint of assertiveness. Tracing the edge of the desk with a meticulously manicured nail, you maintained your composure, refusing to yield under his scrutinizing stare. “You need to be more careful in public.”

Your cheeks flushed red with frustration, a stark contrast against the determined set of your jaw. Despite the tension, Charles couldn’t help but be captivated by just how stunning you appeared in that moment. He couldn’t tell if he hated you or just wanted to fuck you.

He scoffed before reclining back in his chair, the top buttons of his shirt carelessly undone. His tousled hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times—or perhaps someone else had.

He watched as your eyes traced along his disheveled hair and the partially undone buttons of his shirt, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Jealous, mon ange?” He teased; voice laced with amusement. Now it was your turn to scoff.

Mon ange. Him and that stupid nickname.

“Jamais.” Never. You replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you turned around. With a subtle sway of your dress, it raised slightly, offering him a glimpse of the lace set beneath it. Without another word, you walked out of the room, leaving him to ponder just how badly he wanted to remove that dress from your body.

He always resented how you seemed impervious to his charms. No matter his efforts, you remained aloof, seemingly untouched by his presence. It bothered him to no end. To him, you were an epitome of perfection, a constant reminder of his own shortcomings.

-

“Es-tu affamé?” Are you hungry?

You didn’t care if he was. You just needed to distract yourself from the fact he never came home last night. From the fact that he came home obviously smelling like another woman.

The marks on his neck had your throat feeling tight. Marks from another woman. Marks on your husband.

You tried your best to ignore the dark purple marks littered on his neck, and the tiredness in his eyes as he plopped down on the chair across from you. The umbrella in the center of the table, protecting you both from the bright sun as you sit beside the pool.

“Non, simplement fatigué.” Just tired.

You nodded slowly, your movements languid as you bit into a strawberry, its juices trickling carelessly past your lips and trailing down your neck in a sensuous cascade.

Charles couldn’t help but allow his gaze to follow the path of the juice, his eyes tracing its journey down your neck, almost reaching the enticing curve of your breasts.

You made no effort to wipe away the trail of juice, the glistening droplets lingering on your skin like a tantalizing invitation. With a knowing smile, you relish in the anticipation, fully aware of the effect it had on Charles. Men, they’re too easy.

“You should cover up those marks.” You bit into the rest of the strawberry, before standing from the table, preparing to dip into the pool. Charles hands reached out as you walked by him, his fingers dipping into the strings of the bikini bottoms at your hips. 

His touch seared through you like a branding iron, leaving a scorching trail of sensation in its wake. 

“Est-ce que ç ate derange?” Does it bother you? He looked up at you, his face serious.

The words felt like lead in your throat, heavy with unspoken truth. It didn’t bother you, did it? But deep down, it gnawed at you like a persistent ache, an undeniable discomfort you refused to acknowledge.

“No.” You attempted to push out of his grip, to no avail. “Lâche-moi.” Let go of me. He didn’t.

Never, is what he wanted to say.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned; his eyebrows scrunched as he looked up at you from his chair.

Your hands slipped around his wrists that rested on your hips. “Rien ne va pas.” Nothing is wrong. He cocked his head to the side, as if to say liar. You finally pull out of his grasp, walking towards the pool and jumping in.

End of discussion.

-

“Did you really need to eye fuck her the whole night?” You half-shouted in the passenger seat of his car, the cool leather seats contrasting with the warmth of your bare thighs clad in the mini skirt.

“Did you really take that guy’s number?” He half-shouted back, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. 

“What’s wrong with taking his number?”

There was nothing wrong with taking his number. You both agreed you can date other people if it was kept under the wraps. But despite the coolness of the leather against your skin, it did little to quell the agitation simmering within Charles.

Perhaps it was the rarity of you into dating others. It wasn’t that you couldn’t attract men; in fact, men often vied for your attention. Rather, it was your own inclination against one-night stands that set you apart. Charles concluded in that moment that this must be the reason for his discomfort. And considering you had finally shown interest in someone, did it imply he was special?

“Tout le monde remarque!” Everyone noticed!  He spat out the words, unable to conjure a coherent response in his frustration. Deep down, he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with simply exchanging numbers.

You laughed, a carefree melody that seemed to dance through the car, causing you to lean forward over your lap. The casualness of your reaction grated against Charles, intensifying his frustration. How could you be so nonchalant about accepting another man’s number? The knot of unease in his stomach tightened, gnawing at him with a persistence he couldn’t comprehend.

“So?” You turned towards him; his eyes were focused solely on the road. “It’s not like I fucked him in front of everybody.”

Charles head snapped briefly towards you; his eyes narrowing with sharp intensity. The mere thought of you being intimate with another man felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard, setting his teeth on edge with raw, visceral discomfort.

Why was he so bothered? It’s not like he doesn’t fuck other girls.

-

“Où vas-tu?” Where are you going? You found yourself stood in the archway of the kitchen; Charles leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of water in his hand. 

His eyes trailed down your figure, a short black dress that hugged your curves. He felt his patience wearing thin as he watched you engrossed in your phone screen, fingers tapping away and a large smile on your face. 

Who were you texting?

“Hm?” You said, still smiling down at your screen. “Où vas-tu?” He egged on, his tone dripping with impatience at your lack of an answer.

“Oh, j’ai un rendez-vous.” I have a date. You tore your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you came downstairs. Lifting your eyes, you met Charles with an infectious smile spreading across your face. The sheer warmth and joy emanating from you caused Charles’s heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm.

A date? He felt sick.

Charles remained silent for a few moments, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand betraying the turmoil within him. The sudden crash of the glass hitting the kitchen floor startled you both, causing a shared flinch as shards slid across the tiled surface.

“What about my event tonight?” He disregarded the broken glass around him, his attention consumed by the word “date” echoing relentlessly in his mind.

“Pretend I’m sick or something,” You tilt your head in confusion. “You’ve gone to events without me before.”

It wasn’t until you went to make a step towards the broken glass that Charles snapped out of it. “Don’t come near, tu pourrais te faire mal.” You could get hurt.

The words made you stop in your tracks and your heart clench slightly.

“Je dois y aller.” I must go.

Your eyes meet Charles one last time, you offer him a small smile before pulling your phone to your ear and answering it with a smile.

Leaving Charles alone in the kitchen, the lingering question of when this feeling would dissipate hung heavily in the air.

“Je ne veux pas que tu partes.” I don’t want you to go. He muttered to nobody but himself in the empty house.

-

You went on a relentless series of dates since then, each time returning home with a grin that seemed to mock Charles. He longed to wipe that smug smile off your face, but deep down, all he truly desired was to see you genuinely happy. Yet, the idea of your happiness being derived from someone else filled him with a sense of dread he couldn’t shake.

One night, Charles felt his sanity slipping as he anxiously waited for your return, each passing minute amplifying his restlessness. Was this what you did when he was away?

His unease peaked when you finally walked through the door well past noon, wearing a smile that seemed out of place and with your hair tousled, a stark departure to your usual pristine appearance. A faint, barely perceptible mark gracing your collarbone served as Charles’ triggering a tumult of emotions within him.

“Did you fuck him?” His voice was gruff as he walked up to you by the front door, essentially cornering you between the front door and his body.

Your eyes widened at his tone and question.

“Cela ne te regarde pas!” That’s none of your business! You shouted, your finger pressing into his chest.

His eyes blazed with fury, the green in them almost appearing black. “C’est tout à fait de mon affaire!” It’s all of my business! 

He was aware of his irrationality, but despite that knowledge, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming emotions stirring within him. All he wanted was for the burning ache in his chest to subside.

“Ce n’est pas juste.” That’s not fair. You countered, your narrowed eyes reflecting your simmering anger, your chest flushing red with frustration as you breathed heavily.

“Tu es ma femme.” You are my wife. He folded his arms firmly across his chest, the sinewy muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his imposing presence.

You rolled your eyes, “C’est faux.” It’s fake. The words almost hurt to say aloud.

“Is it?” His words were short as he looked down at you, his gaze unfaltering, almost begging you to admit that there is something between you two.

“Oui.”

You pushed past him, rushing up the stairs and slamming your bedroom door shut.

-

You didn’t always fight though. There were good and bad days. Almost like a real marriage, right?

“Mon ange, wear the blue one.” His voice came from a distance as he sat on the edge of your bed, surrounded by the chaos of your closet. You felt a sense of panic wash over you, unable to find solace in any garment you tried on. You couldn’t even decide on a color.

“You always look good in that one, yeah?” He continued; his tone almost absentminded. Despite your turmoil, his words elicited a small smile, causing a faint blush to rise on your cheeks. Grateful that he couldn’t witness your reaction, you silently thanked whatever higher power existed. You vowed never to let him see you blush from his words.

You stepped out from your closet a few moments later, the blue silk dress that left little to the imagination of your breasts, with a small thankful smile on your face. Charles felt his hands itching to touch you as you leaned over the vanity, applying a last coat of lip gloss.

“Prête?” Ready? You turned back towards him, the small pebble of your nipples poking through the thin fabric, a sight that momentarily arrested Charles’s attention. With an effort, he tore his gaze away, clearing his throat discreetly before nodding in response and leading you out the house.

“Pourquoi cela?” What is this for? You quickly ask about the purpose of tonight over the low murmur of the radio as Charles pulls into the valet area of the event.

“It’s for charity,” He swung open his car door, the faint sound of camera clicks filling the air in the moment it remained ajar before he swiftly closed it again. With a sense of urgency, he hurried around the car to open your door, his movements a flurry of activity as he sought to ensure your comfort.

Tonight, he remained steadfastly by your side, his attention solely focused on you, his wife. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, even as other females vied for his attention with near desperation. It was a departure from his usual behavior, as if he finally decided to listen to your complaints.

“Tu es magnifique.” You look beautiful. He muttered into your ear, his words meant for you alone, shielded from prying cameras. It caught you off guard—a genuine compliment, untainted by presence of the reporters or observers.

-

“Mon ange, regarde tes cheveux!” Look at your hair! Charles laughter filled the kitchen, reverberating off the walls with a hearty resonance. It wasn’t long until you joined in, your laughter mixing with his in symphony. The sight of both of you covered in flour from your baking rendezvous added a touch of whimsy to the moment, the white powder dusting your hair like a playful snowfall.

You stepped closer towards him, a playful pout forming on your lips, while he looked down at you with a twinkle in his vibrant green eyes. The intensity of the green hue in his eyes was so striking that it caused your stomach to flutter with nervous anticipation.

You noticed his eyes briefly flicker to your lips before meeting with yours again. A silent ask.

His flour dusted fingertips rested against your jaw, holding your face in the palm of his hands, while his eyes flickered to your lips again. 

“Laisse-moi t’embrasser, s’il te plait.” Let me kiss you, please. His words were so quiet, as if you both were secluded in your own bubble. You didn’t answer as your eyes trailed all over his face. As if you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Ne me fais pas supplier.” Don’t make me beg.

He could feel the rapid pace of your heart, almost beating out of your chest as he uttered the words. You nodded in response, but before you could even finish the nod, his lips crashed into yours.

It was anything but gentle. As if, you both had waited years to be able to do this without a camera in your presence.

His tongue slipped into your mouth almost instantly, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips and melded with his own. He groaned in response, his arms encircling your waist to draw you closer, pressing you flush against his chest before guiding your back against the messy countertop. One hand found its place against the nape of your neck and jawline, holding your head in place with gentle insistence. Meanwhile, the other hand tenderly played with the ends of your hair before wrapping them around his fist, holding your hair firmly yet tenderly.

“Si doux.” So sweet. He murmured against your lips; his breath warm against your skin as he continued to savor the moment. 

Your hands instinctively wrapped around his biceps, holding him close, though he showed no inclination to pull his body away from yours.

His lips trailed along your jawline as he pulled the ends of your hair, lulling you head back to give him more access to your neck. Another soft moan left your lips, escaping into the kitchen, as he sucked on the spot where that mark once was.

“Drive me crazy, mon ange.” He muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your neck, along your jawline, until he met your lips again with a soft peck.

Your eyes met his and you could’ve sworn you would’ve dropped to your knees right then and there for him. 

The distant ring of a cell phone was heard in the background, immediately causing you to push him away from you. Your cellphone.

You looked at Charles with a sense of panic. What were you doing?

As if Charles could sense that panic, he brushed off the pain with a small smile. “Tu devrais répondre à ça.” You should answer that.

-

You didn’t see Charles for a few days following the kiss. 

“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here? Charles eyebrows were furrowed as he took in your figure standing before him, an unnamed bag in hand.

You shook the bag in your hand, “Déjeuner.” Lunch. You waved the bag around like it was no big deal. Like you didn’t come all the way to Maranello to bring your fake husband lunch.

You found yourself unsure of the exact reason behind your actions, yet you did it anyways. With Charles away for the past few days, leaving you alone at home, a peculiar sense of longing seemed to linger in the air. Though you refused to admit it outright, all indications hinted at a quiet, yearning for his presence that you got so accustomed to over time.

“Tu n’avais pas besoin de le faire.” You didn’t need to. A smile pulled on his lips as he slung his arm over your shoulder, grateful for the sight of you.

“Je m’ennuyais.” I was bored. You confessed with a shrug, a hint of sheepishness coloring your tone.

He pulled you into an empty room, wordlessly. Instructing you to take a seat as he grabbed two waters from the nearby fridge.

“Comment se passe le travail?” How’s work? You asked, although your inquiry was more out of habit than genuine interest. Since the kiss, you found yourself at a loss for how to engage with him, unsure of how to navigate the shifting dynamics between you two.

He chuckled softly, choosing to settle into a chair beside you rather than sitting across from you, as if he wanted to be close to you. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. He confessed quietly, his tone revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed with you.

The tips of your ears flushed with a rosy hue in response to his confession, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze softened as you reached into the bag, delicately arranging the food on the table before him, each movement infused with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

“C’est bon.” It’s okay. He muttered, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. “I know you missed me too.”  A smirk pulled on his lips as you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. 

You didn’t deny it.