#similarly with the body of the reader in my case
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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago
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omg I saw your tags about white-coded y/n and I agree so much! honestly, finding out an author is poc is such a huge green flag for me bc I know I won't get halfway thru a fic and be slapped in the face by the realization that y/n is clearly white
I can understand. While I've read and interacted with white authors who are inclusive in their writing, I understand having reservations or even seeking out explicitly PoC! Reader fics. It just feels nice to be seen sometimes and, for white not to be the default.
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mickyschumacher · 11 months ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.
That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.
His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.
Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.
A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.
Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.
"Is the car really that fast?"
"Can I go in the car?!"
"I hope you win!"
You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.
The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.
You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.
The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.
Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.
The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.
You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.
The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"
You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.
The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.
You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"
The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.
"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."
The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.
You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.
Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.
You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."
The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.
You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.
You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.
You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.
Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.
You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.
All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.
Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.
But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.
Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.
God, he was an animal. The worst.
"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.
Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.
"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."
You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.
Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."
Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?
You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.
Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."
Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.
"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.
Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.
"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.
Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."
Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.
Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.
"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.
Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.
"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.
Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.
You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.
You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.
Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.
Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.
"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.
"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.
"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.
Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.
Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.
He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.
Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.
A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.
You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.
"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?
You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.
Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.
Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.
"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.
"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.
Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.
Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.
He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.
Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.
"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.
You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.
Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.
You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"
Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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jaysng · 4 months ago
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when your daughter walks in on you | pjs
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pairing: husband!jay x wife!reader
genre: married au, comedy (tried my best), fluff
warnings: suggestive, jay sucking boobs like a madman
your husband has had an exhausting week and needed some way to relieve the stress he had related to his workplace. 
and that’s why, you were here know trapped in his hold in the kitchen, “missed you s’much baby” he said as he open mouthed-ly(?) tracing your neck leaving kissed and licks here and there til he reached your earlobe. 
as soon as you opened the door, he looked at you, yes with those goddamn eyes. next thing you know, you’re pulling him from his tie. “fuck can we do this? like in here—“ he asks as he lifts you up easily in one go and puts you on the counter“i have put her to sleep, use me all you want jay.” 
the approval was enough for jay to let his guard down as he dives in again attaching your lips with his, you were wearing a cute loose set of night wear with easy access, in one swift move he pulled your top down by the shoulders as he took a step back appreciating your mounds. 
giving each attention one by one, jay knew how needy you grew when he gave most of his attention to your chest he took your left nipple between his fingers and pinched it, fondling with the other one all while keeping eye contact.
“l-lick them jongseong, feels s’good when you do that” you said as you kept your hand on his, the one massaging your breast as he bend and took one of it in his mouth.
licking, sucking, making out messily with saliva everywhere as you arched your back with your hand on his hair and the other on your mouth to not disturb your ‘sleeping’ daugther. 
few minutes into it, jay felt your body really stiff, not squirming or whimpering anymore, maybe she’s too lost in i—
“appa don’t you think you’re abit to old to be doing that?” 
shit
shit
shit
oh fuck
his head shoots to the direction of the stairs as he sees your 4 year old daughter, half sleepy half astonished, wiping her eyes with her chubby hands. 
now standing straight, not knowing what to do he stares into blank space for a while then stares at you
blink
blink
“ah, yes.. baby uh…” you say breaking the silence as you thought, was better than the silence. “didn’t you say she’s asleep” he whispers, almost just mouths while shooting his big wide eyes at you. 
brushing a hand through your hair, you get of the counter “could’ve atleast pulled my shirt back up jay” you mouth another sentence at him blaming him in panic while fixing your top. 
“baby, weren’t you sleeping?” you ask as walk to her and run a hand over her head, “i dunno… eomma i heard sounds… breaking sounds! i thought bad people came in..” she says, still clumbsy with her words as you chuckled, 
“oh well, uh mommy and daddy were playing a game okay?” you mentally face palm yourself as you hear jay’s embarrassing made up excuse, still funny as even you were out of excuses— i mean what the hell would you tell your 4 year old daughter who just walked in on your husband with your titty in his mouth?? 
“hmm” she says as she looks around, honestly not taken aback or interested in it at all, thank god thank god she was in her sleepy state “i want ice cream” she demands as jay now picks her up in his arms.
the sigh of relief that left both of your mouth were synchronized, you knew your daughter and how she doesn’t process anything when she has just woken up, similarly and gladly this was the case as for what she just saw. 
“you can’t have ice cream baby, it’s midnight.” jay coos at her as she puts her face on jay’s neck and nods already drowsy and sleepy, you felt bad for her to be woken up and disturbed like that. 
shooting at sorry glance at jay who was pretty much sulky right now as the sexual tension was ‘ruined’ and probably not coming back again for today as your daughter was pretty much stuck by the glue to his chest as she slept.
putting her to bed, you entered the room as you found jay on the bed hands splayed around the bed, as the baby slept peacefully in her room now, the two of you exchanged knowing glances and started quietly chortling over what just happened
“a message would be good?” you say between the laughter sitting beside his laying figure putting his head on you lap. 
“massage it is.” he says, smiling with embarrassment.
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reiderwriter · 6 months ago
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🔐 Password Protected 🔐
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.
A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 
The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.
“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 
“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 
“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 
The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 
“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”
You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 
It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 
“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 
“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 
“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 
“Only because you know you're wrong.” 
They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 
“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 
His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 
You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.
Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 
When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 
“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 
“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 
He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 
Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 
“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 
You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 
“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 
“Yes?” 
“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 
You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 
“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 
“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 
“Where are your manners?” 
“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 
He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 
Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 
Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 
“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.
“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 
“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 
He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 
“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 
“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 
Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 
As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 
“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 
“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 
“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 
You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 
This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 
How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 
In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 
“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 
“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 
“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 
“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 
You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 
“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 
Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 
Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 
What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 
You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 
Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 
“Spencer, wh-” 
“Watch and see, princess.” 
The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 
If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 
Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 
You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 
“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 
You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 
“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 
You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 
Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 
“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 
His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 
“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 
“4….3���.2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 
“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 
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hadersversion · 3 months ago
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II. i can fix him (no really i can)
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“and i could see it from a mile away, a perfect case for my certain skillset.”
pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader
word count: ?? (NOT PROOFREAD)
warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn
masterlist!
it has been a week since my last interaction with rafe cameron.
"i'm here to see you."
those five words rang out through my head in every instance it possibly could. walking to work, brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed, in the shower. it felt like he was an annoying bug buzzing in my ear.
the bell to the gas station opens and i straighten my posture, trying to push the thoughts of rafe to the back of my head.
"hey, y/n." i see pope's head pop through the aisles as he searches for something.
i smile at him. "hey there, pope. what brings you in here today?"
i watch as he walks down each aisle, mentally scratching things off his list. "the guys and i are going on the boat today, i offered to buy some snacks."
"buying snacks could only mean one thing." i cock an eyebrow towards him.
"jj got some new weed." we say in unison, locking eyes and laughing.
pope brings up the item towards me, handing them to me to ring up. "well have fun and be safe out there. the total is $10.78 and tell jj that just because he sent you in does not mean i will give the discount." i point my finger.
pope holds his hands up and laughs. i turn around to grab a bag for his stuff as i hear the door open again. "it was worth a shot. you know i-" pope stops mid-sentence, almost like he was silenced.
"do i know what?" i turn around and see rafe standing behind pope, looking him up and down. out the window, i see john b and jj sticking their heads out in a protective manner. we both stay silent under rafe's cold glare. i quickly bag up the items, handing them over to pope. "y'all be safe out there." i force a smirk as i feel rafe's eyes on me.
pope nods and walks out of the store, hopping back in the van. john b shoots me a look, asking if i'll be okay with his eyes. i nod, signaling for him to go. i can see jj protest it.
rafe walks up, not saying a word. "what can i help you with today?" i say with a shaky voice.
he smiles slightly. "had to get gas, wanted to put $20 on pump 2."
i glare at him, narrowing my eyes at him. "really?"
he shrugs. "what? a man can't get gas for his truck?" he steps closer to the counter, his stomach touching up against it like he's trying to get closer to me.
i don't say a word, just shoot a quick look to see if the guys are still there.
they are.
it's like having three annoying brothers.
my eyes look back to rafe as he stares down at me. i rest my arms against the counter, trying not to blush. "i mean, technically, any person has the right to get gas. but you, rafe, never come over to this side of the island unless you're here to fuck around or mess with someone. so, i'm a little suspicious." i admit.
he licks his lips as he chuckles. "honesty?" he asks, similarly to the night we last spoke.
"you know i love it." i say, bluntly.
"just wanted to check in on my favorite pogue." he says in a whisper, sliding across the $20 bill. "and to get gas for my truck."
i feel like my body is on fire just from his glare. i take his money, without breaking eye contact. "you got it. $20 on pump 2." i repeat.
he smiles again and damn him for the effect it has over me. he looks over to my friends in the van and then back at me. "they don't seem to catch a hint, huh?' he waves at them jokingly, which jj does not seem to like.
"can you blame them? you came in here like the terminator or some shit." i say.
"have you ever seen the terminator?" he asks.
i rub the back of my neck, looking at my shoes. "uh, no."
"figures because that reference does not make any sense." he jokes, making me blush. i try to hide my face and he taps the counter. "come on, now, it was a joke. don't hide that pretty face away from me."
my heart skipped a beat as i felt my ears burn. the awkwardness i'm feeling is exuding from my body like it's leaking out of my pores. "w-whatever, you know what i mean. you don't always have to look so mean, ya know? acting like something crawled up your ass."
he lets out a breathe of air with a belly laugh. "don't pretend like you don't like it."
it's like he can see through me and i hate it. "y-you can go fill your tank now." i say, trying to ignore the tension he created.
"but i wanna stay here and talk with you some more." he looks me up and down.
"as fun as it would be, i'm on the clock. my pop would kill me if he knew i'm talking to boys when i should be working." i say to him.
he nods, looking around the store. "how about i take you out?"
all i can do is laugh.
what else is there to do in a situation like this?
he has to be joking. there is no way he's seroius.
"what's so funny?" he seems almost annoyed.
i shake my head, trying to calm my laughter down. "you...wanting to take me...out. that's a good one."
"i was being serious."
"and the sky is purple. oh! and unicorns are real." i say sarcastically.
he stands straight, his demeanor changing. "y/n, i wanna take you out. no jokes, no pranks, no bullshit."
i stand there, my expression dropping. "you're serious?" he nods, making me cross my arms. "why?"
"i-i don't know, because i want to get to know you? i don't know." he holds his arms up. my body seems to just shut down, unable to move or process anything. "y/n? hello?" rafe stands there impatiently.
"no." i say, flatly.
he sticks his head out, closing his eyes. "w-what?"
"no." i repeat.
"why?" he asks, now crossing his arms.
i turn around, grabbing items that need to be restocked. "for starters, because i can." i walk past him as he follows after me. "but most importantly, i was not born yesterday." i put the items back on the shelf as he looks at me. "listen, you are a very attractive guy. like super attractive. but, i know your end goal. i know you're only doing this to fuck with me and my friends. i appreciate the offer but no."
it pains me to say no when all i want to do is say yes, but i need to think with my head.
i expect him to retaliate, push back on what i said. but all he does is nod and back up. "understood. but respectfully, y/n, you will change your mind. might not be now or anytime in the future, but it'll happen." i look at him, he wears that same cocky expression he always does. "thanks for the gas, see you around."
i watch as he turns around, going out the door he came in.
he has something up his sleeve and i cannot tell if i'm excited or nervous for it.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
the sun slowly begins to rise over the ocean as i park my bike at the beach.
i take my sandals off, walking over the cool sand to my usual spot when i see a figure sitting there. i cant make out who it is. i clutch my bag closer to my body. no one is ever here this early with me.
as i walk closer, i see the blonde head that made my head swirl.
“rafe?” i ask.
“there you are. i was wondering if i got the wrong spot.” he says, calm and collected.
i just stare at him, unable to process what the hell is happening. “w-what are you doing here?”
he shrugs. “i’m here to watch the dolphins.”
my hands find my hips. “rafe.”
“what? it’s so hard to believe i came here to see the dolphins?” he says, causing me to cock my eyebrow and give him a suspicious look.
“actually it is very hard to believe. you waking up at the ass crack of dawn to watch dolphins? it’s a little strange.” i say to him. “especially given the last conversation we had. how did you even know where to find me?”
he shifts in his seat. “the first time we met.”
“what?”
“that day on the beach, you told me you were here to watch the dolphins. i watched you sit down and remembered this was the spot. your spot.” he admits.
i stand there, my heart fluttering in my chest. why is he so observant with me? “so you decided to come join me unannounced?” he nods at my question. “kinda creepy.”
i can see his face drop and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. “well, i can leave if you really want me to. i didn’t mean t-”
he cuts himself off when i open my bag and grab my towel, setting it down next to him. “no need, you’re already out here.” i place my stuff next to the towel and find my spot.
we sit beside each other in silence, staring out into the ocean ahead of us. the sky is a mixture of blue and yellow, radiating a soft filter onto our skins. there’s no sign of any life in the ocean, only the seagulls flying overhead. i play with a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, trying to cope with this awkward tension between us when an idea pops into my head. i grab my strawberry shortcake lunchbox that i’ve had since i was a kid and open it. i hear rafe chuckle and i shoot him a dirty look before grabbing my blueberry muffin out of it. i unwrap it from its plastic and split it into two. “wanna go halfsies?”
he stares down at the pastry in my hand and softly grabs it. “t-thanks.” we eat in silence, looking everywhere and anywhere but at each other. “so you do this every day?” he asks and i nod. “even if it rains?” he looks over at me.
“sometimes, depending on the condition. it keeps me at ease. like a getaway.” i admit. “don’t you have something that you use to like…i don’t know. escape. forget about the world for a few hours?”
he sighs, his feet shuffling in the sand. “kind of? but it’s nothing as peaceful as this.”
“really? what is it?” i ask curiously.
he laughs softly to himself and shakes his head. “it’s uh….it’s something to take the edge off i guess.”
i look at him, trying to connect the dots. “what is it?”
he closes his eyes and shakes his head. he looks like he wants to tell me but holds back. “how long have you been doing this?” he changes the subject rather quickly.
i’m taken aback by the sudden change but i can tell it’s something he’d rather not talk about it. a dirty little secret, perhaps. “hmm, well…probably when i was in 5th grade? middle school was…rough to say the least.” i let out a light laugh. “home life got rough, the usual shit. i was at a sleepover for this girl who invited me as a joke and i just couldn’t sleep. so i got on my bike and rode around the island, not sure where to go. it was too early to head home and nothing was opened yet, so i sat on the beach. that’s when i saw how calm it was.”
rafe just stares at me, a neutral expression on his face. “wow.”
i suddenly realized how much baggage i just dropped on him. my face heated up as i tried to collect my scrambled thoughts. “sorry, i didn’t mean to like…dump on you.” i stammer out.
rafe gently puts his hand on my knee, trying to pull me back to earth. “hey, hey, it’s all good. no need to apologize. we all got our shit.” he reassures me. “i’m just…i don’t know? glad…you felt comfortable enough to tell me about that.”
i stare at his hand on my knee. his fingers running slow circles into it, giving me the comfort i needed in that second. “i usually am not so open about this shit. i find it better to keep bottled up.” i say truthfully.
“i’m with you on that one, believe me.” a comfortable silence falls between us, our eyes meeting and staying connected. it feels as though we are the only two people in existence right now. his hand still rests on my leg as my breath hitches. i can feel his face moving in closer to me. do i want him to kiss me? yes. absolutely. 100%. but the voice in my head was screaming at me to stop.
what would your friends do if they saw you like this? this is rafe fucking cameron. you can’t be kissing the enemy. he’s the definition of BAD NEWS.
it pounded in my head until our noses touched and i closed my eyes tight.
i can’t.
i quickly turn away, looking back out to the ocean. my chest rising up and down, the almost kiss making me loose my breathe. “look! there’s a few now!” it was my turn to change the subject.
i don’t turn my head back to him. just staring straight ahead, trying not to replay what almost happened. he just stays there, in the same position. i can hear him blow out a breathe of air and shake his head, turning towards the direction i’m talking about. “oh shit, that’s cool.” he says monotone.
the sun is fully risen above our heads, the temperature is rising and the beach is slowly welcoming more visitors. rafe and i haven’t said a word since the kiss that was so close to happening.
i slowly start to gather my things, cleaning off the sand from my legs. rafe copies me, wiping the sand off of him. we walk up the path, i’m cautiously looking around to see if any of my friends are around. i can see rafe just staying at his feet. we walk up to bike stand and pause.
“let me give you a ride home.” he offers.
i shake my head. “i live in the complete opposite direction of you, it wouldn’t make any sense. i really appreciate it though.”
he stands there, giving me a stern look. “wouldn’t be very gentleman like if i didn’t. i really don’t mind.” i look at my bike and back at him. he’s almost pleading with me to accept the ride. “c’mon.”
i won’t lie and say his puppy dog look didn’t have any effect on me. i sigh, giving in. “fine.” he walks my bike over to his truck, loading it into the bed. i then walk over to the passenger door but he beats me to it, opening it for me. i blush slightly and laugh. “and they say chivalry is dead.” rafes body is dangerously close to mine, i can feel him looking down at me.
“clearly they haven’t met me yet.” he winks back.
the car ride is quiet, yet again.
there’s millions of things we probably want to say to each other but just can’t bring ourselves to do so. so we let it consume us.
i stare out the window as we drive deeper into the island and into the cut. when rafe finally pulls up to my house, he looks over at me and back to my house. i expect a dirty look. one of disgust or even pity. but he doesn’t, shockingly, he just has a soft look on his face. “thank you for letting me drive you home.” he says to me.
“i should be thanking you. saved me a few mile bike ride.” i chuckle. his eyes stare into mine, yet again. i could get lost in those baby blue but i have to fight the urge.
he licks his lips smoothly and nods. “let me get your bike.” he hops out of the truck and runs around to my side of the truck, opening my door for me yet again. i stand there awkwardly as he grabs my bike. “where do you want me to put this?”
“over there is fine.” i point next to my front door. he nods and sets it down. he walks back up to me and stands there. we both don’t know what to say. “thanks for dropping by today, even though it was creepy and unexpected.” i joke.
he laughs and nods his head. “yeah, yeah. don’t pretend you didn’t like my company.” he nudges my shoulder. “i just…i wanted to spend sometime with you.” he admits. “as corny as it sounds.”
“rafe…” i trail off, knowing where this is going to leave.
“y/n, it’s fine. i don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. i just…i want to get to know you. i don’t know, i don’t think that’s so wrong?” he says.
he’s right, it’s not so wrong. but…he’s him and i’m me. it just won’t work.
“still not completely convinced this isn’t apart of some plot to completely eliminate the pogues.” i say.
“well i guess i have to earn your trust.” he says to me softly.
i look up at him and smile. “i’ll see you around.”
“i’m counting on it.” he says.
i walk into my door, turning around to wave at him. he hangs on the side of his opened door, waving back with a smile on his face. i’ve seen rafe smile more times today than my entire life knowing him.
once i get inside, i hear his truck pull off and i let out a big sigh of air i didn’t know i was keeping. my skin felt like it was on fire, my mind racing a mile a minute. was i finally seeing rafe cameron as a human being? a human being that i want to spend time with? laugh with? have memories with?
i had to be going crazy. there had to be something in my water. or in the air.
or maybe, just maybe….rafe cameron was a good guy after all. or a guy that could be good with a little bit of help from me.
tag list: @readingsmuts @saranred @kikixdee @drewsdirtyslut @ephermally @personaswrld @ymnizuh @lillywildly @anaheimd101 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @thewitchesofart @ditzyzombiesblog @gothamgurl2024
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secretlovezz · 3 months ago
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hiiiii, congrats on 1k I love your writing smm!!!
Could I please request an Eddie Munson fic with a female reader where they’re best friends and have a Horror Movie Friday every week, and at this one, she ends up sleeping over? Thank you! 💕
Scary Movie?
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Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: none really just fluff
Wordcount: 1059
A/N: hope I did well on your request, I'm honored that you enjoy my little writings <3
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Friday has always been your favorite day of the week.
When you were little it always signified the end of the school week, free from classes with rowdy students and teachers that couldn’t control them, and though this was still a good reason for making it such a wonderful day it got even better after you met Eddie.
Eddie Munson the resident “freak” at Hawkins high and your best friend had declared Friday night as movie night not too long into your abruptly formed friendship. Every week you would head to his trailer with a wide smile on your face, a pizza, drinks, or snacks in hand and prepare for a night of random movies- almost always scary and meant to scare your socks off in a way that always made Eddie cackle- and fun. 
This week it was your turn to pick a movie and though you knew Eddie wouldn’t really like it you were fine with that as long as you didn’t have to sit through Poltergeist again.
“So what has the lady brought for us to watch this week?” Eddie sighs dramatically as he plops himself on the couch beside you, throwing his arm lazily around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. You move his arm off of you to stand and he frowns groaning at the unintentional rejection.
But you smile in thought at what reaction he might have as you dig through your bag for the movie you rented ignoring his dramatics in the background. Grin widening when you grab it and whip it into the air excitedly, “Behold! The glorious film of-,” Eddie cuts you off as he reads the title deadpanned and a little annoyed no longer into the playful mood he had just been in less than a minute ago, “Gremlins? Are you serious? We’re supposed to be watching scary movies.”
Eyes rolling at him as you pop open the case to insert the movie into the player insisting, “Gremlins is totally a scary movie those little fuckers are nightmare fuel and you know it.” you swing the case to point at him as you finish speaking. Eddie crosses his arms and pouts like a child mumbling something about how they are in fact not scary and he could totally beat them but you once again ignore his antics and insert the movie. 
Walking back over to the couch you throw yourself onto it and wrap your arm around him to pull his slouched body over to you similarly to what he had done to you only minutes before. He sighs giving in almost immediately and grabs onto your legs to pull them into his lap rubbing your leg up and down with his cold hands sometimes pitching at your sweatpants. Your head rests on his shoulder rubbing your cheek against the warn fabric of his band-tee while his own cheek rests against your hair, face a little covered by the wildness of it.
The two of you watch the movie but not without Eddie's quips and mumbles about how stupid it is and soon enough you're both half asleep as the credits roll up with the names of actors and producers.
You yawn and so does he, moving to stretch your hand bumps a little roughly against Eddie’s chin and you laugh.
“I know I made fun of your choice of movie but you didn’t have’ta hit me for it,” he grumbles to which you roll your eyes and reason, “If you weren’t so close to me all the time I wouldn’t have done that.” He pinches your side and gets up doing an exaggerated stretch of his own.
As you get up to gather your things Eddie watches you brows furrowed and eyes squinted as you throw your- once his- sweater into your tote bag and he looks out the window then looks back at you. “Y’know you could just stay over, right? I mean it's pretty late and- and I think Wayne wouldn’t mind… he likes you.” He finishes his sentence with a shrug with his hand rubbing shyly on the back of his heating neck. You look at him, contemplating, and look out the window then back at him. He’s right it's late and you suck at driving at night, Eddie likes to tease and ask how you even got your license.
“Oh! Uhhh sure why not?”
The grin that appears on his face makes you feel like you’re looking at the sun- he’s absolutely beaming at you.
“Perfect! I mean cool- yeah yeah cool, um you can take the bed and i’ll sleep out here.” A giggle leaves from your lips at his poorly hidden excitement. “Or and hear me out here,” Eddie raises a singular brow anticipation for your next words over shadowing his previous embarrassment, “we share the bed. I mean the two of us could totally fit, right?” 
The flush that overtakes your best friend's face makes you giggle once more, grabbing his hand to lead him to the room as he sputters out nonsense along the way. You think this is your new favorite version of him, shattering his cocky-ness to reveal a flustered mess.
When you two make it to the room you drop his hand and toss yourself down onto his blanket covered mattress sighing as you make contact with the plushness of it.
Gathering one of his pillows in your arms and letting your head fall onto it you finally turn to him, “c’mon you're the one that said it was late, I’m tired.” He’s moving before the words even finish leaving your mouth throwing himself on top of you lazily, “you’re right,” he lets out a faux yawn, “It’s sooooo late and I’m sooooo tired.” His arms wrap around your torso tightly and shoves his face into the crook of your neck- already he was back to his normal self. You cackle and try to push him off but it’s no use because he uses all of his strength to keep you pressed against him.
He only loosens his grip to let you twist in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala. “Love you.” The words are whispered so gently against the shells of his ear that he almost doesn’t hear you but he does.
“Love you too”
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
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just saw this (https://www.tumblr.com/ssahotchnerr/732194441050374144/the-person-talking-about-their-dream-scenario) and it inspired something in me KATIE listen imagine during a pinning era with aaron and you ask him to hold a small mirror that you carry everywhere in case you need to fix your make up/ redo your lipstick!! while applying your lipstick your lips went 😗 and aaron trying so damn hard to keep it together he's just blushing due to the close proximity between the two of you i want need to kiss him so bad
unreservedly
no i need to kiss him cw; bau!reader, gn! but reader wears makeup, small suggestiveness, mutual pining and fluff <3
"hey," you picked up speed in your pace, weaving past some officers and allowing you to catch up with aaron a bit more quickly. "do me a favor?"
"well, it depends on the favor."
you shot him a playful, exasperated expression. "ha ha. if you don't mind," you held up a small compact mirror in one hand, your usual lip liner and lipstick combination in the other. "someone's in the bathroom, so i gotta go with plan b. and it's an emergency."
your sentence finished in a near whine - by now, aaron understood your sense of humor, and frequently bounced it right back at you - in case he needed any convincing (he didn't).
"sure, of course." with a gentle chuckle, aaron retrieved the mirror from you, opening such and holding it aloft, steady with his index finger and thumb.
"my hero," you teased and released a dramatized breath of relief, a delighted glint in your eyes.
first, you adjusted his hand a smidge - the brief skin to skin contact causing your heart to skip - alternating the position of the mirror as he was much taller than you. once you could perfectly see your small reflection peering back at you, did you uncap the lip liner and fall into immediate, firm concentration, lining the top edge of your lip.
as aaron stood there patiently, a nervousness trickled into him. he internally questioned whether or not you wanted him to, or were expecting, him to look away. would his unwanted attention possibly break your engrossment? or was it just, awkward? you applying your makeup, with him silently standing there. though, it didn't feel awkward - it felt rather comfortable, actually - but he could almost laugh at himself. this felt similarly like high school, running his mind and second guessing his actions.
but regardless of your preference, he couldn't pull his gaze away from you even if he tried.
the close proximity allowed him to admire you, and all your features, to his heart's content unreservedly, with zero holdback. for example, he never noticed the faintest of freckles scattered across the bridge of your nose, completely unknown to the plain eye. it filled him with a silly giddiness, something he would be embarrassed to admit aloud; noticing yet a new part of you, one others probably didn't have the knowledge of.
you secured the cap onto the lip liner, and aaron immediately offered his continued assistance, obtaining it with his free hand. you flashed him a bashful smile, before puckering your lips and beginning to apply your nude-pink lipstick slowly.
your lips, dangerous territory. as his eyes dropped, heat immediately pooled in his face, his ears flushing as well. aaron bit down onto his bottom lip, hard, silently urging himself to snap out of it and pull it together.
but it didn't help he could feel your light breath occasionally fan onto his skin, reminding him of the proximity. it would be way too easy to lean in just a bit closer, to foremost and finally kiss you, just like he's been dreaming of.
aaron let out a not-so-silent exhale at the thought, and before his mind could wander, as if it hadn't already - your lipstick lightly tinting his lips, his neck, or scattered along numerous parts of his body. the sound gained your focus, and drew your attention to his profusely blushing face.
your eyebrows crinkled as you pulled the lipstick a few centimeters away from your lips. "are you alright?"
it took aaron a second to find his voice, speaking after a nervous swallow, small strain present and accompanied with a brisk, stiff nod. "fine."
"you don't seem 'fine'." you shrugged, resuming your task. only this time, your lips were parted lightly, forming a small 'o'.
fuck.
"jus' a bit... hot." aaron managed softly, blushing even more if it were possible and finding it difficult to hold the mirror perfectly still. his eyes involuntarily shot back to your lips, but he indulged himself - letting his gaze linger.
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landogalore · 7 months ago
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DEJA VU
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carlos sainz x singer! reader
MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, SMUT: unprotected sex (PLS WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT GUYS), oral sex (female), creampie.
word count: 2.7k
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The routine began the same as every night had previously started, following the identical steps to prepare herself before stepping onto the stage.
The brunette hair swirled down, reaching just below her shoulders in perfectly shaped curls. she allowed her eyes to glance at herself in the mirror, the bright spotlights shooting towards her face, enhancing her facial features so beautifully it would put any person into a trance. the silver eyeshadow has been carefully placed in the corner of her eyelids, the glistening effect causing her sapphire eyes to become bolder, brighter. As she admired herself one last time, she was able to reminisce the events that led up to this, how her talent was able to become known, and the people who cherished her along the journey.
She originally attempted to boost her career by busking, sitting on a stool in the Spanish humidity, singing the songs that she hoped would attract the most attention from the public, eventually persuading them to drop a mere euro into the bucket below. To most people, this would appear to be a normal method to try and get funding which could help increase her popularity, but to the determined singer and her family, she looked like a pathetic charity case.
‘You can’t continue with this, hija.’ her mother would constantly remind her, her dream was just a fantasy she created, unable to ever truly become the reality she longed for.
‘It can go on no longer. we’ll help you get a stable job.’ her father agreed, once again the truth that she was failing hitting like a bullet, leaving a wound that would slowly shatter her confidence.
‘Just one last day, please papá.’ she begged, she needed one last try, a song to say goodbye to the dream that she imagined when she was a child, the commitment she gave needed to be for something, it had to be.
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Similarly to every other session, she placed the empty bucket beside her while she set up the equipment. The streets in Madrid were always busy, bustling with a mixture of both locals and tourists. And like all the other days, she began to sing, a tiny beacon of hope still fighting in her heart, that she will be noticed.
Two hours went by, and the usual process happened, euros gifted to her by a range of people, even a young toddler waddled over to drop a few pennies into the bucket below. This was finally the end, she thought to herself. She sighed, admitting she needed a break before continuing once again, placing the equipment back into her backpack before slouching onto a nearby park bench.
‘You’re the singer, no?’ A voice asked from beside her, turning to face the stranger who somehow recognised her. His dark hair slightly blowing across his face from the gentle breeze, covering small areas of his features. Although, they struggled to hide the large chocolate coloured eyes smiling towards her, leaving the girl almost mesmerised.
‘Yeah! Well, I busk nearby.’ She confirmed, her grin growing at the realisation she had eventually been recognised for her abilities, the man’s lips beaming wider at the answer.
‘Are you available friday?’ he queried, the girl’s eyes widening in shock at the question. was he about to ask her to sing at a venue?
‘Uh..’ she panicked, her whole body buzzing with excitement, ‘definitely! i’m not busy at all on friday!’
‘Great! I’ve got a few friends coming to this event later this week and our singer decided to get food poisoning and cancel. I’ll give you my number and send you the rest of the details.’ He further explained, reaching out of his pocket to grab a notebook, ripping a small tear out of a page. ‘You got a pen?’
‘Yeah!’ she rummaged through her backpack and handed him the pen, her voice unable to contain the positive emotions overwhelming her, seeming a bit too enthusiastic to give him some basic stationery.
‘Here.’ he passed her the tiny sheet which she also placed inside her bag. ‘I’m Carlos.’ he introduced himself, reaching out his hand, the new view of his arms highlighting the prominent veins, despite mainly being covered in body hair.
‘Maddison.’ She grabbed his hand back, shaking it as she stared directly at the man, a mixture of both delight that she can now sing somewhere that isn’t 20+ degrees in the outdoor heat, but also that she had met Carlos…
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Is this Carlos?
Yes! Please be at this address at 7pm. I’ll see you soon 😊
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When she arrived, the immediate elegance of the building shocked her. It seemed like she had been transported to the victorian era, contrasting the usual settings she had been accustomed to previously.
She inhaled a large gasp of the oxygen outside, trying to control her breathing rate and calm down the nervous butterflies that fluttered around her stomach.
She hesitantly stepped inside of the venue, but became immediately mesmerised by the luxurious decorations that covered the room. It was truly something she had never seen before.
“You’re here.” The familiar accent greeted her once again, her eyes shifting to see Carlos, dressed in a dark suit that appeared more expensive than what the girl had in her whole bank account, feeling almost humiliated by the dress she had slipped on in an attempt to blend in with the crowd. “You look-” He began.
“I know… I’m sorry it’s one of the only dresses-” she apologised, already believing she had ruined a part of the night.
“You look stunning, Maddison.” He interrupted, finally finishing his sentence, admiring the girl standing before him, the unexpected compliment causing her cheeks to flush into a vibrant red shade. “I’ll take you to the stage.” Carlos added, indicating for the singer to follow him, which she easily complied.
“Is there anything specific you want me to sing?” She questioned, unsure on what the routine was for the night.
‘Just sing the songs you like, not always just the popular ones, but the songs you’re confident with.’
‘Got it.’ She smiled; she was now able to play the music that matched her tone perfectly rather than adapting. The contagious expression she wore reflected onto Carlos’ face, before he stepped closer to the girl, leaning in towards her ear.
‘I’m sure that anything you sing will be amazing, cariño.’ He murmured softly, backing away and leaving to allow her to set up the equipment desired for the upcoming performance.
The celebrations continued throughout the night, all the guests pleasantly entertained, she didn’t know much about the reasoning behind the event, but narrowed it down to being a birthday party.
After further confirming that the microphone was functioning correctly, she adjusted the stand to her height, placing the device into the slot as she started to introduce her act to the audience.
‘Hi everyone!’ She spoke, all eyes in the room now focused on the girl standing on the stage. “I’m Maddison and I’ve been asked to perform some songs for you all. This one I will sing is currently one of my favourites!’ She finished, shifting from talking to singing as the speaker began to play a melody.
The music differed to the usual tunes she sung while busking, the more tranquil genre suiting her voice almost perfectly, allowing her to stay comfortable while the whole crowd stared. However the only person she truly focused on was Carlos, his chocolate eyes glistening towards her like he was enthralled not just by the singer’s talent, but also by her immense beauty. The man couldn’t comprehend the reasons why he felt such ways for someone he had approached on the street just earlier this week, all he could do is watch in mesmerisation, cherishing the moment.
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At the end of the night, only a few were still gathered at the party, mostly waving their goodbyes; however, the singer and Carlos being a part of that small group.
When she finished her act, the man waited patiently nearby the stage as she packed away her equipment, desperate to just see her once more, even if it was the couple glasses of alcohol he sipped previously influencing these thoughts, the girl remaining unaware of his presence.
‘Your singing was so beautiful.’ He perked up, catching the attention of the girl as she swiftly turned her head around to face him.
‘Carlos, you’re still here?’ her eyes widened, shocked that he had remained at the event for such a long period of time. ‘I thought you would’ve left already.’
‘Never.’ He stepped closer, standing tall above her, just a few inches away from her face, his brain practically entranced by her beauty, he didn’t care anymore, at this moment all he craved was her, everything about her. ‘I needed to see you again Maddison.’ His voice softening as he approached further towards the singer, his hands moving upwards to gently caress her cheek. Despite the strength the man’s hands appeared, his touch seemed so gentle and loving.
‘Carlos.’ Her breath hitched at the sudden action, hundreds of questions overwhelming her mind. Why did he want her? Is he drunk? Does he know what he is doing? Why did she want him to kiss her so badly?
‘Say it, please cariño.’ The beseech escaped as almost a murmur, praying that she had heard the sentence, his vision purely focusing on the singer’s plumped lips.
‘Kiss me, Carlos.’ She pleased, immediately being met with the man’s lips smashed onto hers, bringing her into a passionate kiss. Her wish was his command. His tongue entered her mouth as the touch became slightly rougher, grasping onto her cheek tighter but still somehow keeping that caring feeling.
‘Not here.’ She pulled away from the connection, placing the hand that was originally situated on her cheek down towards her own palm, signalling for him to hold it. ‘You don’t want an audience now do you?’ The singer lifted onto the tips of her feet to whisper into his ear, lust clearly visible in her throat.
‘You’re right querida.’ He agreed, a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, ‘I’m the only one who deserves to see you naked, desperate for my cock.’ The words leaving his lips making the girl’s thighs warmer, closing them together to release the pressure that was craving something, craving Carlos.
Eagerly, she followed Carlos away from the grand atmosphere, the room shrinking into a narrow hallway before the man reached their desired destination, twisting the doorknob to reveal the bathroom that still remained as elegant as the rest of the building.
Instantly entering, their lips joined together once again, the girl’s body slammed against the counter nearby the sink while Carlos sped up the pace of their kisses, becoming desperate and sloppy, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.
His tongue continued its attack, although separating from her lips, travelling downwards to her clear neck, the man excited to paint his canvas with marks that will leave large bruises.
As he sucked onto the clear skin, the girl couldn’t help but let high- pitched moans crawl out of her throat, not caring about the red, stinging stains appearing, just praying for this sensation to continue forever.
‘This dress is so pretty on you, ángel.’ Carlos smirked, his fingertips brushing against the slim straps on the one-piece, ‘But you’ll look much better with this all off.’ He looked up at the girl for confirmation to continue, which she eagerly nodded in consent as he slid the fabric down her shoulders, slowly removing the clothing in an attempt to tease her. He refused to break eye contact as the silk dropped down to her thighs, revealing the lacy bra underneath, which he also unclipped to uncover her breasts.
‘I need you, Carlos.’ She pleaded, impatience prominent in her voice as the light strokes made her whole body shiver with lust. ‘I need you in me.’
‘Steady cariño.’ He giggle consumed with mischief, ‘Gonna have some fun with you first.’ He planted sloppy kisses trailing from her collarbone downwards towards the lower area of her chest, the crumpled fabric preventing the man moving any further. ‘Can I?’
‘Yes, please.’ She answered, the material rubbing down her legs as she was left almost naked, just a small piece of dampened lace covering her vagina.
‘Mierda.’ He murmured the curse at the sight of her dripping pussy. ‘You’re already that wet for me, bet you’re gonna taste so good.’ His warm breathed pressed near her entrance, leaving a tickling feeling that only made the girl ache for the man even more.
His mouth began to press against her lips, swirling his tongue around areas of her clit, causing inaudible sounds to slip out of the girl’s mouth.
‘Carlos.-’ Was the only word she could muster, unable to focus while the man licked against her walls, her legs beginning to tremble due to the immense pleasure.
‘Dios, you sound so beautiful saying my name.’ He complimented, still working at her pussy, the visible muscles in the neck twitching, only allowing her to become even more aroused of the thought of his defined body. ‘Are you gonna cum for me, princesa?’
The question finally pushed her to the edge, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, allowing the release, gripping tightly on the marble countertops she lay on for support as the liquid leaked out. However, it was quickly being cleaned up Carlos.
‘I knew it, you taste perfect.’ He chuckled, enjoying the meal before him, ‘Can’t wait to get me inside you now, is that okay?’ He looked upwards at the girl, her eyes now fuzzier and makeup smudged.
‘Please Carlos, I need to see you.’ she begged, placing her hand against his shirt, her fingertips pathing their way towards the top button, undoing each button carefully, similarly to the teasing the man had used previously.
‘Like what you see?’ He snickered as she stared in awe at the exposed abs and thick body hair. Continuing, he swiftly unbuckled his belt, slipping his trousers off and tossing them nearby her already removed dress. The man stood now only in his boxers, his bulge noticeable.
He proceeded undressing, the duo both now fully naked, however the room still stayed warm from their lust that circled the atmosphere.
‘You ready?’ Carlos asked, waiting for the confirmation from the girl as he approached, moving his dick nearby her hole.
‘Yes, fuck me Carlos.’ She pleaded, immediately greeted with his cock filling her up, a loud moan escaping from her lips. ‘Oh my god.’ She gasped, shocked by how truly large he was.
‘Mierda, Mads.’ He groaned at the tight sensation, nobody had ever made him feel like this before, almost as if she was the perfect piece to finish the jigsaw, ‘You make me feel so good, hermosa.’ As he increased the pace, the pleasurable screams grew louder. Fortunately, there was most likely not a soul left in the building, allowing more freedom.
‘I’m gonna cum again, I can’t hold on any longer.’ She whined, the thrusting from Carlos turning all the muscles in her body numb, desperate to release the pressure.
‘We’ll do it together, cariño.’ He suggested, preparing for a countdown so they can both relieve themselves together. ‘1, 2, 3.’ Instantly after, they both moaned in sync, their bodies vibrating as they spilled their warmth into each other, connecting together in more than one way.
‘Are you okay, princesa?’ Carlos pulled out of her, his hand carefully caressing her cheek that glowed with vibrance. Her now tangled hair flowed down her face, slightly hiding some features, but he could still spot her beauty.
‘Perfect, especially now I’m with you.’ The girl giggled.
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Despite that moment being so long ago, the memories are still imprinted in her brain, remembering every detail, including every detail of him.
‘Are you okay? princesa?’ Her fiancé wrapped his arms around the singer’s waist, nuzzling his head softly into the crevice of her neck. ‘No before- stages nerves?’
‘Don’t worry Carlos.’ She reassured, the stage didn’t frighten her so much anymore, confidently able to stand before a large audience. ‘I’m perfect, especially now I’m with you.’ She spoke, and a flash of deja vu sent her back once again, to that Friday night, to the man eager to find a replacement singer, to Carlos.
HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3
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strawbeerossi · 1 year ago
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Practice Makes Perfect
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18+ Content. Minors DNI.
Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer insists on helping reader perfect the party trick that she was trying to master when he came over. This time, there is a twist to it.
Content Warning: Coarse language, porn with little plot, restraints, soft dom Spencer, sub reader, teasing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), facesitting, spitting, hair pulling, degradation (use of whore and slut), pretty mild breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, pretty entertaining ending.
Word count: 2.6K
Part one
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Tag for @a-cloud-for-dreams 🫶🏻
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The words had Y/N taken aback when Spencer mentioned it being her turn to wear the metal cuffs if they were to go again.
“Don’t look shocked. I mean, this is your trick, right? We gotta make sure that you get it down for Rossi’s next dinner party.” He explained as he let his arms cross.
God dammit, he looked good while pleading his case, the way his tousled hair was falling over his face, the way the light shine of sweat radiated off his body. He looked delectable.
“Fine. Only for the greater good of me learning this trick though.” She spoke, as if she wasn’t already clenching her thighs together from the sheer thought of being restrained, being able to be used at Spencer’s heart's content. The way he lit up at her agreeing to the idea was enough to make her head spin.
“First thing's first though..” He frowned, eyeing her up and down before his fingers were working fast to pull her shirt over her head, mouth practically watering at the sight of her bare chest, his hands coming up her hips before he was resting them just below her breasts.
The way he was ogling her body was enough to make Y/N’s face turn a light shade of pink. He’d just watched his cock plunge in and out of her pussy while she was focused on riding him, yet she was nervous over him seeing her naked torso. 
Sounded about right.
“Gonna put them on you again,” The male’s voice brought her out of her thoughts as her head nodded slowly. “Okay.” She spoke, watching him spin the cuffs around his finger while awaiting her verbal consent to being bound. 
He made her stand up so it would be easier, walking behind her as one hand ran down the smooth flesh of Y/N’s arm. He brought her wrists together before the cool metal was on her skin, the sound of the restraints closing around her wrists filling the quiet room.
Y/N’s heart was beating fast, so hard that she feared it would burst from her chest. He surprised her the moment she was being pushed forward, bent over the bed while she yelped in surprise. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her, yet she wasn’t expecting to be shoved down similarly that an unsub would be pushed down against the table when being detained at the scene.
The feeling of his large hands running down her back had goosebumps spreading across her skin, her eyes closing as her cheek rested against the unkempt sheets and duvet from their previous activity.
The tender approach was enough to relax her.
It was the sharp smack to her ass that jolted her back to reality.
“You look like such a whore, bent over your bed for me while you have no power in the situation.” He spoke while reaching over on her bedside table, grabbing a paperclip before unravelling it and placing it in her dominant hand. 
“You aren’t cumming until you take them off.” Spencer spoke, a boost of confidence washing over him as his hand was moving to slick back his messy hair that was falling in his face. “I suggest you get to it,” He snickered softly, hands running down her hips before coming down to her ass.
Y/N had to admit that this sudden burst of confidence was wildly sexy coming from the usually awkward and downright submissive Dr. Spencer Reid that she knew from work. The man who she just had whimpering and restrained in her bed was reducing her to a puddle of goo.
While her hand was shaking and trying to get the paperclip in the keyhole of the handcuffs, Spencer was thoroughly enjoying himself for a moment watching her actually try to free herself. 
His hands pushed her asscheeks apart, a low groan leaving his lips as he got a full view of her beautiful, wet, pink pussy. It was swollen, used from before and Spencer could feel his cock hardening at the residue of his cum that was painting the back of her inner thighs. “You know, statistically, 20% of sexual partners get pregnant within the first time they have sex?” He asked, that 187 IQ appearing when he wasn’t being distracted by his cock being sucked. 
“Now, that means that technically, you could already be at risk of pregnancy from the first time?” His fingers were coming down to her labia, now pushing the lips apart before his thumb found its way to her clit. 
The thought of her being pregnant with his baby elicited an animalistic growl from Spencer. “You’re really wet from the thought of that?” He asked, a smirk on his face as her slick wasn’t unnoticed against his fingers. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to pump you full of my cum and paint that pretty uterus? Have you swollen with a baby? Fuck.” His words were already influencing himself.
“Everyone would know you like being used as a cocksleeve and being desperate for all the cum you can milk out of me.” The explicit nature of his words had Y/N letting out a moan, her head fully in the clouds as her hips were rocking against his hand, desperate to get more than his thumb on her clit. 
“You look like a desperate slut, you need more?” He asked, thumb putting pressure on her clit and eliciting another cry. That was when he was letting his middle finger run over her slit, collecting the slick of arousal from her puffy cunt. 
There were no words shared between the two, instead he was letting his finger delve into her tight heat, making the woman below him moan out as her pussy was clenching around his finger.
The feeling of her walls closing around his finger and trying to pull him in for more made the man groan lowly, curling his finger just to get a reaction, which the muffled moan against the sheets was enough encouragement to add a second finger.
The long digits were nestled knuckle deep inside the inviting warmth, watching as Y/N attempted to fuck herself against his fingers. “You’ve stopped trying to get the cuffs off.” He pointed out the obvious, almost like an indirect order for her to continue trying or he would stop his movements.
This stupid fucking trick idea would be the end of her, her fingers clenching around the paperclip while her shaking hand was in search of the keyhole, finding it this time.
Spencer was satisfied, granting her the gift of his fingers scissoring her open as they was fucking her at a fast pace, his fingertips brushing against the spongy button inside of her that had her crying and begging for more. 
His fingers just weren’t cutting it anymore.
“Spence please, need more.” Her words were muffled into the mattress, almost inaudible. To fix that problem though, one of the male’s wrists was tangling in her hair before he roughly tugged her hair towards, lifting her head up.
“Say it one more time. It’s rude to mumble.” 
“P-Please. More.” She choked out.
“That’s more like it.”
His fingers were being pulled from her soaked cunt, chuckling as he looked over his glistening fingers, his hand still in her hair as he tugged her head up once more, the covered fingers going to her lips. He was pleasantly surprised whenever she was letting her lips close over the digits, her tongue cleaning her arousal off of his fingers.
“Good to see that the whore knows what someone wants.” He mused while letting her hair go as he was pulling his fingers from her mouth, watching as a string of saliva came with them. He’d just gotten started, and she already looked blissfully fucked out.
“More?” He asked, watching as the woman’s head was nodding quickly, feeling the strong grasp on her hips while he was moving her to sit on her knees for a moment, getting comfortable on the bed as he was lying on his back. “Come here.” He spoke, watching as she was doing her best to shuffle over on her knees. 
She started by straddling his waist, though the male was shaking his head. “Farther.” He chuckled, this time gesturing to his face while Y/N’s mouth was agape. “Will be easier for you to get the cuffs off while sitting up.” He pointed out, his hands hooking around her thighs as soon as she was quickly making her way up his body.
 “W-wait. What if you can’t suffocate? I don’t wanna end up killing you.” She spoke as she could feel his strong arms tug her body down, pressing a kiss to her clit. 
“What a way to go out.” He commented, causing the two to let out a giggle before his tongue was licking over her clit. “Don’t worry, I can easily move you if I need to.” He assured her in a moment of seriousness. 
Their words were soon replaced by the sound of moans as Spencer’s tongue was delving into her dripping pussy with no warning, the woman working on those damn handcuffs, which were a pain in her ass at this point.
She’d never do something dumb like that again. She’d just learn how to do a backflip or something as a trick to impress the entire team.
He had gotten greedy, his hands clutching tightly to her thighs as he was drinking all the arousal he could, eyes fluttered shut as he groaned lowly against her cunt. 
His cock was rock hard at this point, his tip red and angry as beads of precum were pooling. It was throbbing, twitching at the moans that were falling from her lips coupled with the sweet, intoxicating taste that was on his tongue. Truthfully, he could probably cum untouched from this.
However, the only thing that stopped him was the feeling of metal hitting his stomach along with a little cheer.
She got the fucking handcuffs off. 
Y/N looked just as surprised as the two were now making eye contact. “You actually did it.” Spencer spoke, shock dripping from his tone. “I did it!” She grinned, her fingers now coming down to tangle in his hair as she was raising an eyebrow. “You said that I could cum when I got them off. Get back to it.”
With a soft laugh, Spencer was nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” He obliged, now diving right back in as if he were a man starved.
With freedom to grab anything to support herself, her hands were coming to grip the headboard while she let her hips roll against his face, head tilting forward as a moan left her lips while was riding his face. At the position they were in, his nose was brushing against her clit with each roll of her lips.
The feeling of her thighs clenching around his head and the feeling of the fluttering in her pussy, Spencer knew she was ready to make a mess of his face. 
With cries and moans of his name filling the room, it wasn’t long until she was soaking his face, which the male was licking up everything he could to avoid wasting even a drop of cum that she’d graced him with.
“Fuck.” 
This was Spencer’s breaking point, now lifting her from his face before he was tossing her on her back, the woman letting out a yelp of surprise before watching as the clumsy male was nearly falling off the bed while pushing himself up. 
“Are we gonna increase our odds of me being pregnant?” She probably meant it to be a joke but dear god, Spencer wanted to cum right then and there. “You better watch your mouth,” He warned with a chuckle, hand coming between them to give his cock a few tugs for relief before letting his tip tease her slit. 
“Hey, I’m not against the idea! I think you should definitely give me a little genius baby.” She mused, voice shaky as he was tapping his cock against her pussy, her legs spreading more. 
“You are gonna be the death of me, fuck.” He groaned, their lips smearing against one another's as he was tired of teasing, cock pushing inside of her. There were muffled moans against each other’s lips, one of his hands on her hip while the other was resting on either side of her head.
As he was bottoming out inside of her, Y/N was pulling away to let her head loll back as her arms were loosely around his shoulders. It was always the skinny, nerdy guys who were well endowed, enough to have anyone’s head spin with little movement.
Spencer’s thrusts started slow, an easement for both of them. There was soft kisses shared, the two whispering and even laughing softly together over whatever they discussed. It was sweet, soft.
Until Spencer slammed into her and cause her body to bounce upon impact. “Fuck, Dr. Reid, calm down. You’re gonna make me hit my head on the headboard.” She squeaked, though the way he was smiling and bracing herself while grasping his shoulders was an open invitation.
It wasn't long until the room was filled with the sinful sounds of his cock slamming into her, along with the sounds of the bed squeaking like crazy and both of their moans. Thank god the apartment to the right of her was empty, cause with the way her headboard was banging against the wall, she’d have a million complaints.
The woman to the left of her would have plenty of noise complaints for her though.
“Fuck- I’m gonna-” Her nails were dragging down Spencer’s back, head thrown back as her eyes were screwed shut. The warning came seconds before her walls were spasming around his cock, her body shaking from the sensitivity as Spencer’s rough thrusts were growing sloppy. 
Spencer was reduced to a groaning, moaning mess as his cock twitched inside her clenched pussy before he was approaching his peak, his spent spilling inside of Y/N as his head was falling on her shoulder, his hips slowing their thrusts. 
***
“How the hell did you do that?” Emily asked, eyes widened with amusement as Y/N dropped the handcuffs to the ground while she smirked triumphantly. “A girl never reveals her secrets.” She spoke.
Penelope was already letting all those conspiracy theories wrack up in her brain. “Do it again! Let me close them this time because I know you have to be cheating somehow.” The bubbly blonde spoke while quickly grabbing the metal cuffs before hooking them just a bit tighter around Y/N’s back.
“I’m telling you, I can get out of these.” She continued, using the paperclip in her hand. It took her a max of ten seconds to get them unlocked, the sound of metal hitting the floor soon after.
“You need to teach me how to do that.” Emily spoke again, now picking up the metal while placing the once dreaded object on Y/N’s desk. 
“As impressive as it is, I feel like I have to give a warning that the first time any of you are trying to do a trick like that and you get stuck, you’re to come to work like that as a punishment.” Aaron spoke from where he stood outside of his office door.
“How did you even learn to do that, mama?” Derek was asking, an eyebrow raised as he leaned back against the desk behind him.
Spencer was already going red, thankfully everyone too focused on Y/N to notice, even when the two shared a knowing glance. 
“Practice makes perfect!”
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piracytheorist · 2 years ago
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A few notes on trigger discipline, with examples from Spy x Family
One of the first things you learn when learning how to use a gun is that you absolutely do NOT put your finger on the trigger unless you're 100% ready and willing to shoot (and deal with whatever the consequences may be).
Accidental fire is extremely easy to occur. If your finger is touching the trigger, a simple spasm of the hand, a sudden sound or movement in the environment, or jostling from moving can cause the finger to pull the trigger. If you haven't aimed correctly at something that you want to shoot at, you'll very likely shoot something you don't want to shoot, including your own body parts. That's not even counting the fact that you may not properly control the recoil.
So normally, you need to train your discipline so that your first instinct when picking up a gun - especially during a stressful moment - will be for the finger to not go on the trigger until the gun is properly aimed at who/what you want to shoot.
I only trained with air guns some years ago, but discipline was still important; you wrap your hand around the handle with the index finger away from the trigger, make sure you have a good grip on it, raise the gun from the counter, aim, align the sights, and then you put the finger on the trigger and shoot. The one (1) time I accidentally put my finger on it before raising the gun, I shot at the wall while raising it and got a very angry look from my instructor. I was lucky that's all I got.
Since then, I've been noticing trigger discipline in media, and a lot of those get it very wrong.
To his big credit, Tatsuya Endo gets it right.
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Twilight's finger is resting parallel to the barrel of the gun, away from the trigger. While this entire pose is more artistic than realistic, it was still important to Endo to portray correct discipline. You don't do that if you don't know about it.
Similarly with Nightfall in the cover of the sixth volume.
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Again, artistic, not realistic pose. Still correct discipline.
More examples of artistic depictions with correct discipline:
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And then! An action pose!
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Twilight has a clear ready-to-shoot pose; he has a target, so finger goes on the trigger. (Normally the gun should be a little higher so he can properly align the sights but he's TwilightTM so I give it a pass)
Even Bondman has good discipline!
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Seeing correct discipline in those pictures piques my interest a lot, because it shows that the artist is consciously choosing when he'll show a finger on a trigger, making such a moment more impactful.
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Twilight aims his gun right on Edgar's head, his finger on the trigger. Again, you don't put your finger on the trigger unless you're about to shoot. If you're only threatening someone, it should still be off because one single unintentional fire can kill your target when you didn't mean to. Now, I can suspend my disbelief and say Twilight has super duper control over his body to the point of not being jostled or his hand not spasming suddenly because he's TwilightTM. So I instead focus on how serious Twilight was here about killing Edgar. Should Edgar do any movement, he's dead.
Again, it's about the knowledge of trigger discipline itself. When you portray a character not touching the trigger when they don't need to, showing the opposite hits harder.
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The Handler prepares the gun ominously, her finger off the trigger.
But when she aims it at the student's head...
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She's serious. She's made sure the students heard her prepare the gun, so when she threatens the student, he knows what he's facing despite wearing a blindfold.
Again, in a realistic scenario, in both cases their fingers would rest away from the trigger, because their intention is not to kill their targets unless absolutely necessary. But that might have confused the readers who don't know about trigger discipline, and might have made for less impactful moments. So I give that a pass, especially since Endo is shown to be aware of correct discipline.
The anime is also aware of this.
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Twilight is assessing the situation; finger is off the trigger.
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The Handler prepares the gun; finger off.
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She threatens the student; finger on.
(Of course, there have been moments both in manga and anime with incorrect depictions. But I can let those pass cause I know there's a lot of people involved in creating the art and things can get complicated)
A few more examples, from the Imperial Scholars meeting:
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Those are very short moments, but someone drew those stills and intentionally had the guards' index fingers extended and not around the trigger.
As I said above, those examples pique my interest because they are conscious, deliberate choices... and good use of that can make for an impactful scene... say, identity reveal happens, Twilight is aiming his gun at the Thorn Princess, but his finger is off the trigger. He urges himself to put the finger on it, but the damn thing won't move... she also cannot bring herself to stab him even though her dagger is right at his throat, and she notices his hesitation... Endo-sensei I am begging...
(don't spoil me if it happens in the manga, let me live in ignorance)
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thisismeracing · 1 year ago
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The phantom of miscommunication | LH44
― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x black!plussize!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.8k ― Warnings: not proofread; suggestive content; angst with a happy ending; mentions of an argument. Minors DNI! ― Summary: Dating a professional athlete is hard, and it’s even harder when you are famous too, and your schedules just keep crashing. how will their love beat their insecurities?  ― A/n: I took forever to finish this request, but I hope the waiting was worth it and I did the request justice 🤍.
⁕ Based on this request. ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)
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You often hear about loving someone being easy and natural, a fall that you would pray the other catch you from. Turns out, as Yn discovered with Lewis, it feels natural, and she’s sure he’ll be there to catch her if she falls, but easy? Love wasn’t that easy. Or life was hard with it. 
That’s at least how it feels for her while she finishes getting ready for the last performance of her Broadway play. Alone. She’s ditching her favorite dress because it reminds her of Lewis and how he would look smug whenever she wore it because she would need his help to zip her up. Lewis loved being needed. Not in a selfish way, but in a way that meant he loved to be helpful to those he cherished. Loved to hear their joyful tones while they thanked him, or the warm arms around his body, and in her case, the cold lips against his. 
Lewis loved loudly. 
Maybe that’s why they ended up fighting that last week. Because if he loved being helpful and seeing others happy, how could he not cancel a meeting to watch her finish the play she spent months traveling around overseas? 
Yn loved silently.
It was as if she liked to feel him slide beside her in bed at night, rather than hear the noise of the door closing, and knowing he would be there. The silence that led to the moment was deeply appreciated by her. And her love somehow worked similarly. She wouldn’t ask more than twice for something she wanted, something important, something someone who loves her should know. To her, it was enough her dad showed up, he didn’t need to tell her she did a great job, no words of affirmation or bouquet of flowers and gifts whatsoever. Just their presence. And that was what Yn was expecting from Lewis: his presence. 
She felt a tear slide down her cheek and she quickly wiped it before grabbing her bag and keys and leaving her house, making her way to one of her favorite cafes. There was something so unique, it mundane on finishing her tour home. Just minutes away from the house she shared with Lewis. A quick walk to her favorite café. The view of a grey, yet very beautiful London being her company. 
Yn goes about her day doing most things on the automatic mode. Sometimes, she would think about how she always dreamt of this day when she was just younger. Starting on Broadway as a black girl was a hard task, that, in her case, was two times harder because she was also a plus-size actress. Some of the producers would reduce her to her weight, her skin tone, or just about anything, but her talent. She had to prove herself over and over until she finally became a phenomenon in the country and then, years ahead, she started to have a significant international impact. That’s when she met Lewis. She had traced most of her career, she had a name, and so did he, and maybe that was the first thing that brought them closer: the fact that it seemed as if everyone was attentively watching over them not because they wanted to appreciate the work they put on, but because they needed them to do something wrong, anything wrong, just so this wrongdoing could be talked about more than the rights.
It was hard. 
And having Lewis there to share this burden made it a bit lighter. 
Having him there to love her, and recognize her more than anyone ever would, was heartwarming. Being someone else’s first pick felt amazing. And though the ups and downs of their careers existed, they always faced it together. Just like they shared their victories together too. That’s why it felt so wrong not having him on her Musical ending show. He shared the struggles of her waking up early, and going late to bed just so she could grab each emotion needed, and memorize all the lines. She was the leading actress. The main start. Yet, she missed having him be illuminated by her light. 
Truth is, Yn felt sad without Lewis, not that her happiness depended on him showing up, but they had created those small traditions. He would always be on the final stops of her shows. She would always make it to his most expected races. 
As the saying goes, a dream you dream by yourself is just a dream, but a shared one is a reality.  It’s hard to create a reality while in a long-distance, or mostly long-distance, relationship. You gotta be ten times more attentive and understanding. So when Lewis told her he had to make it to an interview before preparing for his race weekend without even waiting for her response, it did not feel like an understanding relationship, he, for the first time, did not seem attentive. And that hurt.
“But, love, why can’t you reschedule your interview for Friday after free practice? Or maybe even Saturday after qualy?” Yn asked, a pout on her lips, while Lewis was finishing packing his suitcase. 
He sighed, “You know very well the rush after those two, Yn.”
Fair enough, “Well, then do it online! That way you could do it right before my play, and then come to the Teather after. It’s not that far from our house, you sure can make it.” She was full of solutions, to a problem that felt like Lewis himself created.
When his eyes found hers, determination written all over it, he didn’t even have to open his lips and tell her an audible “no”, she already knew, so she tried to practice healthy communication. “Look, Lew, it’s just that this is our last stop and they were okay with it being in London when most of the time it happens somewhere in the USA. You know how this city is important to me, and this play, it’s just- I can’t help but feel like you’ve been lacking in terms of support lately.”
The British finally stopped packing, dropping his shirt inside the suitcase, and leaving with a quick glance towards Yn, mumbling how he didn’t want to fight. 
“But I want you to fight with me. Fight for me!” She trailed behind him, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen. 
“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Yn!” he snapped, and before he could apologize or backtrack she nodded, leaving the room. Love should never feel forced. She shouldn’t have to ask for it. 
The door slammed behind her as she made her way to the Teather to bury her head in work, sweat the hurt away, dance, and sing until the energy made her feel comfort. 
“Yn?” one of her colleagues asked, snapping Yn out of her memories. “They’re calling us for one last rehearsal before the show.”
She nodded and glanced at her phone, hoping to see a message, either an apology or a good luck one, anything that showed that he remembered, but there was nothing. Her shoulders slumped lightly and she made her way to the stage, the audience still deserved the best ending show, she deserved the best ending show. 
So that was exactly what happened: Yn shined along with the whole crew. They sang, danced, smiled, and even cried after the curtains opened to an outstanding ovation from the audience. That’s when Yn’s eyes found his, right on the front row, a bouquet of flowers on his seat, one of his shy grins, while he stood clapping the most beautiful performance he had ever seen Yn deliver.
Lewis was there.
Lewis wasn’t in an interview on the other side of the world.
He was standing there.
Smiling.
Clapping.
Proudly watching. 
And when her lips quirked up slightly he nodded as if knowing they still had to talk, but for now, he took the right decision.
When the curtains closed again and Yn made the walk to her dressing room, she wasn’t surprised to find Lewis there, “hey,” she said, closing the door behind her and staying glued to the wooden.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Lewis started. “Look, I’m-”
“Can we save all the headaches and solutions for when we get home?” She suggested, still a bit breathless from the play. “That is if you’re coming home tonight. Or are you flying to do the interview late?” 
There was a  sad smile on Lewis's plush lips, “I’m home, with you.” 
A breath of fresh air got into Lewis’ lungs when he noticed her shoulders relax with the news. She was relieved he would be home. She was happy to have him around. It wasn’t too late. 
“And I agree on saving the deep talk to when we get home, but I want to say I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t support you or love you enough to reschedule and work my way around my things. You’re my treasure, love. And I’ve been lacking lately, I’ve been stressed, and with my head all over the place, but I’ll get better. I promise,” and a Hamilton promise would always come true. You could count on that. 
Yn bit her lips, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell around her face like waterfalls just the same, and Lewis was in front of her in the blink of an eye, fingers brushing the wet splotches, lips kissing her delicate skin. 
“I’m sorry, I am so so sorry,” he whispered painly.
“I was so terrified we were about to get on a dead-end road. That you would stop showing up for my plays, and-”
“Sweetheart, breathe,” he held her face between his soft palms and Yn tried to even her breath with his. “I’m here, I’m always going to be here. You have my endless support and undying love, you can count on that.” He was a runner, one of the fastest drivers on the grid, but he could never run away from her and what she made him feel. What he could do was beat the phantom of miscommunication to the finishing line, get there first, say he’s sorry before it’s too late, and work so that this ghost won’t ever bother their relationship again. 
Yn nodded, gulping a bit more of air, and finally crashing her body on his in a tight hug. Lewis kissed her hair and found her lips with his, tasting their own tears and love. Yn mumbled how sorry she was for not being patient enough, and Lewis shook his head, kissing her again.
“I’m the sorry one, and I’m gonna make it up to it,” he explained. 
Yn arched her brows, looking into his honey eyes, “I know just the way you can express how sorry you are,” she smirked, undoing the bow for her white dress and making it cascade around her ankles. 
And Lewis did exactly that. 
He whispered apologies and love promises in her ear, the sound of a symphony with her body banging against the door. That was their private play. Their favorite one. 
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked it! I hope your Friday is amazing! Don't forget to reblog and leave me a comment if you can, it means a lot and it usually inspires me to write more *mwah*
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weepingwillowwonder · 22 days ago
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Aaa thank you for asking, I am doing well also :3
Could I request an Alastor x Male!reader who is also a deer like him? Either the same type or a different kind and our antlers are growing in for the first time in hell (since I imagine only Alastor can control his? Depending on your head canon of that :3)
And we ask Alastor for advice since it keeps getting in the way of things and are overly sensitive (I read that when deers first grow antlers they are very sensitive but I could be wrong) if that is alright!
Ah, I'm glad to hear you're well Strawberry <3 !
At this point, I swear I start every request with “so sorry I took forever…” This one is literally no different. Frfr this one took 5 ever and I'm sorryyyy ( T ~ T)
This request was actually kinda hard for me to come up with something, but I THINK I did okay with it.
~~~
Alastor x Male!Reader 
CW: Suggestive content (MDNI!!!), Reader is a deer demon like Alastor
‘Why would Alastor help me, of all people?’ 
---
You think to yourself as hesitation slowly creeps in the back of your mind. The hand you had raised to knock on the door of Alastor’s room slowly lowered to your side as you thought over your current situation. 
Relatively new to hell, you had just finally begun to familiarize yourself with the abrupt changes of your body and the instincts that came with it. Similarly to the radio demon, your form took on the characteristics of a deer: Fluffy ears sat upon your head and a matching tail on your backside reflected each and every change of emotion you took on. Up until now, the physical changes to your body were really only noted in those two areas, and if anything, your personality was drastically more affected. Your senses, heightened in your transition, forced you to become a little more aware of your surroundings, thus more cautious or even skittish depending on the situation. 
At this point, you tried your best to stay low and out of sight, in fear of retaliation from the people around you. And in most cases, that thought process worked. Somehow you managed to survive long enough to make it to the Hazbin Hotel and become one of its beloved residents, on your quest for redemption. Things were going seemingly well, despite mostly keeping to yourself. You learned quickly that some residents were easier to get along with than others, and others, more so Alastor, set off your internal alarm system. 
Despite your body yelling at you to run away from Alastor’s domain, you ignore the warnings in favor of dealing with your current problem. Your antlers were coming in. Of course they were, you were a deer after all. Reaching up to touch the currently small nubs on the top of your head, you immediately flinched. The feeling was foreign to you, hardly painful, but not quite pleasant either. Somewhere in the middle of overwhelmingly sensitive were your antlers and it only grew worse as they increased in size. The current problem? You didn’t know what set them off to emerge. One minute you’re minding your business, the next you find yourself stuck somewhere in your room with various items hanging from your antlers.
You chew on your bottom lip weighing your options: You can keep running in circles, trying and failing to find some sort of solution to keeping your antlers suppressed or… you can seek guidance from the only other deer demon that you know, who also just so happens to be a master at keeping his composure. Before you’re able to make up your mind, the door in front of you swings open to reveal a smiling, yet somehow annoyed looking Alastor.
“Hello, my dear! Exactly how long do you expect to linger in front of my room? You should know it is quite rude to mark in someone else's territory.” He comments, eyeing your panicked expression. “N-no! I wasn’t, that wasn’t my intention at all!” You blurted out, raising your hands in surrender. His narrowed eyes flicker upward towards your head, lingering for a moment before looking back at you. “Hm. Your scent says otherwise.” He says matter of factly, nose crinkling in disgust. 
The room suddenly feels considerably warmer as you feel the flush growing on your cheeks. Your mouth opens to defend yourself, but suddenly your antlers begin to rapidly grow in size. It takes everything in you not to cry out at the feeling, your lips pressing together to keep the noises inside. Catching him by surprise, Alastor reaches out with both hands to grab a hold of your antlers and forces you to your knees. “What on earth do you think you're doing?” He hisses, voice quickly turning into distorted static as he continues to hold you in that position, his antlers also emerging to challenge your own. 
Well this is not how you anticipated this conversation to go. A whimper slips past your lips, partially in fear and partially in something else as he holds you firmly in place beneath him. You didn’t account for Alastor potentially seeing you as a threat, his display of dominance made it very clear he wasn’t aware of your intentions. Instead, he mistook your current state as blatant disrespect rather than a show of inexperience.
The fingers wrapped around your antlers had you gasping for air. Your entire body quickly lights up as the stifling feeling of heat flows through you. Your fight or flight response kicks in and you attempt to pull yourself away from him, instead falling straight on your back when he suddenly lets you go. The feeling of static fills the air as Alastor comes to hover over you, smile tightening menacingly. 
“Please, I’m not here to fight! I don't want-, my antlers, I can't control them Alastor! I-I need your help! I was trying to ask for your help!” The words tumble from your mouth, flinching as he takes a step closer to you. He straightens up once you state your business and quickly shrinks down to his original form. “Hah! Well, why didn't you start with that?” He laughs lightheartedly, both hands now resting on his extended microphone. You stare up at him in complete disbelief.
“That would have saved us both a lot of trouble, you know… As for your antlers,” He leans over to inspect them closer, using a finger to trace the intricate patterns of them. “In my experience they tend to be quite sensitive to your emotions, similarly to these.” He playfully tugs at one of your ears before pulling away, chuckling softly as you reach up to the area where he touched you.
“Anyway…” he taps the inside of your thigh with his microphone, extremely close to the straining bulge in your pants. “Come find me once you’ve dealt with this problem, then we can discuss your concerns for control. How does that sound?”
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midnight-omega · 1 year ago
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Male Omega hc
I wrote these a while ago and never posted them. Male omegas and female alphas are my favorite dynamics and my favorite pairing fr so I wanted to do an entirely separate post on my boys
Pretty long so bear with me under the cut also its fairly nsfw at some points reader beware
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🍥 Omegas in general are considered a rarer dynamic but when adding primary gender to the statistic male omegas are one of the rarest of the 6 gender/dynamic combinations
🍥 Male omegas typically cannot impregnate. It can happen in extremely rare cases but it’s so unlikely no one really considers it a thing. They are biologically built to conceive and bear pups even tho this is a little more challenging for them
🍥 Male omegas have wider hips than an alpha or beta male, but narrower hips than a female beta or omega. This can make it difficult to give birth naturally. It’s possible and happens all the time! But sometimes it’s just too narrow and a c-section is needed
🍥 Male omegas have lower fertility rates than their female counterparts. They’re more on par with betas fertility wise which means they aren’t likely to have litters (3-4 pups) like females can. Males usually carry 1-2 pups at a time and anything more is considered a high risk pregnancy
🍥 Over the course of their pregnancy they do develop breasts
🍥 They’re much smaller than the other dynamics, more on par with a female alphas, but they do lactate
🍥 This is a permanent change! They do not reduce after the first pregnancy
🍥 This physically marks males who have carried a pregnancy at least until 3rd term, and those who haven’t
🍥 Unfortunately male omegas suffer from body dysphoria at a higher rate than other gender/dynamic combinations
🍥 There’s a lot that goes into this and it differs from omega to omega, but it boils down to masculine body parts that function and a more masculine stature vs how feminized the omega identity has become and the feminization of bearing children. 
🍥 Pregnancy and the development of breasts makes this a lot worse
🍥 Binders are rather popular and easy to find because of this. It’s highly recommended to use these instead of resorting to your own tactics to avoid any bodily harm
🍥 Top surgery is also available for male omegas who feel strong or crippling dysphoria, but they won’t be able to lactate afterwards. More traditional packs/religions frown on the surgery for this reason and prefer binders as a solution
🍥 Pharmacies, department stores, lingerie stores, anywhere you can buy a bra or healthcare products will probably sell some sort of postpartum binder!
🍥 Speaking of lingerie stores, stores that specialize in omega lingerie typically carry two styles of bottom for every top. One that accommodates afab anatomy and one that accommodates amab anatomy
🍥 Some omegas feel the opposite kind of dysphoria tho, where we just talked about those who are unsettled by their more “feminine” parts there are other’s who identify with their omegean side more and find their more masculine parts more upsetting
🍥 Tucking is a common solution, though this is kept kinda on the down low in omega only circles. You won’t find this sort of thing advertised in common media
🍥 I mentioned earlier that male omegas are p much sterile, so this makes them really popular hookups especially for other omegas going through a heat
🍥 In some areas male omegas are more demanded than alphas when an unmated omega wants a partner for heat
🍥 Not only is there really no pregnancy risk with them, but some argue they make better lovers in general since they understand the vulnerability of penetration/heat and how to work the anatomy since they’re built similarly 
🍥 The concept that male omegas do not get as much pleasure out of penetrating compared to receiving is a myth! Both kinds of orgasms are equally pleasurable and some males only enjoy penetrating just as others only enjoy being penetrated. Its a personal preference!
🍥 The omega micro penis is also a myth. Omegas are smaller on average but they’re really not much smaller than an average beta
🍥 Keep in mind that when concerning length most alphas are showers and most omegas are growers. Your omega man might end up bamboozling you :))
🍥 Omega cum is clear or opaque. No/little sperm = no white
🍥 Male omegas are at the very bottom of the unspoken hierarchy. Normally the male takes place above the female, but it’s not the case with omegas who’s primary biological function is to conceive. Since female omegas are better at that they’re considered above males
🍥 Male omegas are very rarely represented in leadership positions because of this. Even within packs it’s extremely rare to find a male omega in a place of power/respect
🍥 This also contributes to a lot of the adversity they face. Males are at a higher risk of mental illnesses, suicide, sexual abuse, drug use, and face higher incarceration rates
🍥 Lightening the mood a bit…
🍥 Males have a deeper purr than females. It tends to be quieter too, but that can vary from person to person
🍥 Male omegas growl at anything. Any small inconvenience or discomfort grrr… they can whine and keen like all omegas but on average they tend to be more gruff with vocalizations.
🍥 Male omega fashion varies widely from place to place. They can be more masculine coded or more feminine depending on the dominant culture of the area. Neck covering is popular with all omegas, so high necked outfits or matching chokers are always in style.
🍥 Weddings and mating ceremonies are similar in variation with options for more feminine coded or more masculine coded outfits. Jumpsuits with pants partially concealed by the top flaring down is the style for male omegas.
🍥 feminine coded examples:
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🍥 A more masculine coded example thank you kpop ur visuals are unparalleled bc i could not find more masculine ones for the life of me until i remembered ab6ix the future world tour in seoul donghyun booby titty outfit:
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🍥 Male omegas can be referred to as wife/mom or husband/dad depending on the preference of the individual. If someone needs to clarify which of their dads gave birth to them they’ll use the terms dam and sire, otherwise parental names are a toss up
🍥 All omegas have nesting instincts, if they don’t suppress them, but males and females have slightly different habits. Male omegas tend to pick very closed-in areas with one entry/exit. They also keep their nests extremely hidden, it’s unlikely you’ll know where it is unless you’re mated to or a child of theirs.
🍥 Males need just as much affection, attention, and physical touch as females do. If they’re aloof don’t let them fool you
🍥 If alpha male dude bros can be compared to overexcited dogs then omega males can be comparable to cats
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garbinge · 5 months ago
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10 Years
Chibs Telford x F!Reader
30 Day Fic Challenge
Word Count: 4k A/N: I'm realizing now it took me so long to write all these fics because they're all easily over 1k lololol. Back in my chibby erraaa <3
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of guns, violence, blood, bullet wounds, getting shot, death, and pining.
SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics
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You gave up the hope that the bell on the door gave you years ago. Everytime they hit the door, you’d look up to see who was there. It started with a smile, everytime you looked up you had a smile on your face, then it eventually faded to a neutral one, then somewhere along the line, you didn’t even bother looking up and just greeted the door with some remark. 
“Welcome to Ashby’s, holler if you need anything.” You didn’t even look up from the inventory you were doing. 
“Take your time, love.” 
The voice was enough to trigger all that hope again. You felt your body shake, your heart skipped, and your eyes immediately looked up to a sea full of leather at the door. 
“Mother of Christ.” You mumbled the words as you looked at the group of them, but mainly just at Chibs. 
“I’m looking for Maureen Ashby.” The blond you knew as Jackson Teller spoke up, his face looked tired, between the black bags under his eyes and the stubble growing from chin. 
“Maureen!” You called out, not taking your eyes off the boys. 
“Aye, don’t blow a fuse.’ She also had her head down similarly to you earlier.
“We got company.” You knew that would get her attention. 
Maureen didn’t seem as shocked to see them, but more so just not expecting them so soon. She brought them to the apartment out back, leaving you no time to talk with Chibs. It didn’t stop him from coming to leave a quick kiss on your forehead before he walked with the rest of the group. 
Work went by so slowly, your eyes were watching the clock and the door and you swore time went back minutes instead of forward. It didn’t help that the store wasn’t exactly booming with business, large groups of bikers hanging outside seemed to deter a lot of everyday business. 
You were closing up, locking the cash register and turning off the lights. As you went to the front door, you stretched up to grab the metal arm of the locking mechanism drilled to the top of the door. 
“Was coming to see you.” His voice didn’t startle you like one would have during closing time. You simply just turned around to see him standing at the doorway in the back that connected to Maureen’s place. He still had his SAMCRO jacket on, his hair was oily, likely the result of a long, stressful day. 
“Funny enough, so was I.” You went back to locking up the door, grunting to make sure the locks were tight. 
“Drink on me? Outside?” Chibs was pointing over his shoulder behind him. 
You nodded and walked towards but not without stopping to grab the gun you kept behind the counter and tucking it in your waistband. 
“In case you boys brought fireworks to the party.” It was said dangerously close to Chibs as you paused in front of him before walking up the stairs to Maureen’s place. 
“Mother of Christ.” He mumbled under his breath and looked up to the sky before following you upstairs. 
“Locked up, sent in the inventory order and I’ll be here tomorrow mornin’ for the keg shipment.” You spoke to Maureen who was smoking a cigarette at her kitchen table. 
“Aye,” she nodded, “don’t worry about the kegs, I’ll have McGee put a prospect on it, it’s theirs anyways.” She smirked slightly and looked at Chibs behind you. “Enjoy your night, loves.” 
You nodded with a gratuitous smile and opened the door to walk downstairs. The noise was loud, it was incredible what Maureen’s house muted, it was insane out here. Tons of yelling, laughing, fighting, a large fire pit going on. 
Stopping on the landing of the stairs you looked out to take it all in, despite you working so closely with the Ireland charter, you never went to these types of things. 
“We can go somewhere more private if you’d like.” Chibs’ voice was precariously close to your ear. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” As you looked over your shoulder you saw how close you were to him and it was hard to stand by your statement of not wanting to be somewhere private with him. But you held strong and started your descent down the stairs. “Get me a beer, will ya?” 
Plopping down on one of the wooden picnic benches, you made yourself comfortable, eyes glued on the fight happening between some of the guys until it moved onto Jax who was getting ready to fight. 
“Looks like Jackie boy made himself a bet.” Chibs spoke up placing the bottle in front of you and sitting down on top of the table, his head looking over his shoulder to continue looking at Jax. 
“Crazy to see him so grown up. Remember him in naps practically.” You teased. 
“We’ve all done some growing up, I think.” Chibs wasn’t looking at you as he said it but you knew what he was insinuating. 
“Have we?” Your eyebrows raised, curious how he was going to respond. 
“Aye.” 
One word, spoke enough volume to you though. 
“How’s Kerianne?” You matched how he was carrying himself, not looking at him as you spoke, sipping your beer as a way to give yourself something to do. 
“She’s good, upstairs with Trinity in her room.” 
“How was the ride over?” You were exhausting your small talk options. 
“A pile of shite.” He laughed at that one remembering the mess of just trying to get here. 
“It true?” You nodded towards Jax who was starting to get into the ring. “‘Bout Jax’s boy?” 
“Not too sure, was going to ask you if you knew or heard anything?” 
That made your face drop. “You’re kidding me, right?” Now you weren’t afraid to look at him. “That’s why you came to speak with me, to pull out any information I might have, what was your plan, Filip? Sleep with me and get me to pillowtalk any information I had? Maybe drown me in a little Irish courage and hope I’d spill it? Well here, I’ll save you the trouble, love, I don’t know shite, I’m lucky if I get a heads up about the fucking kegs let alone club business.” 
After you went off on him, you started to stand up to leave when he caught your arm. “You know that’s not why I asked.” 
Turning around with speed and fury, the anger faded almost immediately when you looked at him. After all these years, you could still tell when he was being genuine. 
“I don’t know anything about Jax’s boy, just know Jimmy’s boys like to come around a lot and rough up anyone who's not down with the cause.” 
It was like you spoke it to existence because as the words left your mouth, the gunshots from outside the fence began. 
Chibs was quick to jump in front of you and bring you down behind a couple crates and kegs. You were in his lap, his left arm was holding you tight against him, while his right was following his body and peering over the side of the wooden crate letting out shots back to where they were coming from. Your mumbled grunt of pain caused him to look back down at you where he saw the blood slightly pooling at his hand. 
“You’re hit.” He scrambled to find where the bullet was to apply pressure. 
“No shit, Chibs.” His nickname flew out of your mouth like it was so effortless, any other time he might’ve smiled at it but he was too busy pressing his arm against your shoulder. Despite the pain you were in, you were trying to take your good arm and reach for your waistband. 
“Stop squirming, you’ll bleed out.” He whispered it so he didn’t compromise your position. 
“I’m trying to get my gun.” You whispered back. 
That’s when his eyes fell on your pants and saw the handle of the gun. He knew he was low on ammo, one of the reasons why he stopped shooting haphazardly along with the fact that you were bleeding all over the place. 
He reached down to grab the gun from you and you practically slapped him with your head as you turned up to look at him. 
“What are you doing?! That’s MY gun, let me shoot at them.”
 “Trust me, I much rather you have it, love.” Chibs said with humor knowing very well that you could easily take out a person for every bullet in the magazine. “But you can’t even reach for it, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to use it.” 
“Might as well shoot me with it while you’re at it.” You said jokingly, out of frustration, as you leaned over so Chibs could grab it. 
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but someone already beat me to it.” He was leaning over himself now and looking to see where the shooting was but it had just stopped and the sound of tires squealing filled the air. 
After a brief second of silence, the terror and chaos on the lot began. Yells and screams replaced the silence. You heard the SAMCRO boys calling out for one another, you heard other names first but then you heard them call out for the man who was stopping you from bleeding out. 
“Over here! We’re hit!” He yelled out, now trying to adjust you in the best way possible. 
“We aren’t shit, Filip, I’m hit!” You corrected him despite part of you being smug by his use of we. 
“Love the commitment to the attitude, love, but let’s focus on just keeping you from bleeding out.” 
Jax materialized in front of you and was helping to stand the both of you up. Chibs moved in front of you now, still holding your shoulder with pressure, but the blood was still dripping down your chest. 
“We gotta bring her upstairs.” 
“Yea, her and a few others.” Jax said as he looked quickly at the lot where a good chunk of people were injured, some likely dead. 
“I’m fine, I’m fine, just give me a patch up and take care of me last, it’s my shoulder not an artery, I’m dripping blood because you’re using the arm of your jacket to apply pressure, give me gauze or something.”
“Hap!” Jax yelled and within seconds the bald, tall, skinny, and a little bit scary man appeared. “Get a rag or a shirt or something and come put pressure on this and then bring her upstairs.” Just as quick as Jax was delivering orders was as quick as both of them were walking away. 
Now with Chibs in front of you, the only thing you could really do was look at him. The adrenaline was obviously still coursing through both of your bodies as your chests rose and fall.  Your grip on him was tight and as the two of you just stood there with the madness happening around you. The reality began to settle in and the pain in your shoulder started to throb and to make matters worse you started to take in the scene around you. 
The screaming was now more apparent and you heard it alongside the ringing in your ears. As your mouth opened, and your heart sped up, your voice got hitched in your throat and almost inaudible sound came from your mouth. A hand was then cupping your cheek and lightly pushing your head to face forward. That’s when you looked at his eyes and they were calm, and grounded while yours must’ve looked panicked and worried. 
“Breathe.” He said it so soft it was insane to think someone could be so relaxed at a moment like this. In fact, you had once been the type to be relaxed at moments like this, years ago, which at this moment felt like lifetimes ago. But all that changed when you were shot, the first time, in a situation so similar to this. 
“I know what’s happening and you just gotta breathe.” Chibs spoke again, this time wiping the tear from your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pressed against your shoulder. 
Before you could answer, Happy had come back and everything changed within seconds. Chibs was no longer applying pressure to your wound, Happy was, and you were being rushed up the stairs. 
You took one more look around and saw Chibs helping Jax with the chaos, and that’s when you told yourself to keep it together. As you were ushered up the stairs, you swallowed your panic and just fully went into disassociation. 
“So why they call you Happy?” You spoke to the man who was applying rough pressure to your shoulder now. 
“Because I’m a happy guy.” He grunted, not bothering to look you in the eye when he spoke. 
As you reached the top quarter of the steps, only about 7 of them left, the door swung open. You expected to see Maureen but instead were met with Trinity and Kerianne looking mortified and curious as to what was happening. 
“Inside, NOW!” You yelled at them as you made it up the rest of the stairs. 
“Just like that.” Happy was a little impressed by your shout and comparing his explanation of himself being a happy guy to your outburst. 
Both of you stepped into the house and Maureen appeared and yelled similarly at the girls but ordered them to grab first aid. 
“Bring her here.” Maureen was clearing off the kitchen table. Happy helped you up on the table and stood there pressing the rag deep into your shoulder. It worked, the blood had stopped dripping down your body, you felt the throbbing ten times now. 
The chaos continued around you, you heard Chib’s voice a few times, giving medical orders, a few of the other guys too. 
“Talk to me, Happy.” It was the only way your mind wasn’t going to spiral. 
“Uh,” He said thinking of what to say, he wasn’t much of a chatter, he just did what he was told and killed people. 
“Think of something, anything.” You begged him as the panic started to set back in. “Talk to me about the fucking weather, about your hobbies, about your fucking favorite food, I don’t care, Happy but I need you to talk to me.” Your eyes were burning into his skull. 
“I like noodles.” He said confidently. 
“Noodles?” You questioned as you let out a laughy breath. 
“Noodles.” He nodded. 
“Well Happy, I make a mean Lo Mein and after this, I’ll owe you a meal.” 
There was a slight smirk to Happy’s face before he nodded. “Does it hurt?” 
“Not my first time being shot, so the pain’s familiar.” You spoke up through your gritted teeth. 
Happy leaned down to show you the scar on his head that looked about a year old. “Not my first rodeo either.” 
“Forgive me, Happy, but that doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. 
“Why?” He genuinely looked confused. 
“You’re terrifying, Happy.” Your head now was turned the other way trying to get a glimpse at what was happening down the hall. 
“Thank you.” This time his smile was large as he accepted what he thought was a compliment. 
What felt like hours passed but it was likely only minutes. The sweat was starting to pool at your forehead, the chills were starting to take over your autonomy. It was obviously alarming enough because Happy was calling out for help. 
One of the guys from the SAMBEL charter, Paddy, Chib’s nephew, came over and immediately started to pour liquid down your arm and grab whatever he could to pull the bullet out of your shoulder. Your screams were drowning out everything around you. As a few more people moved around you to help, you hoped one of them would be him but when you didn’t see his face, you didn’t have enough time to ask for him because everything eventually went to black. 
You woke up feeling someone rubbing your leg, the pain in your arm was more achey now, more stiff, and you felt exhausted. Sitting up, you saw Chibs at the foot of the bed you were in. 
“Trinity’s room?” You looked around taking in the posters and chachkeys around the room. 
“Aye.” He nodded, not looking at you. 
“I yelled at the girls earlier, told ‘em to go inside, think I scared ‘em.” 
“You did.” Chibs let out a chuckle. “But it was good, they needed to be scared so they stayed inside.” 
“You scared me too.” His head turned to look at you for the first time since you woke up. “I was patching up this lad who got a bullet to his abdomen. Heard your screams, reminded me of–.” His sentence stopped short, his words getting stuck in his throat. 
“To your point, it was extremely reminiscent of what happened all those years ago.” You bent your legs closer to you and patted the bed for him to get closer to you. “Paddy sewed me up good, though.” You referred to his nephew who was the one taking care of you, your eyes looking down at the gauze on your shoulder, a little blood was leaking through but it was normal. 
“Yea, after he spent 5 minutes trying to find the bullet in you that went straight through, the dumb lad.” Chibs shook his head at the stupidity of his nephew. 
“Just didn’t want me losing my life on a kitchen table in Belfast.” You shrugged with one shoulder, your good one. “Reminds me of another Scottish lad.” 
“You, uh, wanna come back to the states with me?” Chibs’ face was frowning, he was confused like he was trying to figure out what to do. 
“If it was that simple, I would’ve come with you when this first happened.” 
“When this first happened, I was in the IRA, this is different now, the club can protect you, I can protect you. Take you away from here, from Jimmy, from the mess of this Irish Catholic shiteshow.” 
“What would I do in the lovely United of States?” You asked him, entertaining his idea. 
“Could run the books at T M, could get you something at the club, or I don’t know, you could just be an ol’ lady.” 
“Ahhh yes, where I wait for you to come home and sit completely in the dark on everything happening, does that sound like my type of life, love?.” 
“Doesn’t sound too far off from what you’re doing now, love.” A female voice sent both of your gazes to the door to see Gemma holding a tray with an orange pill bottle, a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of tea
“Gemma.” The greeting wasn’t cold persay, but it definitely wasn’t a warm welcome. 
“Meds.” She lifted the tray and placed it on the desk to your right. “Don’t let your stubbornness stand in the way of your happiness.” 
There were a million things you could respond back to her with, but you weren’t exactly in the best position to argue with her, nor did you honestly want to. 
“All I’m saying is, we’d be happy to have you.” It was said in the most kind way for Gemma, still with a little control and attitude in her tone, but probably as genuine as she could be. 
Chibs stood up to grab the medicine and bowl of porridge for you, placing it on the nightstand so it was easily reachable. 
Before either of you could speak to what Gemma said, Jax was knocking on the door. 
“Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to check in.” He wasn’t cleaned up at all, there were still smudges of blood on his neck, his shirt, in his hair. 
“It’s like a bus station in here anyway, the more the merrier.” You waved him in. 
“Just wanted to see how you’re feeling, darlin’.” He didn’t step in further, just stayed leaning on the door. 
“Like shite.” You laughed as you popped the pill into your mouth and grabbed the mug of tea to wash it down. “How’s Happy? Hope I didn’t give ‘em a scare when I passed out.” 
Jax laughed, “I think you made an impression on him. He keeps talking about how you’re gonna make him Lo Mein?” Jax spoke confused but with a chuckle. 
“Glad I could provide a silver lining.” 
‘Maureen told me to give you these.” The packaged gauze was lifted up and then tossed on the desk next to the tray. 
“We should probably change those out soon.” Chibs nodded to the exposed shoulder that had the bloody gauze on it. 
“Couldn’t help but overhear.” Jax raised his eyebrows, knowing his window was closing, he didn’t want to interrupt an intimate moment of bandage changes between you. “And for what it’s worth, we’d love to have you.” 
“Would love to sit in anxiety in tandem with the other SAMCRO women.” You teased. 
“Yea,” Jax’s head fell. “Well, you could do that with Tara, at the hospital, where she works, as a doctor.” It was a humble brag that usually didn’t work in Jax’s favor, people tended to look at their relationship with confusion and wonder but he knew it’d help Chibs in this situation. 
You took in what he said, your idea of an ol’ lady was very old school, very misogynistic, and you were absolutely positive it still was, but hearing that Jax’s ol’ lady was a doctor, had her own path, well that was something that sat differently with you. 
“Coulda used her here, instead of Paddy.” This was your way of making light of the conversation, not wanting it to feel too heavy since you knew it was exactly that for Chibs. 
Jax smiled and looked at the ground and nodded. “Well, if you were in Charming you’d be taken care of.” And with that statement he was kicking off the door. “Holler if you need anything.” It was his way of lightening the mood, repeating what you said when they first arrived, trying to convince you to come back home with them. 
Chibs was starting to take your bandage off, not in the mood for the airy back and forth. He looked at the bullet wound and then his eyes flashed down to your hip where he knew where your other wound was. “This one isn’t going to heal as nicely as the one I patched up.” He was tossing the bloody bandage in the trash. 
You lifted your shirt to show the first scar. “But it’ll make for a good story.” 
“Everyone in Charming will love to hear it.” He tried to be nonchalant but it was everything but. 
“I can’t just jump into this, Filip. I haven’t seen you in almost a decade. Haven’t heard from you, not a note, not a phone call, nothing. And now I’m just supposed to give up my life to come with you to a whole other country?” 
“Well it ain’t like we’re leaving yet.” He was placing the new bandage over the wound. “We could spend some time together, catch up, you could make your decision once we’re getting on the cargo plane to go home.” 
“Cargo plane?” You raised your eyebrows and laughed. “You sure keep me on my toes, Filip.” 
He laughed, bringing his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek again. “I love you, lass.” His lips were moving onto yours and you melted into it. This was the only medicine you needed, it made every thought of pain and ache fade to nothing. 
Pulling away, he rested his forehead on yours and sighed. “And when I’m out, you could uh, catch up on these.” His hand was reaching into his jacket and a pile of letters were being dropped to the bed. “I did write. Just never sent ‘em. Really thought not bein’ in your life would be better but I never stopped thinkin’ of ya.” 
Staring at the letters, you let it all sink in. You were weighing the options, even though you knew which one you’d end up with. 
“Stay with me? Here?” You moved over on the bed so he could slide in next to you. “Tell me about the last 10 years.” 
125 notes · View notes
afreakingdork · 19 days ago
Text
You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 18
RotTMNT x Reader
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Donnie and celestial bodies are some of my favorite combos and who better than @anixolt to make that imagery possible
Rated: Teen and Up Audiences
Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You
Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff
Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?
Also available on Ao3
First 💛 Previous
“It can’t be this easy!” Donnie turned and held up the two hangers he had.
“Obviously not.” April’s eyes rolled up from where she was shoved against a wall. “We’ve been at this for hours, Donnie.”
“Hours?! What could you possibly-?!” Donnie stared at his best friend for a long moment. “Ah, you’re referring to the wardrobe choices. I clearly implied that shopping would be a lengthy process.”
“Then what are you talking about? One minute you’re saying maroon might invoke too much intensity and the next you’re shouting.”
“You agreed to come.”
“And clearly implied that I get to bitch about how long it always takes you to buy clothes.” She shoved off the wall and wandered towards him. “You’d do the same for me.”
The hangers in his grip slacked.
“So, what can’t be easy?” She took the wine colored slacks from him and brought them over to a rack.
“I’m going on a date.”
“Mhm.” She hung and tidied them with a care she picked up from one of her retail jobs.
“With Y/N.”
“Yup.” She pointed to the maroon suit jacket he had.
He held it out, giving up on the choice.
She returned, similarly dutiful, to put that item away as well.
 She was always like that.
Not just with his shopping choice, but him in general. She was the word ‘studious’ even if her impulse control was absolute zero. She’d leap away at the slightest interest, but April would never leave someone’s side. She listened and absorbed everything to a near fault then gave her opinion until his tympanum bled. She was not just an honorary Hamato; he’d loudly argue she was the only one who really represented the clan.
She was also still the only one who knew how to use the Seven Deadly Vipers move, much to the brother’s chagrin.
She was his best friend and he loved her all the same.
Even if she still hadn’t figured out how to follow his mind’s direction.
He wasn’t sure she’d ever learn.
Though, a case could be made for his unfathomable psyche since he’d aligned his brain waves with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. once and even that yielded a poor result.
Of course.
That was why she hadn’t followed his genius.
He’d trailed along a branching thought path and only verbalized the budding end of a limb.
“We like each other. We date.” Donnie explained.
“That’s how that kinda thing goes, yeah.” She gave him a once over before ducking into a changing room that was not his. 
He followed a few paces after her. “No, I’m relating that fact to my shouted statement!”
“Okay…” Her voice came along with a rummaging sound.
He was about to stick his head in when he just barely swerved being hit in the face with a set of hangers and their adjoining clothes.
“Nice! These are basically your size!” She cheered from the end of her extended arm. 
“April!”
She shooed him instead of apologizing.
He grouched his way back into his own changing room and eventually took her offerings.
She slammed the curtain shut behind him with a force that rattled the rungs holding it up. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Would you like to enlighten me on what you so callously understand?!” Donnie stared at his reflection.
“Put on the stone pants with the eggshell shirt.”
He played his weakest hand and gave her the cold shoulder by not speaking to show his dissatisfaction. 
It had never once worked in his entire life. 
He could picture her now. 
She was leaning against another wall with a foot kicked up without a care in the world. 
On her face was a lazy sort of smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing. 
He waited her out a few moments just in case before he rolled his eyes and picked up what she requested. 
She took the sound satisfactorily and finally answered. “Why are you trying to question the gift horse?” 
“Have you poorly phrased the saying about an equine’s mouth?” He shook the pants out of their hung creases.  
“Don’t answer a question with a question!” She jostled the curtains.
“You just did!” His voice pitched.
“Yeah, but mine had a point.” 
“Doubtful scoff.” 
She actually scoffed. “What do you want, Donnie? You want it to be hard? You want to fight for love? You got grand romantic gestures on your mind? You want to ride in on that equine of yours and catch your beloved on the tarmac so you both fly away to Lisbon together?”
“That is not how Casablanca ends.” He stepped into the pants one leg at a time.
“Yeah, it’s a snooze. Never could make it all the way through.”
“I won’t spoil it.” Donnie wriggled the fabric up his hips.
“’Nita already has, but whatever, you’re the one dodging questions. You brought this up so why are you being snarky?”
“‘Love wins’ does it not?” He studied the enclosure to best do the fly up. “That’s a victory. You work for it. It should be difficult.”
“Should it?”
“Did you not fight for yours?”
“Can we really be called normal cases? Did I quite literally fight Casey for years? Yes. I’ve also fought alongside her.”
“Consider my point validated.”
“No!” She must have sat down because her feet suddenly slammed onto the floor. “Don’t pull that shit! Casey was raised to be a weapon.”
His responding hum warbled.
“That’s not-!” She stormed toward him.
He got the fly done and turned to where she was sure to rip open his dressing room door.
She tossed back the curtain and glowered at him. “I hate your haughty ass! You guys were made to be weapons, not raised that way! It’s not a competition, but I know what you’re doing! You’re finally asking something you're vulnerable about, but you’re trying to twist the conversation back on me because you can’t deal with being as emotionally soft-” She jammed a finger into his plastron.
Force took him a step back.
“-as-” She jabbed him again.
He was two steps away from the wall and knew that would be his destination.
“-your-”
He slipped on the next slide of his foot and his shoulder made contact early.
“-shell!”
He looked down at her hand and followed it to her face. “Done with your bottom dwelling blows?”
Her hand snapped up and caught his beak in a harsh flick. “Make me the bad guy one more time! I dare you!!”
He held a hand over his face and let the sting linger.
He deserved that.
Everything she said was right.
When things between you and him had been bad, how much had he complained?
When he perceived his feelings for you as something to squash, he’d talked off the others’ ears. 
He felt his heartache loud because complaining came easily. 
The moment his love became something positive, he clammed up. 
He’d barely talked to the others. 
It wasn’t necessary. 
He also couldn’t. 
Tender heart.
There was something to the thought that it would need the same shielding as his shell. 
“Okay…” He spoke once, but heard it wasn’t enough so he tried again. “Okay.”
When his head came down, she was watching him with a sharp guard.
“I’m sorry.”
She relented with a sigh. “You’re catering the stakeout you leveraged for me being here.”
“Understood. Are you still watching your soda intake?”
“Yeah, I need the fizz though so get the bubbly waters, but don’t cheap out.”
He gave a sharp nod.
She searched for the eggshell top, located it, and took it off the hanger. “Next thing out of your mouth is gonna be you spilling.”
He took the offered shirt and slipped it on, one arm at a time. “We, all of us, have a track record.”
April adjusted her body language to listen. 
“Love is… difficult. It is constant work. You have to make room for this other person all while your facilities are inhibited because of the aforementioned emotion and that doesn’t account for…” Donnie swept a hand down his body. “This and not the ‘this’ the other’s talk about. I accept being a mutant and relish in it. The ‘this’ as in the hero part. The destiny part. The ‘I have to save New York so, yes, I will disappear suddenly, at any given hour,’ part…” 
She tipped her head, fully understanding. 
“Then there’s how I am. Cavorting with me is not for the faint of heart. My personality is a demanding one. I want until I don’t. I overthink everything. I will subvert any ask for a change in my person simply because it irks me that it was even a consideration!” 
She moved forward to stop him. 
He cut her off with a look. “Y/N knows all of this and…” 
He took a breath and began to do his buttons. 
Each one had a point. “I feel as though I’ve done nothing to earn this. In fact, I’ve actively done the opposite and pushed them away…but… here we are and it’s so easy. Y/N accepts my flaws, faults, failures, and proprietorial attitude with open arms. The fact that we are compatible at all appears to be a statistical anomaly! Being with Y/N is… It’s… I swear I had an entire monologue prepared, but now I can’t remember a single thing! It should be hard! I remind myself constantly to not mess things up! My mind is churning a mile a minute when it's with them to read their needs, to scrape by any information possible to make them more comfortable and yet, in spite of that, because of that, while also doing that… it’s as if I don’t think at all. Nothing matters except how we are intrinsically drawn to each other and that’s too easy.” 
He got to his collar and then slid his fingers beneath it to adjust it. 
“It shouldn’t be that easy…” He punctuated the end of his outpouring with a flick of his digits and turned to show April hit outfit. 
“Sometimes…” She did a motion for him to turn. 
He did so with his limbs out like a computer model.
He earned himself a scolding smile, but she more so appraised the ensemble. “... Love is like that.”
He cocked a brow.
“Easy.” She spoke flat and to the point.
His gaze drooped.
“Listen to me.”
He looked at her against his slack neck.
“That’s not a bad thing. That’s something people search their entire lives for and you, of all people, deserve that. You’re a good person Donnie. Always have been, but love doesn’t care what you’ve done. Love just… is! If it comes for you, then it comes. It’s gonna knock down everything and make sure you know it. What matters is what you do about it.” 
She nodded to the mirror. 
He used it to check his outfit.
She stood just behind him and craned an elbow to his shoulder so she could be part of the pose. “Instead of worrying about what it isn’t, enjoy it for what it is.” 
He pursed his lips.
“This though…?” Her arm came down so she could pinch his sleeves. “This ain’t it. You’ll get dumped for this.”
“You’re being dramatic.” He let his posture go thematically limp. 
She swatted him.
There was immediate levity and he felt soothed in many ways. “I’ll start: why is this knit sheer?!”
“I can see your plastron lines! That’s like y’alls equivalent to nips out!”
“Appalling and the fabric on these pants!?”
“It’s all bunched up! They look terrible on you!”
He half pushed April out of the dressing room while she laughed.
“Where to next?” She wondered as he made a grand gesture of closing the curtain. 
“I’m done for now. The perfect date outfit will not be found today so we shall begin preparations for your stakeout.”
“Finally! Something fun!”
Donnie hummed his irritation and undressed.
She chuckled for a moment, but cut herself off. “Wait, that’s it!”
“What?”
“Go battle ready. Suit up! Y’all have classic silhouettes nailed!”
“You can’t see it, but picture contempt on mine features! You dare suggest I go on a date in my hero outfit!?”
“If it ain’t broke!”
He threw back the cloth and held the clothes out for her to put on their hangers. “A time and place, dear April!”
She did so with a roll of her eyes and a tuck of a phrase out the side of her mouth. “And he thinks he’s gonna have it easy.”
“What was that?” He passed her knowing full well what she said.
“Nothing!” She jeered.
-
It was the day of your date. 
You kept having to remind yourself because it felt like any other day. You talked to Donnie so regularly that today appeared to be no different. You saw him just as often with the last being a few days ago so even that event felt like a learned one. This outing was special due to its context and you scolded yourself for being so casual. 
Any other time you’d be in a tizzy, but you couldn’t find your usual anxiety. 
All you had was a fluttering excitement that made doing anything else a chore. You wanted to be out with him right now, but the clock always seemed to read early. It wore down minutes at an excruciating pace until it suddenly appeared to be the last minute. You slapped your cheeks for the sake of keeping yourself in line and flew to the door phone as soon as there was a buzz. 
“C-coming!” You held the button to respond before fleeing. 
You made sure you had your things before flying down the stairs. Donatello bobbed to eager attention as soon as he could see you through the door’s glass. It was two tugs to get to him and you both collided for the sake of it. 
You breathed in his chest and burbling thoughts urged you to exert first date decorum. 
Only, Donnie didn’t care to follow it either and when you eventually parted it was more for time’s sake then to compliment each other’s attire. 
You had a set schedule after all. 
One you had both equally contributed in creating. 
You would first go to the restaurant owned by the kind man from the dumpling night market. Donnie’s research lent itself toward a time table while yours went with finer details. You had a tidy taxi ride counted out with an ever updating traffic preview which took you to the restaurant. There, you had a clean 120 minutes to dine before there was a short 15 minute walk to the planetarium. If all went according to plan, it would be the perfect digestion distance so you could watch your double planetarium feature in peace. 
The clock had now started and the cab waited graciously at the ready behind Donnie from where he hailed it. The cabbie paid you little mind as Donnie held the door for you. The ride was filled with latent conversation about which dishes to choose and led you to a quaint brick storefront. The driver was paid and it was a few short steps before a push of a door came with the scent of spices. You were thanking Donnie for his multitudes of kindnesses when the aforementioned owner caught sight of you both. 
As soon as the man saw Donnie, he began to talk. For the first few minutes, it was fine. He had greetings and kind words along with recommendations. He folded you both in through the ordering process and gave tips on which things to eat. He spoke of what was fresh and even ran off into the kitchen to check some sort of stock before finally ringing you up. It was there that you assumed the transaction would end, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He instead mooned about when the shop had opened. Your increasingly scant replies went unnoticed by him so Donnie stepped in to stop the onslaught.
Your date’s voice immediately became grated and he inched toward the seating area with a hand ready to guide you. You pressed into the appendage as a signal for him to move, but the owner was the one spurred on. He rounded the counter to give you what he called the ‘best seat in the small house.’ You were led to a table like every other which Donnie loudly proclaimed. It sent your head down in shame at the bitter comment, but the restaurateur only laughed. Donnie gave a synthetic one back with a bout of sarcasm as he took his seat. You had planned to sit across from him for date banter, but the owner plopped down where you expected to. 
You were left standing out in the proverbial rain until Donnie urged you to join him. You scooted into the booth indelicately and once there you shrank down at the abysmal state of the hour. There was no way you could hit any of your talking points in this state. The owner’s voice taunted you in a drone and you slumped so much you debated sinking under the table. 
Donnie’s arm pressed to yours. 
You weren’t immediately moved, but soaked up the warmth there. It helped build your limp body and, when your gaze surfaced, it was to find your date pinched in near rage. Every inch of his body was signaling dismissive cues and his teeth ground whenever he was prompted to respond. The owner seemed none the wiser and tapped the table along with his words. 
The recipe for a hurricane, you were caught along with the chilled undercurrent of the storm. Seeking to say it’s energy with that same warmth you once leeched, you leaned into Donnie. He didn’t react obviously, but he also didn’t dismiss you. Thinking that might be sign enough, you chanced resting your head against his arm. 
That one gamble proved to be fruitful as a couple entered the restaurant and the owner was forced to leave. 
He bid you all a good meal and with that, his speech slipped away as a backdrop. 
You weren’t sure if you should go back to your side of the table, but Donnie squashed the thought as he suddenly dropped his weight against you.
You squeaked under the pressure and did your best to hold him up as his entire head flopped over yours. “Exhausting.” 
You opened your mouth to speak, but a woman was headed toward you with dishes stacked upon a large tray. Before you could do anything else, your table was soon packed with way more dishes than either of you ordered. Donnie complained to the waitress, but she dismissed you with a wave that you read as sympathetic. 
It sent warning bells off in your mind and you caught Donnie’s hand to tell him that something was about to happen, but the owner very clearly called out before you could. 
You looked wearily to find him pointing the two new customers toward your table. Donnie lit with complaint, but the owner wouldn’t hear it. You became a group of five and that meant you had to eat and eat well as you were under peak scrutiny. The momentary lapse in attention was nothing more than the eye of the storm and somehow more regulars got wind of this gathering and were joining you. Chairs were pulled up and the large meal was further supplemented. Your date was something celebrated by people you didn’t know and your existence shrank as they all prodded Donnie incessantly. 
You were left with questions relating to dating a mutant which felt demeaning. You had bitters ready on your lips about how you would know if they would shut up, but you knew that to be unfiltered drivel best kept to yourself. It was the knee jerk reaction to your date being hijacked and not something you would ever mean. You further reduced the thought because, if anything, you decided you should have been upset about the way they were treating Donnie. Your inclusion was happenstance because he was their prime interest. While their pleasantries said they were being kind, their focus on his mutant status was nearing objectification. 
You sent this regard to him in a glance, but he had no time to accept it. He was volleying around the conversation around him in a ping pong of his pupil. It made him a powerful vision. He kept up with the conversation and responded only with a barbed tongue. Each time he lapped poison, it brought further interest as if angering him were part of the game. Instead of succumbing, he took it as an allowance that he had little to withhold and he sounded his displeasure. His concerns were brushed off and it was his staunch profile that you stared at. His strong chin was a proud one and he used it in a flick to comment about how each table required a no loitering sign. The group held a long pause before they burst out into laughter, much to Donnie’s chagrin. 
You were about to help when a fork shot toward your face. 
You jumped and found it was a bite of food being offered by someone and you were told, not asked, to try this and that.
You stumbled through something too spicy and giggles followed your coughing fit.
It had hit the back of your throat, you wanted to scream.
They laughed.
Laughed on your special date day.
Donnie was the first to get your water and you wanted to call everything off.
For the first time in what felt like hours, your eyes met as he passed the cup. 
Nothing, but apologies swam in his gaze. 
You could leave, you read off of him. 
It was an offer, but not a demand. 
Part of him felt that same tether. 
This was the restaurant you picked and for better or worse you had paid for the meal. 
It couldn’t be helped. 
Struck by the thought, you sipped the drink. In New York, in a family owned restaurant, there was a chance of this sort of occurrence. A woman across from you who had once offered a fork now passed you a napkin. You took it with a small gratitude and wiped delicately around your eyes. You feared the spice sneaking into your retinas, but you had already allowed your vision to turn red. 
Was your current situation an actual aggravating one or had you decided to see it that way?
You tried to think why you had decided to lean into the side of irritation. Things going wrong weren’t necessarily a given with Donnie. While your relationship had been a bumpy road, it wasn’t like a tone was set. You had a track record in general of being anxious, Donnie had only happened to appear as a way to assuage that. It was a remedy to the time he was your antagonist, but those days were long over. Everything with him had been an evolution and, since you’d welcomed your feelings for him, he was settling into his new romantic role; you both were. 
You became painfully aware of the need to reframe and refocus.
You had unknowingly set expectations. 
Why?
If you removed the date parameters, you imagined this might be fun. 
You had never been taken under the wing of strangers like this before. While in one context they were rude, in another they were giving. They welcomed you in like family and treated you like you had always been a part of it. Their intrigue could also easily be read as that of natural ribbing. They gave you heaps more food than you paid for and wanted to hear your opinion on each dish. Though you had been more a passive participant at first, they seemed to notice your lack of pep and had prompted you to join. 
Your grievances slipped away as a special dessert was presented. 
It was apparently not on the menu and you were suddenly being thanked for your time. The entire air shifted and your sportsmanship was congratulated. Aunties teased you and said if you two lovebirds could survive this, then you could survive anything. You didn’t know what possessed you, but you made a casual comment about Donnie’s family being worse. The group devoured the statement and you felt like you were on top of the world.
Had you really just interjected in a conversation and somehow done it exceedingly well?
You wanted to immortalize the moment.
You might have had the jeers not turned on Donnie for only taking you out on a first date after having met his parents.
Donnie loudly berated the primordial dating system and for that he was met with patting hands.
He puffed up like a cat under the assault and this time when he caught your eye, you passed more than just commiseration. The look held a tender undercurrent and you knew it was because your bond with him had been looked upon favorably. The validation helped buoy your date who was wearing on his last nerve. To help, you doled him out a specific portion of malva pudding. He took it gratefully and there was a whistle that suddenly dismissed the onlookers.
As soon as they were clear, Donnie immediately pressed into your side. You understood his need for closeness stemmed from being forced apart and you ate your dessert with your heads together. There were whispers of your cuteness from around the room which you patently ignored and Donnie checked in. You did the same with him and it was agreed that this meal had not gone as planned, but you’d try again. You’d try as many times as it took and with that promise that he deployed what he called his best ice breaker and asked you what your favorite dinosaur was.
Whatever you thought a date should be started then. 
You no longer agreed with the sentiment, but it came with everything you expected. 
You talked. 
You enjoyed each other’s company.
You embodied the epitome of fluff.
Why had you ever worried?
Even if there was a momentary lapse, you had faith that time alone with Donnie would eventually come. 
He was there with you. 
Opportunity was sure to manifest. 
If not, you would make it so. 
Then the owner mentioned a shift change and Donnie went ramrod straight.
He scrambled for the actual time and it was with grave features that he told you that you now had 10 minutes to make the 15 minute journey to the planetarium.
You lost all sense as you ran out of the restaurant. 
“I’m n-not s-sure-!” You wheezed and did your best to keep up.
Donnie had your hand and was doing his best not to yank you. “We can make it. It’s only two more blocks.”
“W-we w-won’t-! T-the s-show-!” You gasped and in glimpses saw hesitation on his face.
You were too slow.
You were too weak.
You were too full.
It was a lethal combination.
“If we don’t make this one then the next is in 2 hours!” Donnie was all the more determined by the fact.
Was going to the next show really so bad?
You wanted to ask, but your breath wouldn’t stay in your body.
You would get to spend more time together.
That was a good thing.
You could picture it: with a leisurely pace the two of you would cutely go from exhibit to exhibit in the planetarium’s showroom. You could digest your meal without a giant screen overhead and hold his arm as you read plaques together. He’d tell you about the Milky Way because he was a resident there and you could hear from a first hand source that it wasn’t like anything you ever imagined.
No, you were running.
You were then gaping like a dying fish and Donnie, who hadn’t broken a bit of sweat, was talking to a woman at a kiosk.
Then you were inside where the AC only seemed to mock your flooded body.
“This way.” Donnie was still unperturbed as he continued down a corridor.
He hadn’t pulled you once, but the tether of his hand felt like a chain.
You usually loved holding hands. 
That was when you were heading at normal speeds.
That’d be nice.
You could take a stroll.
You could add a park backdrop.
You stumbled in a dark room where the previews barely illuminated the walkway.
Donnie must have had the room’s map memorized because he was steadfast in heading toward your seats.
“Here!” Donnie was far too chipper.
He released you and sat down.
He watched you expectantly.
Could he not see your face?
You supposed not because the screen chose that moment to go dark in preparation to run the film. It left you fumbling blindly for your armrests. Once you got those it was feeling around for the bed of your seat and forcing your ass to make contact. Then you could sit unfettered as the movies rolled.
“Welcome-!!!”
The voice boomed straight through your skeleton.
There was no way to reframe this. 
You could barely think while the pre-recorded announcer detailed your double feature.
You knew this.
You studied.
You had researched the shows.
This first film was one about super massive black holes and then another was about super volcanoes.
It was meant to be superb.
You drearily closed your eyes and sank into your recliner.
The screen tore through your lids and you were shaky in cracking them open.
You burped on contact with a reverberating bass.
It caused acid to eat up your esophagus and you feared the worst. You had eaten too much food and run too far upon it. It had no chance to settle and now it was stewing in the pit of your stomach. You sent all your mental fortitude to strengthen your guts. You weren’t going to puke on your first date with Donnie; you were just overtaxed. You were already resting so all you needed to do was sit back and wait for your nausea to pass as the universe above you collapsed in on itself.
You focused on breathing through your nose to keep your mouth shut. Any extra saliva being produced was not going to go towards anything else. A man droned on about the starry skies. Distances were spoken of and one of which was that of the Earth to the moon. It was meant to give you perspective as you were then flung further out into the cosmos. Your partner was not so far away and you snuck a glance at him as your churning stomach slowed to a gentle lapping of waves. 
It then nearly flipped at the sight of him. 
The very galaxy reflected in his wide eyes.
His dilated pupils were the first sign that he was utterly enthralled with the film. From there his lips were parted in awe. His hands sat tightly folded across his abdomen as if to keep his excitement in place. Space was him and he was more than a rock circling a planet. He was perspective and your heart thumped fast from where it had just started to slow.
Him enjoying the show was one thing. 
Him liking it to this extent spoke of something far greater.
You wanted to give him this. 
You were going to take this man to every place that was even sort of related to his interests.
You were going to create an environment where he could always be this happy.
He would do the same for you and you knew it.
He blinked once, seemingly after having not for a while, and turned to you with a finger raised in point.
He caught your staring and that eager look was now one just for you.
You might have floundered if you weren’t laying down.
The movie moved on, but Donnie’s attention had shifted. He came in close and quietly asked how you were. You told him honestly about your toil and he asked how to help. You brazenly told him that this was helping and he sent you a devilish look. He tucked in closer with a tease about where your eyes should be. You pecked his cheek in retaliation and he rumbled sweetness before gesturing down.
You looked and he had a grip on the arm rest. You gave him space and he showed you that there was a mechanism that loosened it. You sent your gaze up at him and in moments he had the thing keeping you apart moved out of the way. He asked cautiously for permission to touch you and you did the same as you scooted half onto his chair. He took you in with an arm around your shoulders and you settled until you could comfortably seat your head against his plastron.
Once situated, you were the picture of comfort and all concerns of your upset stomach evaporated. Bubble guts had become swarming butterflies and you still weren’t watching the movie. Instead, you were reeling over the intimate positioning which somehow seemed more intense then the kisses you shared. You supposed it was the prolonged horizontal contact and the double entendre there had you beet red.
Donnie pet your arm to add insult to injury and you rooted into him. His scent wafted up and you were further pacified. You wished the film series was longer than two and eventually your blood pressure evened out. A narrator was talking about star destruction and you mentally mourned poor Leo. It was a joke you thought Donnie would appreciate, but then you would have to tell him that you thought of him as the moon. You hadn’t yet and that was something you pocketed.
You would tell him.
Not now.
Now was perfect.
You were close to dozing by the time the first film ended.
You roused by the way the narrator’s voice led and got to see a summary of future black hole contenders before credits rolled. Donnie then squeezed you for your attention and asked what you thought. You instantly admitted all you missed and he dutifully filled you in. His explanations were far messier, but at least you could ask questions. He was delighted to answer and you almost didn’t want to stop when the next film began.
You shared a look that said you would continue your discussion later and this time you turned over to give the screen your attention. A man spoke of the Yellowstone Caldera and you saw idyllic imagery of the national park. Herds of bison roamed and all seemed calm until you were told that animals had an inherent sense for danger. The film soon devolved, citing wildlife already fleeing the area before charts popped up to show what the imminent US volcanic eruption would look like.
You weren’t in the zone that would be immediately wiped out.
You were in the territory that would be blanketed in years of ash.
The temperatures would plummet.
The food supply would disappear.
The wind would blow toxic fumes.
There was no recovery and, according to this film, it was either happening right now or could happen any millisecond.
The doomsaying went straight to your core.
How could you escape?
You couldn’t, the narrator told you point blank.
Planes would be grounded.
Ships wouldn’t sail.
You would be trapped.
You would die.
You were going to die.
You turned over in horror.
You moved away from Donnie and away from any modicum of comfort. It didn’t seem believable, but you doubted Donnie would go to a show that was anything less than produced by an accredited institution. You had only just started living and everything was going to be cut short.
It wasn’t even by your hand.
That was somehow worse.
If you were your own worst enemy then you could stomach it, but death by natural disaster seemed like cruel fate.
Why now?
Why when everything had started to look in your favor?
Donnie’s hand curled over your arm.
You flinched deeper into your seat.
It felt like if you tucked your head far enough into the musty chair corner then maybe you’d block out the continued sound of your demise.
Donnie pressed your limb and begged you to respond.
You wearily rose to send him a quivering lip.
You couldn’t reign it in.
He was around you in an instant.
He blocked the screen.
He slid his goggles in place around your head to silence the movie.
He created a protective shell around you.
“Y/N.” His voice came clear through your headphones.
“How do you do that?” You choked.
“Comm in my tech gauntlet, but that’s not important.”
You shook your head.
He shushed you in a soothing way.
“No, it’s not important. We’re just going to die.”
“We’re-?” He repeated a key word before the sentence struck him. “Oh, Y/N…”
“Don’t…” You turned away from him. “Don’t. I didn’t know. I don’t…”
“Do you mind looking at me? I need to see your reaction since I misjudged it once already.”
You squinted for a moment before you looked over your shoulder at him.
He held a hand up to your face and curled his fingers.
You set your cheek against his palm and wallowed.
He smoothed the skin with his thumb and studied you for a long moment before he spoke. “This film is a farce.”
Your brow pinched. 
“I thought you came to the same conclusion and were so similarly put off that you couldn’t stand to keep watching.”
“That’s… one way to put… it?”
“Y/N, while this…” He sneered. “… scenario is possible, the likelihood is something to the tune of 1 in 700,000 plus.”
You blinked once.
“Which is around three decimals points below the zero percentile.”
Your lips rounded, but no sound came.
“As in very, very, note the emphasis, unlikely.”
You snagged his arm.
He cradled you. “I have a lengthy admonishment prepared for the box office. I was already furious that they released this purportedly cautious drivel, but now knowing that it has upset you?
A rarity, you thought just this once you would let Donnie unleash as much spite as he wanted.
“Perspective.” He chuffed. “Yes, we will die. Yes, we could, theoretically, die by volcanic eruption, but in my, and I do have quite a lot of faith in this particular observation, opinion, I don’t believe a caldera on the other side of the country will be the cause of our demises.”
You leaned into him.
His beak bumped your cheek several times. “I will blanketly surmise old age will do both of us in.” 
“Oh?”
“Yes.” He purposefully nuzzled you. “Something peaceful. We’ll be old and wrinkly toget-”
You felt him bite his own tongue.
Pain curled him closer and you were struck by how much of him was pressed to you.
He was spooning you and, in dipping further down, he tucked into your shoulder.
You were tentative for a moment before holding his head.
He exhaled, recuperating.
It gave you some time to think.
“Perspective, huh?” 
He gave a bare nod.
“It’s like… shifting expectation.”
He made a curious sound.
You shook your head. “Today has been…”
He finally lifted his head.
You looked into his eyes. “... like the movie, I guess?”
“Which?”
You wriggled to see him better and tried to buy yourself time to decide. 
The amount you gathered in rolling onto your back either wasn’t enough or that was the point. 
You went with the latter. “Both.” 
He adjusted to better lay beside you and watched from overhead. “I don’t understand…” 
Credits rolled behind him.
You brushed his jaw.
“A double feature of good parts and… cautionary drivel…” 
“Cautionary…?” His being steeped in worry.
“N-not l-like w-with y-you!” You almost sat up and bumped your heads in the process. 
He gave you further space and you mourned it. 
You watched his lips sour into a curved shape.
You moved to catch him before he spun further away from you. “Not you and not us.” 
He studied you. “Y/N…” 
“It’s like…” You swept a hand over your face to hone your thoughts. “A reminder to not… take everything at f-face value.. There’s more… More to the story and… it’s… well… easy to forget with you…” 
His alarm did not soothe. 
Your heart clenched and you pleaded with him to understand. 
He could only hopelessly take your hand. 
The lights came up around him.
You both sat up along with others and there were a few murmurs.
“Geez, what a downer!”
“I have enough existential dread!”
“Add that to the ‘everything’s on fire’ list, literally.”
You looked out at the people leaving and then at Donnie who had retreated to his seat.
“You know before our date?” You tried again. 
“This morning?” Donnie offered.
“L-longer, how we’ve both been… waiting for today…?”
He gave a nod. 
“This morning…” 
He gazed at you dully. 
Your shoulders came up in apology. “The hours leading up… I had… trouble remembering this was… a date…” 
His head tilted. 
You pinched the tip of your thumbnail. “I thought h-how… could this be… different…? It’s us… Us together… We like being together… but then when we’re out… everytime something… got in the way… I got so frustrated… like this our date! How c-could anything get in the way of u-us!?” 
He blinked in surprise. 
“Nothing… really did though… Did it…? I k-kept thinking it was… but w-was it…?” 
For a long moment, he watched you. 
Then he stood and dusted his pants off. 
“Not really, no.” He held out his hand. 
You took it and he helped you up. 
“Do you ever wonder why?” He spoke a little distant and led you down a walkway. 
You followed after and enjoyed the slow pace. “Why us?”
The back of his head nodded. 
You considered it until you were back out in the planetarium’s lobby. 
He veered you off, out of the way of patrons, and appeared to wait for the answer. 
“No.” You decided with a small smile. “Well… maybe in an i-ironic way… like ‘why you of all people?!’ but as soon as I was allowed… Everything since… liking you has been the easiest decision in the world.”
He made a surprised peep.
You didn’t give it attention in case it embarrassed him. “I know hard… Trust me… It’s living that’s hard, but knowing you’re there…? That you’re a given? You cheered me up every time anything got me down. Just… looking at you m-makes me happier…”
He squeezed your hand.
“As f-far as first dates go…?” You finally looked at him and grimaced slightly. “Maybe n-not the best, but… I think I’d love to practice… I love the idea of seeing more of y-you…”
He released a held breath.
“Again and again…”
An attendant swept nearby and you moved closer.
It gave you a better look of how stuck your partner was. 
For whatever reason, you felt moving him was best and took him to the closest display. There were the plaques you once dreamed about and you positioned it so both of you were standing in front of one. “Our d-date’s not o-over either… U-unless…?” 
He surfaced with a swallow. “We have yet to begin! We’re far from over, not ever!”
You sent a bright smile at him. “Let’s do wh-whatever we want for… however… long we want! It’s our t-time!”
He liquefied before he gave an eager nod. “As endless as the universe…”
“Like the first movie…?”
“The only movie.” He jeered. 
“We’re… like… a universe…?” You squirmed in your warmth.
He pondered you and then the display in front of him with a furrowed brow. 
“I think of you as the moon.” You told him. 
He turned right out of his thoughts. “The moon?”
“Yeah…” Instead of self-consciousness, a bashfulness flooded you. “You’re watchful… radiant..  and… you illuminate the dark… My dark…”
He bumped you as he got close. “I’m the moon to Mikey’s sun?”
“Maybe at first…” You resisted hiding your eyes. “You o-only cared about him in the beginning. It seemed fitting like that, that you were his r-reflection, but now you’re your own thing… The same, but different. Brighter… I… sort of… labeled all of you brothers… like that…?” You inched away.
His growing interest was steadfast.
“Y-you h-hid s-something earlier!” You forced out in desperation.
“Doesn’t sound like me…” He looked out the top left corner of his vision and right back to you.
It was a clear sign of a lie and gave you enough courage to press him. “You said something about old age and then you cut yourself-”
A hand came up and failed to cover his mounting blush.
“S-see!?”
“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed…” 
“I d-did!” 
He made a rusty sort of noise before his jaw creaked to speak. “I was going to say we’d get old and wrinkly… together…”
Your stomach flipped so hard that you stumbled a single step.
“Naming us the sun and moon or whatever else is one thing! I am getting ahead of myself and moving too fast! You can and should disregard that reveal! You pried it from me! Consider it a snap decision based on how frustratingly easy the ‘us’ you discussed is!  I’m-!”
You pressed yourself flush to his front and stared up at him with all your wanting.
“Copernican heliocentrism, Y/N! We’re in public! You can’t just… look at me like that!” His face was a darkened mess. 
“N-not in p-public then… got it.” You hid into his plastron.
“Not in…!? Have some decency!!!” He wrapped his arms around you as if to cover you up. “I’m trying to mitigate rushing our relations and here you are, shameless! What else am I supposed to think!?”
You peeked out to eye him. “Nothing?” 
“Nothing?!” He squawked. 
He also freed you and you gave him some breathing room by flitting away. 
Just before you exited his space completely, you caught his hand to pull him with you to the next display. “Let’s look at all this before you yell at the staff about the movie…” 
He came with an overloaded wobble. 
“Besides… what else is there to think about when it’s us..?”
(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #sunshinemoonshinefic for updates)
I return from my vacation with preemptive praises for my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83
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killedpink · 2 years ago
Text
[03:32]
thinking about han jisung late at night is dangerous for my wellbeing. oh well. this isn't even proofread lmao
🏷 contains: sub reader x dom jisung, chocking if u look closely, unestablished relationship, power imbalance, size kink, hair pulling, marking, mutual pining, oral sex, penetrative sex, lowkey hand kink idk if you can tell, jisung’s kinda mean but that's ok, slight praise, slight spit kink, a sprinkle of spanking
it wasn't uncommon to find yourself in a literal wrestling match with jisung — he was playful and volatile, and it was unlike him to back down from anything. it was, however, uncommon to find him taking it a bit too far.
he had you underneath him, his arms either side of you. after many, many experiences like this you had learned you didn't have long if you stayed in this position: you'd lose. allowing your body to take over for your mind, your knee jabbed him in the side and you sat up onto your legs once you saw him dart out of your way to avoid more impact. you didn't think you had hurt him terribly bad.
"you little — fucker!" he hissed, groaning in pain as his hands clutched his side. your brows knitted together in confusion. you've been harder with him before, surely that didn't hurt? "jisung? i'm so sorry, fuck, i didn't think i—" you were cut off from the air leaving your lungs from the impact. your heartbeat was frantic in your chest, the ringing ever so prominent in your ears.
"don't worry, you didn't hurt. you're just getting too cocky," jisung cooed, his voice a dizzying contradiction from his physical strength. the position he had you in was enough to make any sane person blush, let alone someone like you; who had been so desperate for that man that you dreamt of having him often. he was hovering over you, straddling your hips and his hair brushing against what little forehead was exposed, lips barely touching your ear, giving you goosebumps you prayed he wouldn't detect. your cheek was firmly pressed against the bedding, your head turned to the side and yet simultaneously buried into the sheets. and the cherry on top was where his hands were placed.
one, just above your head, bracing your skull against the headboard in case he slammed you a bit too passionately. and the second, on your neck, using just enough force to keep your head down and make you dizzy and compliant. you knew better than to try fighting when it was clearly game over. he wouldn't be as forgiving if you pushed his victory like that.
"holy shit. are you into this?" jisung's tone was raspy, one of the rare times where he was quieter. was he in disbelief? you didn't realise you were rubbing your thighs together until jisung separated them with his knee and you suddenly felt empty and impossibly desperate. "is it such a bad thing if i am?" you challenged, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. jisung tutted in response, "now who said anything like that, hm?" his lips brushed against your jaw as he spoke, leaving a gentle kiss to your skin as he affectionately squeezed you a little harder. it was hard to get a gasp through your throat but you managed it, screwing your eyes shut tight as your vision became fuzzy.
it was a miracle he let you go, leaning back onto his knees similarly to how you did earlier. but jisung was always like that: unreadable. even if you knew essentially everything there was to know about him and his habits, he’d still surprise you by acting completely different. he always kept you guessing and it was addicting. jisung was the only man to leave you so.. mindless. his honeyed brown eyes raked over your figure, drinking in the state he left you in happily.
his fingertips brushed against your skin, dancing along the wells of your collarbones, against the blushing marks of your neck, fingering the distressed collar of your t-shirt that sagged on your body (likely from where he pulled you by the scruff of your neck earlier), paying special attention to your wetted, kissable lips. the pad of his thumb stroked your lips, and without even thinking about it, you found your lips parting and your tongue brushing against his finger. he was so soft, it was infuriating.
jisung hummed in satisfaction, urging you to take him all in, the rest of his fingers cupping the underside of your chin. he watched you intently, through his dark gaze and through his blown-out pupils. you found your own hands grabbing onto the shirt that clung to his delectable figure. he always did look good in black.
you whined in protest when he pulled himself from your warm mouth. rolling his eyes, he held your arm gently in place, grounding you to the current moment. his thumb still rested atop your tongue, slowly retreating it back into his lap. you felt him kiss your wet tongue, and you also felt him deposit a morsel of spit onto your mouth. you moaned, hips chasing any friction it could craft in desperation. "swallow it," he encouraged, using the back of his fingers to affectionately brush the swell of your cheek, cooing and kissing you once he saw your throat bob to consume his spit. you peered up at him with a half-lidded gaze, “do you want me?” jisung asked, the vibrations in his chest from his purring voice made you so, so giddy. you nodded before even fully processing what he was asking of you, but once you grasped it you couldn’t shut up. “yes, jisung. i want — no, i need you — so fucking bad. i have for so long. please, please let me have you. take me, jisung. please, i can’t take it anymore,” your pleading eyes told him all he needed to hear. “sh, i’ve got you. let me take care of you, okay?” jisung cooed, stroking the top of your head and tucking the hair behind your ears. he held your cheeks in the palms of his hands, taking up your entire face as he did so, and pressed his lips to yours gingerly. he was so inviting, so intoxicating it was unreal.
he buried his head in the nape of your neck, nuzzling into you and pressing his cool nose into your burning skin. "you can do whatever you want to me, jisung." you mumbled into his hair, your nails raking up and down his exposed bicep as you felt him smirk against your skin. he planted kisses against your pulse, lingering on your skin like static. his kisses were unfathomably hot, and demanding, like a declaration of his neediness for you. his fingers creeped down your body and landed at your waist, thumbing the waistband of your shorts that clung to your figure. jisung's lips connected to yours once more, his tongue swiping at your mouth teasingly. "lift your hips for me, angel, yeah just like that," he mumbled against your lips in a low whisper. jisung practically ripped the clothes off of your lower half, flinging it behind his shoulder as if they were useless. in that moment neither of you could bring yourselves to give a fuck.
jisung groaned at the sight of your cunt, all puffy and sickly sweet with your arousal leaking out of you. his swollen lips parted in awe, eyes wide as he drank up the sight of you before him. you felt your heart rate speed up intensely, taking you a great deal of self-control not to beg for him to touch you, fuck you or do something sinful to you. as if he read your mind, jisung brushed his fingers against your slicked sex, easily slipping between your folds as if he's done it before. your hips quivered and your thighs twitched once jisung's fingers found purchase in massaging your clit, stroking the bud of your sex intently, observing every jerk and flutter your body made in reaction.
he manoeuvred himself to lay in between your legs, both hands holding the flesh of your ass and thighs while his thumbs pressed on both sides of your slit, spreading you wide for him to ogle at. using the flat of his tongue, jisung marked his path from your entrance to your clit, smearing your slick and his drool all over you. your hole clenched in response, your hips bucking into his face and your back arching off of the mattress. the room was spinning around you, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to contain yourself. jisung hummed in content, "you like that?" he muttered into your cunt, ever the fast learner. "yes, sungie. so good," you answered, albeit slurred and strained as your throat was preoccupied in containing your whines. your hands flung themselves into his hair, fingers tangling and clinging onto his hair like you were telling a story.
feeling han jisung chuckle from between your legs was truly a moment you find hard to forget about, the low vibrations resembling heaven as his laughter blessed your ears. "i'm sungie, now?" he mused, pressing a fleeting kiss to your dripping sex. "do you — ah fuck — want me to call you something else?" you proposed, hissing in agonising pleasure as jisung, like the menace he was, continued his assault on your slit. he shook his head back and forth, coincidentally with his lips wrapped around your clit and his cheeks hollowed out as he sucked on the sensitive, needy bud. he broke apart with a satisfying 'pop', "no! sungie is perfect. so, so perfect." he answered, between desperate gasps for air, with a tooth-rotting smile on his face, his cheeks bunching up and his pearly white bunny teeth poking through. they hollowed once more for a brief moment, before his lips parted and you saw the spit slowly drip from his tongue directly onto your clit, hitting it's mark perfectly, feeling it slowly trail down your sex. oh, how he melted you.
with no reason left to chat, jisung got back to work on your sex, slurping up your slick and kneading his mouth all around your cunt. momentarily he'd glance up to gauge your reaction when he did something new, to see how you liked it, and of course, you couldn't help but look back at him, taking the sight below you in. the bottom half of his face obscured, his dark hair falling over his forehead and ruffled from your activities, and most of all, the wild things you could barely make sense of laying hungrily in the darkness of his eyes. he made your entire body, mind and soul crave only his touch; his voice and his scent.
you maintained the grip onto his hair, pressing your palms into him so he'd be urged to look away from his handiwork and onto you. "is everything alright?" he cooed, eyes never leaving yours. although, your gaze was all over him, taking in the sight of the wetness that coated his lips generously, as well as his chin, and you paid special attention to the way his chest heaved up and down, greedily drinking air into his lungs. his hair was disheveled, messy tufts of blackish hair stuck up everywhere and almost completely obscured his vision, leaving two eyes to catch the light through his hair ominously. he could never scare you, though. never in his wildest dreams would you fear him.
"jisung," you started, anxiety slowly seeping into you, "i.. want you." your cheeks were burning red, hot against the rest of your face. "you have me." he seemed puzzled, almost. was he that humble? frustration quickly replaced anxiety, "no — i want you.." emphasising the word 'want' seemed to do the trick, as jisung realised you were asking for him to fuck you, more or less. his eyes widened. "oh! are.. are you sure?" he asked, voice soft and tender. you nodded, rolling your eyes, "han jisung, please fuck me." you uttered.
"fuck, that was hot. y'don't have to ask me that twice." he teased, holding your gaze for a brief moment before looking down at his jeans, allowing you to help him unbuckle his belt, even if all you did was tug on the loops desperately. you palmed his clothed erection as soon as you saw it, your hands flinging to him greedily; and you couldn't hold enough of him in them. you always clawed for more, your hands always wandered around in search of him. jisung discarded of his jeans swiftly, allowing them to pool on the floor somewhere in which neither of you cared about. as he leaned back you leaned forward, following him like a magnet. your hands rested atop his thighs, "can i?" you looked him in the eyes and lead your gaze to his clothed cock, sitting heavy in his boxers. jisung smirked in turn, "try me." he shrugged nonchalantly, with an amused look on his face that you wanted to wipe off so, so desperately.
holding his waistband in one hand, you tugged it up to pull the cloth flush against him, your eyes making out a darker patch on the material where the precum must have stained it. you parted your lips and let your tongue come out, barely covering your lower lip, and rolled it along where you assumed his cock head would be. jisung's head lolled back onto his shoulders, his thighs quivering and his ab muscles contracting while he let out such a melodic groan that you wished your mouth was on his so you could devour his pretty noises.
at first, it was unpleasant on your tongue, but the wetter the spot grew, the more of jisung you could taste and the stickier the material became. he started to buck his hips into your mouth, but when you recoiled and let him chase you, he had enough of your games. tipping his weight forward wasn't hard, and neither was trapping you in his arms. "what are you doing?" your tone was curious, slow and experimental. "what i want." jisung hissed in reply, turning you around so your back was facing his chest. "ass up, beautiful," he commanded, so casually it genuinely bewildered you. he urged you to obey with a few teasing raps to the flesh of your ass, fingers snaking under your pelvis in order to begin lifting you up. it didn't take you long to follow up on his request, arching your back and readjusting your knees and thighs. the palm of jisung's hand rounded out on the globe of your ass, stroking you affectionately, "attagirl." he rasped, letting the praise roll off of his tongue so deliciously your cunt involuntarily clenched, your stomach quivering in unison.
nothing could have ever prepared you for the first, initial feeling of han jisung's hard, thick cock merely pressing against your wet cunt. it was electrifying and literally sparked chills up your spine. you buried your head into the pillows sitting below you, keening into his touch like a starved whore. his hands grasped onto the start of your hips, just before where they start to swell, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin to calm you. spoiler: it didn’t do much, instead only riling you up further. you felt his head softly sawing up and down your slit, often catching on your clit, causing him to press his hips into your ass just to keep rubbing your clit in the way that got you to whine so carelessly for him.
when he finally pushed his tip into your entrance you saw stars. you wiggled your hips to entice him to fuck further into you, now suddenly, and painfully aware of every inch of your sex that has yet to be claimed by jisung. it made you feel deliriously aroused when you felt jisung slowly slide into your dripping hole, to the point you felt dizzy. meanwhile, jisung watched your cunt swallow every inch of his cock that he fed you, watching himself disappear inside of you made his heart — and cock — swell; he had actually groaned at the sight, let alone the feeling. "you're taking me so well," he muttered, with a dopey, sex-crazed grin on his gorgeous face.
it was a miracle jisung composed himself, finding a rhythm that pleased both of you proved to be so easy, the both of you simply happy to finally have the gumption to fuck, after a handful of years going back and forth with flirting and the odd passionate kiss that was too scary to bring up again, instead finding it easier to only think of it when you were both lonely late at night.
feeling jisung split you open was an entirely different feeling, his head leaking precum and sliding into you with ease, the girth of his shaft knocking the air out of you and the filthy words falling from his filthier mouth made you helplessly mindless. his thrusts were spirited and energetic, always managing to sting each time his hips and pelvis connected with your skin, and with the way he was bullying his cock into you it was bound to leave you bruised and giddy after. he was so big, not just his cock, but all over, from his biceps to his hands to his thighs — he was huge. one hand found its own way into your hair, petting you and stroking the wisps out of your face, all the while he muttered how well you were doing for him, and how heavenly your insides felt. your own hips met his, with each thrust jisung grew meaner, hornier and sharper. with the hand in your hair he grabbed a fistful, fingers harsh and tight against your soft hair, skilfully using it to drag your head up into the air, until his wrist bumped against your back, making you face the ceiling.
it stung, it stung so bad your body clenched around jisung so tight his hips stuttered into you briefly. he leaned over you until his nose brushed against the curve of your neck and his lips the juncture where your neck met your shoulder and bit down rather harshly, tearing a full-bodied moan from deep within you. your chest heaved for air and with this new position, jisung repeatedly slammed into the spongey bit that lay buried inside of you with ease. he undid you so easily, whispering praises into your bruised skin and gingerly kissing your neck as if he wasn't colliding his cock into you with as much force as he could muster in his position, his grip on you unwavering.
jisung left you helplessly at his mercy, tormented by his brutal, hungry pace and intoxicated by his sweet, tender cruelty. he watched as you leaned into him and the way he caged you into him, and he felt the way your heart leaped at his touch, not unlike a hummingbird's delicate wings in the stone cold winter. he watched as he unravelled you, each whimper and moan that left your lips grew louder, and needier. each cry of his name held the same cadence, reminding him of a hymn written solely with his name. jisung took note of the way your erect nipples poked through your shirt, leaving small peaks in your silhouette. he watched the way your brows furrowed and your eyes fluttered closed, and he certainly watched you take your bottom lip between your teeth as a way to muffle yourself.
he also felt the way his own orgasm approached, as if time was slowing down just for the two of you. his cock head felt so sore, so tender and heavy, mirroring the way the rest of his body felt. his body had a shimmer of sweat to his tanned skin, and his mind felt so fuzzy, filled only with thoughts about how good you let him fuck you, how perfect you sound and felt, how mesmerising you moved and rocked into him. jisung pressed himself as far into you as possible, pressing his chest flush against your back, or what parts of it that wasn't arched, the stickiness of your sweat sheened bodies sticking your skin together briefly, although the heat of his body lingered around you for a while longer. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his own lip as his throat let out a blissful cry, his heavy balls twitching as he emptied out inside of your waiting hole, spilling your own cum out of your puffy cunt and leaving a white ring of your mixed orgasms around jisung's cock in exchange.
your mouth opened in a silent scream, jaw going slack as your body quivered below jisung, a burning sensation spreading throughout you as if fireworks were let off in your veins. you clenched and fluttered around him, your hips pushing your sex onto his. you surrendered yourself entirely to jisung and the magnificent way he fucked you, crying out his name as if you were praying to a god in your most desperate hour of need, birthing an entire new meaning to his name as a thank you to him. his heart glowed with pride as you took the better half of three minutes to come down from your orgasmic, mindless state.
jisung settled beside you, using up the time you took for his own come-down, watching over you to ensure you were safe and satisfied. once he felt you shift closer to him he grinned proudly, his hand wrapping around the clammy skin of your back. "fuck, we need to do that again."
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