#the look on his face when he makes everyone else laugh!!!! too cute

[rxzilvia]

hiii, can you right something like jealous Niki??

i love how you write btw🤍

Thank you for the compliment so muchhh, and ofc I can 🫶🫶

Mine to keep

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none

Riki was lounging on the bed, cross-legged, watching you in the mirror as you twirled in the skirt he had picked out for you. It was cute, short, and fit you perfectly, making his stomach flutter in a way he didn't quite expect. The way it hugged your hips had his focus entirely on you

You turned toward him, catching his gaze “How do I look?” you asked, a teasing smile playing on your lips

Riki leaned back, his gaze scanning you carefully, almost too carefully “You look great,” he said, though there was a hint of something in his voice “I’m just trying to decide if I like it on you… or if I should be worried about other people seeing you in it”

You raised an eyebrow and stepped closer “Worried? Are you jealous already?”

Riki smirked but didn’t say anything at first. His hand tugged lightly at the hem of your skirt as if trying to pull it down just a little “Maybe I just don’t like how everyone’s gonna look at you when you walk out there”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your hand resting on your hip “I’m sure you’ll survive. Besides, it’s just a skirt, Riki”

Riki’s eyes softened for a second, then he raised an eyebrow “Yeah, but it’s your skirt,” he muttered, more to himself than to you

You blinked at him, still grinning “I didn’t think you cared that much.”

His expression softened again, though there was still a hint of something on the edge of his smile “I care more than you know,” he said quietly

Before you could respond, a knock at the door interrupted you. Riki gave a soft sigh, and you shot him a look “Seriously?”

But you didn't have time to question him because the door opened, and in came Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Heeseung. They all froze for a moment when they saw you, eyes flicking to the skirt before quickly shifting back up to your face

“Woah, Y/N, you look stunning!” Sunghoon exclaimed, his smile wide

Sunoo, always the flirt, added, “Yeah, you should wear stuff like this more often.”

Riki didn’t miss the way their eyes lingered a little too long on you. His hand tightened on the edge of the bed, his gaze narrowing just slightly as they continued complimenting you. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you could feel the subtle shift in the air

“Thanks,” you said, trying to keep it casual, though you caught Riki’s mood shift. He wasn’t saying anything, but the tension in his shoulders was obvious. He gave a small smile, but you could tell it was forced

Heeseung chuckled, “Riki, your girlfriend’s definitely turning heads, huh?”

You smiled awkwardly, but before anyone else could say anything else, Riki’s hand shot out to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The move was smooth, but his grip was tight

“Y/N, can we talk for a second?” he said quietly. You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his mood "Uh, sure?"

Without waiting for a response, Riki guided you out of the living room, his hand never leaving your waist. As soon as the door to the bedroom closed behind you, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding

“Riki, what’s wrong?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you sat on the bed

He stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair “It’s just... the way they were looking at you. It felt... I don’t know, like they weren’t just complimenting you. Like they were really looking”

You could see his frustration building, and though you understood his reaction, you reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm “Riki, they were just being nice. You’re overthinking this.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered, but his voice still had an edge to it. “I just... don’t like seeing them look at you like that. Especially when you look this good”

You sighed softly, standing up to stand in front of him “I get it, you’re protective. But I’m not going anywhere”

Riki finally met your eyes, his expression softening “I just don’t want anyone thinking they can have you. It’s not about trusting you. It’s just... I don’t want them thinking they have a chance”

You chuckled softly, stepping closer “You’re the only one I want, Riki”

He gave you a small, relieved smile, though his hands still rested on your waist like he wasn’t quite ready to let go “Good.. i love you..”

You smiled, planting a gentle kiss to his lips before snuggling in his lap "I love you too.."

[weewoodiaz]

kisscam

(buddie) (post 8x06) 960 words ao3 here fully inspired by this post by @clytemnestraaa!

Buck is just sitting back down with two fresh beers in his hands when the jumbotron changes from an ad for the newest Hildy home security to a set of cartoony pursed lips. 

"Pucker up!" blares an old-timey voice from the speakers as the cameras start to pan around the arena. 

Buck passes Eddie one of the beers (a truly gross Double IPA) and grins up at the screen, which is currently displaying an elderly couple hamming up a peck and beaming at each other as the crowd awwwws. He's glad to get to put the tickets to use, and he feels absolutely no way at all about the fact that he ended up bringing Eddie, just like Tommy said he would. Realistically, who else would it have been? At least Eddie likes basketball— he's been on the edge of his seat the whole game, whooping loudly and jeering at the refs along with everyone else. Buck could honestly take it or leave it, but Eddie's having fun, flushed and happy in a way that makes Buck's stomach hurt. 

The crowd around them starts to buzz, and Buck realizes that the kisscam has made it to their section. The people sitting two rows below them are shaking their heads animatedly on camera, and he's close enough to hear the dismayed "That's my brother" from one of them.

The cameraman pans up to the next row and catches a man and woman on the end. The crowd cheers louder after the first miss, but this pair are waving it off too, the woman covering her face with her hands as she cries,

"No! He's my dad!" as he ruffles her hair good-naturedly. Buck snorts— the man is visibly 30 years older than her. The camera is still trained on them as the crowd gets even louder, everyone tuned into the Jumbotron and pointing when they find the row in the stands. Buck can see the cameraman now, his head sticking up to scan the crowd properly to try and get at least one kiss in before the next quarter starts. The screen changes as the camera pans up again, and this time it's in their row— they're not centered in it, but they're visible on the left side. Buck laughs as everyone in the row does a double take, looking at the person next to them as the chants to

"Kiss! Kiss!" get louder and louder, thrumming through the floor and Buck's chest as people cheer and stomp their feet. 

The woman on his left makes eye contact with him and grins sheepishly, color already high in her cheeks as he shrugs and laughs. There's a brief pang, but hey, to get over you gotta get under, right, and she's cute enough. It doesn't quite convince him. He turns to Eddie, ready to make some joke about giving the people what they want, to find him already looking at him, grinning widely, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling. His stomach bottoms out even before Eddie throws his hands out wide and smacks them onto Buck's face seconds before his lips follow.

Buck's breath stutters. Distantly, the crowd roars. Distantly, the people around them are clapping, laughing, jeering good-naturedly. Distantly, Eddie's lips are pressed to his for a moment— soft, a little chapped. He tastes like the beer Buck just handed him. Buck's entire face is on fire. His hands are slack in his lap, and he doesn't think he moves at all. 

With a disorienting brightness time speeds back up and Eddie is back in his seat again, jostling his shoulder as he pulls him into a one-sided hug. Buck registers the blank look on his face on the Jumbotron and tries to plaster a sunny grin to match Eddie's before the camera cuts out and the Lakers logo comes back on screen. He gets a well-meaning pat on the shoulder from the people around him, the woman smiling widely at him with some relief, tapping her beer to his, and Eddie's arm is still slung around his neck as he takes a long sip from his own, attention already back on the game. 

Buck's beer sits untouched through this quarter and the next. He thinks the Lakers win. Eddie lets go of him at some point, jumping to his feet to yell at the ref. His ears ring as his heart thumps a low steady beat, and he feels something tilt and shift. He doesn't move again until Eddie touches his shoulder, and he realizes he's standing over him, along with everyone else in their section, picking up jackets and getting ready to file out up the stairs. He smiles blithely and grabs the beer so he can dump it down a sink. He thinks Eddie's expression sticks for a second, something in his eyes not quite matching his easy grin, but he looks away before he can be sure. He's not sure what's on his own face, and he's not as good at hiding it. He nods along to Eddie's chatter about the game, adding in a throwaway comment here and there so he's not too obviously silent. 

They're halfway home, at least one of them sitting contentedly, when Buck glances over his shoulder to merge and sees Eddie's face illuminated by the yellow slant of a streetlight. In a moment he's categorized it— hair eyes lips— chapped— soft— and then he's in the right lane and staring holes through the exit sign to Eddie's house. Eddie leaves the door open behind him, and Buck is still sitting in the car. His lips are still tingling. He has time to register a distant fuck bouncing around in his mind before Eddie's head pokes out around the frame and he follows him inside, helplessly. Fuck.

[tryinginvaintobreathethefire]

AIN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU (OUTTAKE. THE PROMISE)

This appealingly goofy frat-rock track had little chance of making any Springsteen album-the fact that he actually mentions Iovine by name in the lyrics, apparently praising his fashion sense, makes that clear. Iovine says the nod was inspired by his habit of visiting Bloomingdale's, the upscale department store, before the day's sessions. "I'd go with a friend of mine and we'd look at the girls in the makeup section, you know," he says. "Bruce would say, 'Where ya been?' I got a bag in my hand the whole time, right? I said, 'I went to Bloomingdale's. He said, 'What's Bloomingdale's?' I said, 'It's a shop, Bruce, they got all this stuff. I bought this shirt today. And he just put it in his song."

--Brian Hiatt, Bruce Springsteen: The Stories Behind the Songs

[simonbrain]

i know it's been done many times before, but i just love gross weird creepy awkward simon and his cute harmless bird.

like she's so intrigued by him, so infatuated with this odd man. she giggles at his dark humour and crude jokes, a genuine smile on her face as her shoulders shake from laughing so hard while he's huffing out a sound of amusement of his own. meanwhile, everyone else has an uncomfortable look on their faces, giving them both judgemental stares.

he's the type to tug her close to him and kiss her nasty, uncaring if they're in a public setting. he sucks on her tongue and spits in her mouth, a big hand reaching down to squeeze her ass before disappearing up her skirt. he doesn't really care if others watch or not, and he grips her tight when she tries to escape, swallowing all her squeaky little noises with a satisfied hum.

there's no shame when it comes to him. he lets her know when he's going for a piss and asks if she wants to come, not bothering to close the door (he demands that she leaves it open when she goes too; it's only fair). he uses her hand to jerk himself off when she's busy or not in the mood, heavy groans rumbling from his chest because it feels so much better than rutting into his rough hand—not as lovely as her soft, pretty cunt though. he lets his tongue dip low to lap at her asshole and ignores her whiny protests, promising he'll make her feel good in a second, groaning to himself as she grinds against his face.

ughhh he's just so unusual. sometimes he stares at her too long for it to be considered cute, dark eyes burning into her very soul for so long that she has to remind him to blink. he corners her just to get a whiff of her perfume, heavy breathing down her neck like he's getting worked up just from smelling her.

when he comes home from deployment and tells her about the things that happened while he was away (lost one of my good knives in tha' prick), she's sitting pretty on his lap and chirping out her responses, urging him to tell her more. she says it's good for him to get it off his chest, but really she likes hearing his gruesome stories. it makes her heart flutter that he's so skilled and competent.

others have come up to her asking if she's okay and if she's aware of the weirdo following her, and she's like "yeah that's my man :)" she tries her best to drive them away before he starts sulking over yet another person interrupting their parallel play.

she just really loves how strange and off-putting he is.

[imaginedisish]

Modern Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! Here's something short and sweet. This is based on a request, so I hope the requester enjoys :) No song references here, but "Modern Love" by David Bowie seems appropriate. It's 80s, New Wave-y, and we're in an arcade in this fic, so it fits.

Summary: The team goes out to an arcade, and Logan is his usual grumpy self...but his soft spot for you is more clear than ever.

Warnings: Suggestive content (would totally write a second part with some true smut), tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, cursing, f!reader/afab!reader, grumpy!Logan, Jubilee is a cock block LOL, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,685 short and sweet indeed

“I do not want to be here,” Logan complains, rolling his eyes as the team strolls into the arcade. 

Jubilee skips inside, twirling with excitement. “Well, that’s just too bad, Logan!” She calls, running over to the arcade’s version of Dance Dance Revolution. Kurt is laughing, following at her heels. “Because everyone else is going to have a great time!” 

“Gambit’s winning big tonight,” Gambit says, taking Rogue’s hand in his. “Gambit’s winning chere a prize, he is.” Rogue blushes, letting Gambit pull her to one of the fake slot machines. 

Jean and Scott walk over to an older machine—Pac-Man or something similar, probably. Storm and Charles head towards the seating area near the snack bar in the back, leaving you and Logan to yourselves. Of course. You’re alone with Logan. The person you want but you know you can’t have. 

You’re friends—just friends. You’ve accepted that he’ll never see you as anything more, but it still hurts. 

“So…” You say, trailing off as Logan looks around the arcade. “Not your kind of place, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he says back, his eyes finding yours. You can’t help but smile at that stupid, grumpy look on his face. “You like this shit?” He asks, smiling back at you. 

You shrug your shoulders, noncommittal. “I think you’d have fun if you tried,” you say, nodding towards the crane machine, and walking over. You can hear Logan’s footsteps against the carpet, following you close behind.

You peer into the glass, looking at all the stuffed animals filling the machine. Your smile widens when you spot the cute little turtle in the back—green and brown, wide eyes, and extra plush and round. Logan leans against the machine, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “Which one are we going for?” He asks. We—you can’t help but replay the word in your head. There’s a “we” in this. You and Logan. 

You point to the turtle in the back row. “We’re going for that one,” you say, and his eyes find the green little thing. “Isn’t he cute?”

He shakes his head, grinning ear to ear, his grumpiness seemingly gone now. “Sure, princess, sure he is.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sound of the familiar pet name. You lean down to put a quarter in the machine, trying your best not to overthink the situation. The crane starts up, whirring to life, giving you three tries to win the stuffy. 

You maneuver the crane to the back row, just above the turtle. “Do you think that’s good?” You ask, looking towards Logan. But he isn’t looking at the machine; he’s looking at you, smirking. “What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes incredulously. 

“You’re cute when you concentrate,” Logan says, his smirk unwavering. You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he peers into the machine. He nods, his eyes finding yours again, changing the subject before you can respond to his comment. “Looks good to me.”

You swallow nervously, pressing the button on the top of the stick, sending the crane down to the stuffy. It grabs the turtle, holding it up. It looks like it’s going to make it, but it falls in the center of the glass box. You groan, annoyed as the crane moves back to position. You try again, bringing the crane to the center of the machine, just above the turtle, and dropping it again. The silver claws grip the plushy, but it’s a bad grab—the turtle slipping right out of its grasp. 

 “Fucking rigged,” you mutter, moving the crane over the turtle for the final time. “This is it,” you say, looking at Logan. He’s suddenly shifting closer to you, standing behind you and pressing his front to your back. His arms rest on either side of the crane machine’s controls, caging you in. 

“Much better view from here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. You’re distracted by how close he is. You can smell him—tobacco and pine and musk. “Let’s see if it works, princess.” This is too much. Far more than you can possibly handle. 

You take a deep breath, your eyes surveying the crane’s distance from the turtle carefully, and you press the button. The crane drops, grabbing the stuffy, and picking it up successfully. “Yes!” You say, looking back at Logan. His face is inches from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your lips. Your noses are so close, brushing together softly. He leans in, lips parted. 

“Game over!” A robotic, automated voice rings out, the crane whirling back into position. It snaps you back to reality, and you look inside the machine. There, off to the side just next to the machine’s drop box, is the turtle. 

“Shit,” you mumble, shoulders slumping with disappointment. You know it’s just a game, and you are an adult after all, but you can’t help the frown that forms across your face. “I really wanted him. I was gonna name him Bernie.”

Logan chuckles. “Bernie?” he asks, and you nod. He’s centimeters away from you again, leaning in. “Don’t sweat the loss, princess. You’re cuter than that little thing is anyw—"

“Look what Kurt and I got with our tickets!” Jubilee is suddenly in front of you, a stuffed, sparkly blue dinosaur in her hand. She’s tugging you away from Logan and across the arcade before you can protest. “You gotta dance with me!” You look back at Logan, who’s standing alone in front of the crane machine, arms tucked against his chest. 

Have fun, he mouths. And good luck. He winks at you as Jubilee whisks you off to Dance Dance Revolution. You let her pick the song, and you struggle through the round, your feet tapping to the beat. You and Jubilee are a laughing mess. You know you look absolutely ridiculous, but it’s fun. 

And yet, your mind still wanders to Logan. You think about how close he was to you, the way his lips practically brushed against yours—the ghost of a kiss. You think about the way he caged you in, pressed against your back. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize how badly you’re fumbling all the moves; you don’t hear Jubilee calling your name. 

“Hey!” She shouts, finally bringing you back to reality. The round is over; you missed the entire second half of the dance. “Where’d you go just there?” She asks, concern hidden within her smile.  

You look over to the crane machine, expecting to see Logan, but he’s gone. In fact, you can’t find him anywhere. “Sorry Jubes, but I gotta go see about something,” you say, stepping off the platform. 

Your eyes search the arcade. Gambit and Rogue are at the ticket redemption counter, picking out a big stuffed bear. Kurt is fooling around on one of those motorcycle racing games. Storm and Charles are—uncharacteristically—sharing a soft pretzel, while Jean and Scott share a milkshake. Everyone is here and accounted for except Logan. 

That is, until you notice the puff of smoke in the corner of the glass door at the front of the arcade. You smirk, walking towards the entrance and pushing the door open. 

Logan leans against the brick wall of the building, cigar in his mouth. His head turns towards you, and he immediately takes the cigar out, dropping it to the ground and extinguishing it with the heel of his boot. 

“Hi,” you whisper, standing next to him. 

He looks down at you, smiling widely. “Hi.” He’s leaning in again—so close—and a shiver runs up your spine. “Cold?” He asks, shrugging out of his leather jacket before you have a chance to answer. He helps you into the jacket one arm at a time, his eyes drinking you in once it’s on, trailing up and down your body. “Looks good on you,” he hums. “Way better than it does on me.”

You shake your head, letting your shoulder brush against his. You look over at him and suddenly notice something green and round in his hand. “What’s that?” You ask. But you already know. You recognize the little brown spots and the wide eyes. 

Logan smirks, lifting the turtle up. “Couldn’t let you go home without him,” he says, holding it out towards you. 

“No way!” You shout, ignoring the turtle and throwing your arms around Logan’s neck. It’s instinctive, natural. He tugs you in closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Thank you so much,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe you ended up playing a game at an arcade.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers against your temple. The sudden vulnerability of his words makes your heart tighten in your chest. You stay like that for a while, his lips ghosting your forehead, your chests pressed together. You finally lift your head, looking up at Logan. 

“Lo?” You whisper, and his gaze meets yours, flitting between your eyes and your lips. He drops the plushy onto the bench next to him and walks you back into the brick wall, caging you in, hands on either side of your waist. 

He leans in. “Yeah, pretty girl?” He brings one hand to your hip, gripping gently. “What do you need?”

“Y-you,” you stutter. “I need y—"

His lips swallow your words, fitting against yours like a puzzle piece. The kiss is slow, languid, but you can feel his need in the way he moves against you, hands slipping underneath the borrowed jacket and your shirt to explore your skin. His fingertips drag along your back, relaxing you into his touch. 

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Logan mumbles against your lips. 

Your heart flutters in your chest. “But what about the others?” You ask, nodding to the arcade.

Logan smirks, stealing another kiss. “All the more reason to get back to the mansion before they do.”

“But how are we going to—”

He grips your waist, tugging you towards the parking lot. “I took my bike, pretty girl.”

Oh?

Oh. 

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part Two]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one] [part three]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

[part one] [part three]

[moonsaver]

AE!Sunday getting nightmares while everyone's asleep and unable to sleep again because of them

AE!Sunday who checks if you're awake by sending you a small text, getting a silly response back and making him quietly chuckle.

AE!Sunday who quietly tiptoes to your room when you invite him in after he tells you he can't sleep – neither can you and what better joy is the one that's shared joy?

AE!Sunday who learns how to play the numerous videogames you and stelle do on your phones, makes an account for himself and lets you do most of the work to kill the op bosses. He tries to use his weird mind control powers on the videogames when it doesn't listen and it backfires because now he's dizzy and the game restarts all over. You laugh at him and he sends you a warning glare before zoning out in his dizziness again.

AE!Sunday who you practically have a sleepover with,, you make horrendous tea for the both of you, he tells you his wing-care routine, both of you braid each other's hair, you play around and tease some of the angels that follow him. They stick cute little stickers all over him; nevermind the contrast of the hello kitties all around the eye in the center of his outfit.

AE!Sunday who you do skincare with. You choose to do the horrendous animal face masks with him and take photos. Turns out he's wearing one upside down. But it doesn't matter now because you have blackmail material... nevermind the fact he has the same photos, too.

AE!Sunday who tells you childhood stories of him and Robin – but the solemn mood is shaken out of him when he looks up to see the angels sprawled over you while you listen attentively, with that dumb animal facemask still on, making him chuckle again.

AE!Sunday who confides in someone else for the first time. He tells you his nightmares and his fears and you tell him your insecurities. You both have a heart to heart, and eventually end up laying down on the floor with scattered pillows and puzzle pieces about you when the words start flowing out of your mouths like you two were old friends.

AE!Sunday who lets you brush his wings while he talks because it calms him down. Its a soothing feeling brushing through them, too.

AE!Sunday who falls asleep then and there; maybe even you too. But before your heavy eyelids close, you peek out to see his sleeping face and the various angels comforting him even in his sleep.

AE crew who find you two sleeping on your room's floor in a mess, because you two slept in and missed breakfast. March is a bit salty, but takes a photo anyway.

[ruewrote]

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: teasing, no use of y/n, touching GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: NIGHTS LIKE THIS by the kid LAROI WORD COUNT: 1k NOTE: ghostface!josh coming soon . . .

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

josh always had to be touching you. it was something you noticed early on in your friendship, but it had grown more noticeable over time. a casual brush of his fingers across your waist when he walked by, how his hand would find yours when no one was looking. at first, you didn’t think much of it, it was just josh, always needing someone close. 

but now? now it felt like more.

tonight, the group had gathered in the theater room of the washington lodge for what was supposed to be a relaxing evening after a long day of hiking. the lights were dim and you were sprawled out on the large sectional with everyone, blankets thrown over legs, as a movie played on the tv. josh, predictably, had taken his usual place next to you, his thigh pressed against yours under the blanket, his hand resting on your knee like always.

it wasn’t like he was doing anything that anyone else would notice, it was subtle, almost innocent. but you felt it. the warmth of his hand on your leg sent tingles up your spine and it was almost impossible to ignore the way your heart beat just a little faster when he touched you.

"you two are practically glued together," emily teased from across the couch, smirking as she sipped her drink. "it’s cute. you can’t stand to be apart for five seconds?"

josh, unfazed as ever, grinned. “what can i say? i’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

you rolled your eyes, chuckling softly, but the way his fingers squeezed your knee for just a second sent a jolt through you. he wasn’t letting go, not even when everyone else joined in on the teasing.

ashley leaned over the back of the couch, an exaggerated look of pity on her face. "i mean, it’s cute and all, but how do you breathe? he’s always touching you.”

josh shrugged, still looking completely comfortable. “she doesn’t seem to mind.” his voice was playful, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it.

you glanced over at him, your pulse quickening. no, you didn’t mind. in fact, you had grown to expect it, maybe even craved it. his presence, his touch. it had a calming effect on you, even if it was doing the opposite to your emotions now. your friends had been teasing about this for weeks and you weren’t sure how to explain the connection without sounding ridiculous.

"she knows that i'm just that good at making sure she’s comfortable," josh said with a quick grin. "it’s kinda my thing."

emily laughed. “at this point, i wouldn’t be surprised if you two woke up spooning!”

you felt the blush rising to your cheeks as you shoved josh lightly, but his hand slid down your leg, brushing the inside of your thigh, lingering just a second too long before pulling away. you froze, the sensation sending a wave of warmth through you. he shot you a quick look, eyes twinkling with amusement, but there was something else behind them.

before you could respond, chris called out from the other side of the couch. “what? it’s just a little friendly affection, right?” he winked, clearly teasing.

“yep,” you agreed quickly, your voice coming out more breathless than intended. “totally. just friends.”

josh gave a low hum, leaning back and stretching his arm out along the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. “if you say so,” he murmured softly, only for you to hear. the weight of his touch felt heavier now, his fingers grazing your skin.

as the movie droned on, your focus drifted away from the screen. your mind was entirely on josh, the way his body was so close to yours, the way his touch lingered. you found yourself leaning into him more without realizing it, like you were drawn to him just as much as he was to you.

the others had mostly gone back to watching the movie, though there were still occasional glances your way, always with that teasing edge but josh didn’t seem to care. his thumb traced slow circles on your shoulder now, his hand occasionally slipping down to brush your arm. 

you turned your head slightly, looking up at him. he wasn’t even looking at the movie anymore. his focus was entirely on you.

“josh?” you whispered, keeping your voice low enough that the others wouldn’t hear.

“hmm?” his eyes flicked down to meet yours, his expression soft but with that familiar mischievous glint.

you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to say what was on your mind. “why do you always…?” you trailed off, not sure how to phrase it without sounding too obvious.

he smiled, a knowing look crossing his face. “always what?”

“always… touch me,” you finished quietly, your pulse quickening at the vulnerability in your own words.

josh’s smile didn’t fade, but his gaze grew a little more serious. he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper as his hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, cupping it gently. “it’s… comforting. you’re comforting.”

you stared at him, heart racing as the weight of his words sank in. there was more to it, you could feel it, more than just the comfort of touch. there was something between you that had always been there, quietly lingering beneath the surface.

“you don’t mind, do you?” his thumb brushed against your cheek now, the gentle motion sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the blankets.

you swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. “no,” you whispered. “i don’t mind.”

josh’s gaze flickered down to your lips for a second before returning to your eyes. there was a moment of hesitation, but then he leaned in just a little closer. “good,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“because i don’t think i could stop even if i tried.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[muntitled]

Ready or not | Park Sunghoon

-' Pairings: Park Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

-' Summary: He volunteered to be seeker. That should've been your first warning. The hungry look that had begun brimming in his eyes should've been the second.

-' Warnings: Language, Horror Elements, Established Relationship, Very Slight Fluff, Hide and Seek, Smut +18 mdni, Primal Kink, Fear Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight dd/lg, Praise Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Spit, Cum play, Choking, Rough Sex, CNC, Hard Dom!Hoon, Desperate Sex, Public Sex, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Unprotected Sex

A/n: My contribution to spooky season

“I don't wanna play anymore,” You don't say it too loudly, lest you give yourself and your hiding spot away.

“I really, really don't wanna play anymore, Hoonie-”

A chuckle cracks through the dark night air.

"Hoonie," you hear his voice snicker from in between the shadows. "Cute." It's far. Not anywhere in your immediate vicinity. Where you are, it's just tall oak trees and stars.

A squirrel decides at that moment to scuttle over your sneakers and cause a very audible gasp to rip itself out of your throat. Through the crooked trees you hear a laugh. His laugh.

"Too easy," his voice reaches your ears.

Sunghoon isn't here. He hasn't found you yet. That brings you the first sliver of comfort that you cling to with everything in you. It allows you to trek further uphill. The little lights they've paved along the hiking trail serves as your only navigator through the woods. You want nothing more than to be there, in the light, but even you knew that would be an insanely stupid move. You would illuminate yourself to him. He'd find you immediately. You had far too much pride for that.

'I don't wanna play anymore-'

Perhaps you were hoping by repeating the phrase over and over again, that Sunghoon would magically get the desire to end this wretched game, but even as you travelled up the rocky hill, away from the bench where Sunghoon had been counting dutifully, you knew it was an impossible ask.

He was the seeker and he was counting excitedly, with a smile on his face.

The duty of the seeker, as far as you know, had always been the least desired. Being tasked with the responsibility of finding everyone else and being ostracised from the rest of the group- made to be a monster they all hid from? It sounded horrible to the brain of any rational human being.

Your bones rattle with discomfort when you realise that your boyfriend didn't particularly fit into that category.

As you try to venture deeper into the woods, away from your Seeker's approaching footfalls, you think back to a time in the evening before you weren't so cracked with fear. Everything had been perfect then.

It seemed like the perfect conditions to take a romantic walk along the hiking trail with your boyfriend. The hiking trail leads into a deep and dense patch of wooded land behind Sunghoon's apartment. Tall trees surrounding you both. The path leading uphill, on a winding, uneven road. At that time, the sun had just begun sinking behind the trees, but you could make out Sunghoon's features from the little lamps that lined the pathway.

You had been walking hand-in-hand, feeling quite secure, feeling starkly not-scared.

Suppose it was your fault.

Sunghoon had asked if you were sure you wanted to take a walk with him in the dark and you swung your clasped hands between the two of you, bringing it to your lips as you said, "You say that like you're something to fear-"

As you walked, he had watched you with a bashful kind of smile that was only exclusive to Sunghoon- fangs shining in the moonlight as he pulled his jacket over your shoulders. He liked having you wear his clothes, especially in public.

A dismaring, cute kind of smile that drew you in initially.

"Plus," you stood on your tippy toes as you whispered into his ear, "I don't really mind being scared."

"Is that so?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow as you continued to observe the nature surrounding you both with an innocent, oblivious quality. He liked that. He liked how you always managed to see the world through a pink stained lense. A world of puppies, rainbows, faeries, princesses- all that shit.

It caused something horrible to stir inside him. Something that wanted to take the innocence he saw bursting forth from your eyes and crush it. He wanted you to see him. To perhaps look at him with that fear you spoke so highly of. "You like the feeling of being scared?"

"Eung!" You nodded, still watching the tips of the trees reaching towards the stars.

"Wow-" he had said, "Spoken like a true crazy person-" you shoved into his side, a very deep frown setting over your glossed lips. Your braids were let loose, easy access for Sunghoon to pull on one as he continued his teasing.

"Don't call me that-"

"It's okay- I like having a weirdo girlfriend-" you loosened your fingers, sulking and ready to turn your back on a cackling Sunghoon and head back from whence you came but he kept your hands locked in his.

"You really enjoy it?" He asked, stopping at a bench on the side of the trail, "being scared, I mean… Do you actually like it?'

"Uh-" you had begun feeling thoroughly exposed under his gaze. He watched you like you were something to be inspected. His sharp eyes peeled you apart. Sunghoon, towering over you didn't really help the feeling so you beckoned him to sit down. He did, with a heavy plop, his black shirt and black sweatpants billowing from the warm wind. He opened his legs, allowing you to slot yourself between them. Even sitting down, Sunghoon didn't need to look up at you. He was so large and all-encompassing. It made you feel so small.

"I mean doesn't everyone!?" You evaded Sunghoon's gaze but he kept his train on you.

“No,” he responds, suddenly very interested in this topic. You haven't been dating for long enough to disclose kinks yet. The farthest you've both done is establish safe words. Every facet of your relationship was gleaming under the veneers of unexplored territory.

He didn't think you liked being scared.

He didn't think he'd be happy to know this. He keeps his face stoic though, giving nothing away.

"That's why horror movies exist, right?"

A short breath came from Sunghoon's mouth as he finally broke eye contact, seating back against the bench, "That's why horror movies exist. I thought-" He turned his head to look at your hand before meeting your eyes again, his face as blank as a canvas.

"You thought what?" He asks, willing you to carry on talking. Sunghoon has tunnel vision. Whenever you spoke, the only thing he was physically and cognitively able to focus on is you.

"I thought horror movies were like-” you kick a dead leaf on the ground “-Like edgier comfort shows. Like, Gilmore Girls or something-" That sentence completely knocked him out.

"You just compared horror movies to Gilmore Girls-"

Sunghoon wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts "Interesting, well- we should play a game to test this theory,"

Your eyebrows crinkled. "What kinda game?"

"Relax-" Sunghoon said as he waved a hand before his face. "No one would get hurt, not unless you wanted to-" there were a great many things Sunghoon said that completely threw you for a loop. This was one such statement.

You were used to it by now. The backhanded airy, fairy comments Sunghoon made under his breath.

You wouldn't be surprised if he had whole other conversations with just himself. Like he was in constant conversation with a voice in his own head

The sun had completely set and a jogger passed by the two of you in that moment, the final jogger you would see tonight.

"Hide and seek. You hide." he continued as if unaware that he was giving you a very visceral sense of whiplash. "Don't stray too far and keep your eye on the trail so you don't get lost, okay?"

"What-"

"I wanna make it 30 seconds, but I'll be nice and make it 60-"

"Wait Sunghoon, I'm wearing a dress-"

"You'll manage." He pushes you away slightly.

"Hoon-"

A chuckle as he says, "Baby, you better start hiding. Don't you know how to play-"

"Sunghoon, I don't wanna play,"

"One."

You were backing away as you stared at him and he stared at you. Sunghoon leant forward, planting his elbows on his knees as his hands swung between his open legs. "Two."

“ i don't wanna-"

"Three-"

A rock jabs into your calf as you stumble up the incline. Sunghoon nods. "That's it-" and before he closes his eyes, he shoots you one last charming smile. Only this time it's veneered with something much darker, something that has you turning and lunging uphill.

"Run," he said.

He volunteered to be a seeker. That should've been your one and only warning. The hungry look that had begun brimming in his eyes should've been the second warning.

Your thigh begins to ache as Sunghoon concludes his counting with an airy and bright, "Ready or not!" You can hear him snickering to himself, "You know the rest," before the sound of his heavy footfalls crunches over fallen leaves.

It was a warm and humid autumn night.

Your heart was thumping to the beat of your heavy footsteps beating down on the short grass. There was an eerie sense of solidity that sunk over the park during late nights like these, and the moon is your only spectator.

What ought to have been a harmless game of hide and seek quickly turned into a slightly disturbing rendition of the thing. As soon as you ran out into the woods, away from where Sunghoon was counting, a sense of dread had quickly began pooling in the bottom of your stomach especially when you looked around and realised you were quite literally standing in the middle of a hiking trail, at night with you boyfriend who is far too eager to play this game.

"I'm going to get you too soon," you can hear his voice, but you can't see anything beyond the crooked silhouette of tree branches. The woods seem to whisper through to your paranoia. Sunghoon sounds like he's everywhere, like he couldn't come from one single direction.

“H-Hoonie- wait-"

The wind picks up, blowing against your exposed knees. You shuffle against the closest treet, clinging towards it like it was the only pillar of safety you could confide in.

"You're making this too easy, baby-"

You crouch into a ball close to the floor, suddenly feeling wholly and completely alone with nothing but the darkness for company. The darkness and whatever hid inside it. A sinking feeling makes the pits of your stomach grow with vehement warmth as you nuzzles your nose Into Sunghoon's jacket

You had arrived.

Fear was clutching so terribly at your throat you felt you might suffocate.

You were a little kid again, terrified of the dark and everything that was inside it. Only now, you had a boyfriend and somehow, he was hiding in the dark too.

“Shit-” you place a hand on your heart, feeling it racing to ungodly heights. This was not only fear but panic. And bubbling just beneath that, was a strange sort of excitement that twinkled in the darkness.

You were in the dark for far too long. What if you forget your way home?

The panic was pulling at your insides, making them twist and turn and react to every sound in the dark, wondering when he'll find you, thinking he probably already did.

The truth is Sunghoon watched your shadow trek uphill from the moment he finished counting. He stalked behind you with his hands in his jacket pocket, keeping a safe enough distance away to give you confidence. He made sounds of watching your silhouette jump intentionally.

You weren't very good at hide and seek. You peered over your shoulder far too often.

At some point you looked directly at him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness but its like recognition didn't register and your fear was all that drove you further uphill.

He was watching from a distance as you squirm now. You had crouched down onto the uneven forest floor, pulling his varsity jacket around you like a cloak that might make you invisible. You were shaking like a leaf. And Sunghoon realizes, with grave finality that he's really fucking hard.

As he stalks closer and closer towards you, his sneakers break the backs of the autumn leaves. He's not sure what he's going to do when he catches you, he just knows he needs you, really badly.

“Shit, shit, shit” The panic in your voice becomes starkly clear, the closer Sunghoon walks towards you and the little tree you've made your hiding place.

You can hear him approaching because he allows you to. You shake and cover your ears with your trembling hands and Sunghoon's face is stoic and emotionless as he lunges towards you.

Your eyes open just in time to swerve out of the way until you're sliding across the forest floor. You try to make a break for it- for what, you're not exactly sure- but he pokes his tongue through his cheek, slightly impressed before he grabs at you again, this time succeeding.

He pulls at your ankle, before securing your shoulders in between his palms. you're wrestling to free yourself from his oppressive hold. You kick and writhe but he wraps his arms around your waist, dragging your frame up off the forest floor.

You're an absolute mess. the side of your sundress is caught underneath his arm, exposing your left thigh to the cool autumn air.

“found you, Dove-” his voice is hoarse as he presses his face to the back of your head. Without thinking, perhaps without using anything except his innate instincts, Sunghoon pushes your front against the tree- the tree that you had used to hide from him.

‘I win-” he whispers, as his other arm snakes across your chest, squeezing and pawing at your breast while you continue to writhe wildly for him to let you go.

“Green or red?” You shiver when his warm breath snakes against the back of your neck, your cheek colliding with tree bark. “Answer me.”

Against your better judgement, you mutter, “Green,” allaying his concern with the simple act of pushing your ass against his bulge. You realise you're not wanting to get away from him. You want him to think you want to get away from him.

“Take this off-” he spins you around as he furiously unbuttons his varisty jacket that had kept you safe and sound from the big bad cold. Your shoulders are exposed and immediately hounded by Sunghoon's lips as soon as he discards the jacket on the forest floor.

“F-Fuck, Hoonie-” you really like being scared. You liked it so much your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he sucks bruises into the crook of your neck. You are hurtling into subspace like you've never quite experienced before.

Everything feels brighter. More vivid. Like you can feel the inner workings of mother earth, even under your sneaker clad feet.

You delve your fingers into his hair and you keep him there.

“F-Fuck-” you don't hardly swear but Sunghoon is sinking his teeth into your flesh while his other hand delves down between your open legs.

Instead of immediately making contact with your soaked core, Sunghoon breaks apart to watch you writhe and squirm underneath him. Your dress is completely hiked up now and he can see your hips canting up into the air. “You're so desperate I bet you could cum just like this, huh?”

His words have you moaning into the night air as your hips buck senselessly, searching for any bit of friction. “You were such a scared little baby just a second ago, weren't you?” His words cause the first round of tears to slip down your face. A gust of wind picks up then and you worry you really might just cum untouched, but then Sunghoon spares you and presses his thumb against your clit and you come almost immediately.

Stars cloud your vision as Sunghoon rubs at your clit, all while muttering harsh and unwarranted curse words.

Your hips are still bucking, even when the orgasm passes. You're so overstimulated, by Sunghoon, by the environment, by all the sounds you're being bombarded with from every angle.

“You're such a little slut you know that?” He brings his hand up to your face, speaking slowly and making grave, grave eye contact as if he was telling you a very very serious facet about your personality.

“Such a fucking slut-”

You're trembling as you look back in his eyes nodding firmly along and shuddering when he gives you that toothy grin.

“Show me,” Sunghoon says, “Show me you're my slut-” without even thinking about it for a second more, your hand finds his other hand, the one that had been rubbing at your clit through your soaked panties.

You hold eye contact as you bring his finger to your mouth, letting your tongue roll out before you place his middle and index finger directly onto it.

He swallows thickly.

Sunghoon forces his fingers slowly along your tongue, with the guidance of your small, trembling hands. He makes frantic work of unbuckling his pants with his other hand.

“You're such a fucking slut for me, you know that?” You nod, and a pained expression falls on his face as his fingers press down on your tongue.

“Fuck, I need to cum in you-” before you're able to think, Sunghoon pulls his hand out and brings you towards him with a string grip on the back of your neck he spits directly onto your tongue and forces your lips shut again.

“I'm gonna cum so hard inside you, baby-”

Your head hurts when he pushes you back against the tree a little too rough. Everything he does right now is a little too rough. It's like he forgets himself when he's on the verge of cumming in his pants.

He doesn't ease you into it.

Only forces the blunt tip of his cock through your opening, expecting you to take it like the good little slut you claimed to be.

“Sung-hoon, its sore- wait-”

He clasps both your wrists in his hand, placing it abve your head as he attempts to fuck his cock into you, “Shh, It'll get better soon-” he's slurring his words, pushing his hips against yours to force his cock even deeper in.

“Sunghoon promises-” he cradles your head towards him, “Hoonie promises- he needs to cum, yeah? Hoonie just needs you to be a good little cumslut for him- Fuck-"

“I think I'm gonna cum again-” you squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth and the sudden pressure invites another unexpected orgasm. He's fucking into you with reckless abandon now, letting go of your wrist, positive that you won't run away from him anymore.

“Youre fucking squeezing me-” his hips speed up in pace and his palm finds the base of your throat. He watches you with heavy lidded eyes and pink stained cheeks. “I'm about to cum so hard inside you-”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and tears pool in your eyes because you're far too overstimulated. Your tongue lolls out and just then, Sunghoon's cock twitches inside you.

“Fuck, you're so good, Princess-” he lowers his head into crook of your neck as his cum floods your insides “Such a good cumslut for me- Fuck!” It's the loudest he's ever been during sex, the loudest you've ever been too. So loud that the silence that follows is absolutely deafening. Neither Of you can bring each other to derange your limbs, Feeling absolutely rattled from the animalistic sex that had just occurred. Neither of you thought you had it in you.

And yet here you were.

You don't speak because you're not a couple that uses too many words To communicate. All you do is rest your head against the tree bark, as Sunghoon languidly continues to stroke his softening cock inside you.

[mywritersmind]

TOUCH ME - LN4

summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.

listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!

word count : 747

⋆｡‧˚⋆

It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.

Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.

She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.

Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.

“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.

“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.

“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.

He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.

“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.

He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”

This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”

“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”

Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”

Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,

1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.

2. Lie.

Two seems safer.

“Of course not.” she shakes her head.

Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.

Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.

“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.

After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.

She jumped up and hugged him.

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.

“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.

“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”

“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.

She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”

“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.

She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.

She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.

“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”

He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”

She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.

He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

A bit mushy - Lewis Hamilton

Let's see how Lewis and his wife do in a Couple's Interview.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Fun and light Lewis for the win, again thanks a million times to @greedyjudge2 for the idea and for some of the questions, I know I don't usually write carefree Lewis but it's my favorite ❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

_______________________________________

The room was buzzing—cameras being adjusted, light stands tweaked and a handful of crew members chatting as they waited for everything to come together.

Lewis sat comfortably on the low-slung, cushy armchair beside his wife, his hand resting casually on the back of her seat tracing lazy circles on her back. They looked impossibly relaxed, as if the cameras were invisible, and this was just another day at home.

The director, a laid-back guy with a coffee stain on his jeans and a clipboard that looked way too serious for the vibe of the shoot, strolled over.

He was juggling his phone and an energy drink, clearly a man trying to keep his cool while wrangling two of the most charismatic people in motorsports.

“Okay, so this should be easy” he started, his voice overly casual like he almost didn’t want to disturb the couple’s chemistry “No serious stuff. No PR-approved answers. We’re here for the real deal. Just answering a few questions about each other, nothing too scandalous. Think... fun, but, y’know, juicy enough to make people smile.”

Lewis’s wife, legs crossed and leaning slightly into her husband’s space, raised an eyebrow. “Define juicy” a sly smile tugging at her lips.

The director chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, like... light-hearted scandal. Stuff people don’t already know. Maybe embarrass him a little—" he motioned to Lewis—"but in a cute way.”

Lewis shot the director a mock glare “Right, you don’t really need to ask her that” he said, his voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm.

His wife snorted, turning to face him with a grin. “Promise not to dig too deep. Unless we’re talking about those sneakers you wore to the beach...”

Lewis groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. “Not the beach sneakers again! One time and I’m branded for life.”

The crew around them snickered, and even the sound guy adjusted his headphones to cover a grin.

There was something about the way they bickered that had the whole room leaning in, as if everyone was witnessing the most intimate, casual conversation between two people who just fit.

The director, fully entertained, motioned to the cameraman to get ready. “Alright, alright. Let’s save the good stuff for the shoot. Remember, it’s just you two being yourselves. No need to put on a show.”

His wife reached over and squeezed Lewis’s hand. “No promises.”

As they shared a quiet laugh, the subtle touches and glances between them were enough to make anyone nearby smile. There was no need for grand gestures—the way they leaned into each other, how their conversations flowed effortlessly, said more than any scripted moment ever could.

They had that kind of love that made everyone else feel like they were in on something out of ordinary, just by watching.

The cameras zoomed in slowly as the couple got comfortable in their seats. Lewis leaned back, his arm still slung casually around his wife’s chair, his body slight angled so he could face her better, and she tucked one leg underneath her, turning toward him like she always did when they were in the middle of one of their many quiet conversations.

Except this wasn’t quite so quiet. The cameras were rolling now, and the world was about to get a glimpse into how they were with each other.

The director's voice came through, just loud enough to hear but never intrusive.

“Alright, let’s get this rolling. What embarrassing fashion trend did you take part in?”

Lewis immediately leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if he was preparing for battle. “I’ll own this one. Bandanas. Wore them with everything back in the day. Thought I was some kind of rockstar or something.”

She tilted her head, eyebrows shooting up. “Bandanas?” she asked, feigning surprise. Her eyes glimmered with mischief, and she leaned closer, as if letting the audience in on a secret. “You sure it wasn’t the Timberlands?”

Lewis threw his head back with a groan, already knowing where this was headed. “Not the Timbs,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he was in actual pain.

“Yeah, the Timbs” she said, fully grinning now. “Let me remind you, you used to wear them with everything. Jeans, tracksuits, shorts, suits—”

Lewis raised a hand, stopping her, though there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I still stand by those, alright? I don’t care what anyone says. Timbs are timeless.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, patting his leg. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The banter between them came so naturally, it was easy to forget there were cameras pointed right at them. The crew standing around had mostly stopped what they were doing, some watching the couple with amused smirks, others clearly touched by how playful yet undeniably affectionate they were towards each other.

“Okay, next question: What first attracted you to each other?”

Lewis’s wife leaned back, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to come up with something profound. “His sense of style,” she deadpanned, lips twitching as she fought back a grin.

Lewis blinked, his head cocked to the side. “Seriously? You were just attacking my Timbs? That guy’s sense of style?”

For a moment, she held her ground, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. But after a few seconds of staring at him—his bewildered look, the way he was just waiting for her to crack—she broke. Her laugh wasn’t exactly loud but it filled the room.

“Okay, fine!” She reached out, her hand landing on his thigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. “It was your eyes.”

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up as he gave her a soft smile. He just stared at her, thrown off by her sudden honesty.

She smiled, her gaze softening too as she looked at him. “They’re intense, you know? Like you see things really deeply. The way you look at the world... it’s impossible not to notice.”

Lewis was quiet for a beat, his usual witty retorts momentarily forgotten. His hand moved instinctively to cover hers on his leg, squeezing it gently. “Well, damn” he finally said, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.

The room around them seemed to still. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made it feel like they were the only ones there, like everyone else had faded away.

“Next one—‘On what occasion have you lied to me?’”

Lewis’s eyes went wide, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at his wife. “Uh… Remember when I blamed Roscoe for loosing up your house shoes?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re telling me you wore my house shoes, Lewis?!”

He winced, trying to play it cool. “I mean… It was just that one time! They looked comfy, and my feet were cold. I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Oh, I noticed,” she said, crossing her arms. “I just thought Roscoe had lied on them, not that your big feet had wrecked them!”

The crew chuckled, sensing the playful tension building between them.

“Roscoe was the perfect scapegoat…” Lewis defended himself.

“My poor baby” she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You threw him under the bus!”

“He didn’t seem to mind,” Lewis replied with a smirk, leaning closer to her, his tone turning softer. “But hey, I bought you new ones”

She raised a brow, clearly amused but still pretending to be serious.

“Have I ever made you jealous?”

Lewis leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk creeping across his face as he quipped in before she could. “She has, yes.”

His wife’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? When exactly?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time like he always did when he wanted to build up the suspense. She leaned in; her curiosity evident in the way her lips quirked. “Come on, give me the details.”

Lewis shook his head, clearly amused. “The silver dress” he said, voice low.

For a second, she didn’t react, clearly trying to place the memory. Then, like a lightbulb flicking on, her eyes widened in recognition. “Ohhh, that night!”

Her laughter exploded from her, loud and sudden, catching even the crew off guard. She leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach slightly as she laughed, while Lewis sat there, arms still crossed, trying his best to look annoyed but clearly failing.

“That night was something” she said between laughs, her eyes shimmering with tears of amusement.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “I’m glad you think it was so funny.”

“Oh, babe, you were so grumpy” she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Lewis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at her with that mix of exasperation and fondness that made it clear that, no matter what she did, she was always going to get away with it.

“What’s a song that reminds you of each other?”

This time, she didn’t even hesitate. “A Life Like This by Nao.”

Lewis’s face softened immediately. “Why that one?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. This one was softer, more intimate. “Because... before you, I was just going through life, you know? Things were just happening, and I wasn’t really... present. Then you came along, and it was like everything shifted. It was like my Saturn return was finally over, and I could just... breathe.”

For a moment, Lewis said nothing. His face betrayed him—no amount of his typical coolness could hide the way her words hit him.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really gonna get me emotional, huh?” he murmured, his voice so low only she and the mic could pick up on his voice.

She just smiled; her eyes full of love. “That’s the plan.”

The crew exchanged looks and quiet smiles. It was impossible not to feel the connection between them, like they were watching something precious unfold right in front of them.

“What’s something you wish you did more often?”

Lewis leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Lazy mornings.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah” he said softly, his eyes on her. “No alarms, no schedules, no meetings. Just us. Laying in bed, talking, laughing... not worrying about what we have to do next.”

She nodded again, her smile turning wistful. “Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and once again, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble.

“Okay love birds, next up ‘What is the most treasured possession that the other has given you?’”

She paused, tapping her chin as if she really had to think about it, though the answer was clearly already on her mind. “The necklace you gave me on our third date.”

The director blinked, looking between them. “Third date?”

“Oh yeah” she nodded, leaning back in her chair, eyes sparkling as she shot Lewis a teasing look. “He was whipped by then.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “You make it sound like I was proposing marriage.”

“You weren’t far off, though” she teased, reaching for the necklace hanging delicately around her neck. “He gave me this beautiful pendant, that he designed himself, by the way, and I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this guy is serious.’”

Lewis chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew what I wanted.”

“That you did” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah” he grinned. “No point in playing games.”

She looked down at the necklace again, her voice softening. “It’s not just the necklace though. It’s what it represented. He was showing me he wasn’t just there for fun—he was there for real.”

Lewis met her gaze, his smile quieter now, filled with affection. “I meant it then, and I mean it now.”

“When did you first know that you were in love?”

This time, she was the one to hesitate, a mischievous glint in her eye. “In love with whom?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Lewis groaned, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, don’t start.”

She giggled, clearly enjoying every second of his exasperation. “I knew I loved you when we went through about a dozen paint stores in Milan looking for the perfect shade of gold for that painting.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could’ve just mixed the colors myself and gotten something close. But you were so invested in finding the exact match that I just... I kept going. And I knew it then. I knew I loved you because you cared about the little things, the details that most people would overlook.”

Lewis stared at her; his face unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that seemed to melt the room around them.

“What’s your favorite memory of the two of you?”

Lewis leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That time we missed the flight in Paris.”

She let out a groan, breaking the feeling in the room, she already knew where this story was headed. “Nooo, not that!”

“Yep,” Lewis said with a smile. “So we were in Paris, right? And someone—” he pointed at her playfully, “—was absolutely convinced that the subway would get us to the airport faster than any car could.”

“It would’ve!” she protested, already laughing. “The traffic was insane!”

“Yeah sure” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So there we were, dragging our bumps through the subway stations, hopping from one line to the next. Every station was like a maze, and we were so lost. I kept telling you, ‘Let’s just get a cab,’ but nooo, you were determined.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It was an adventure!”

“It was chaos and we missed the flight by hours” Lewis corrected, his voice teasing but fond.

“But honestly? It’s one of my favorite memories. You were so carefree, so determined, so in the present. We were lost in Paris but we weren’t lost within ourselves.”

Her smile softened, her eyes holding his for a long moment. “You never told me that was your favorite memory.”

“Yeah” he said quietly, his voice more sincere now. “I felt like we could just... slow down. Be present. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me.”

For a moment, they were silent, the weight of his words settling between them. The room around them was so still that the soft hum of the cameras was the only sound. The crew watched them closely, as if holding their collective breath.

She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, and whispered just loud enough for the microphones to catch “I think that’s my favorite memory now, too.”

Lewis smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, and for a few seconds, it was like the cameras weren’t even there. It was just them, lost in a shared memory, a world of their own.

The director, sensing the intimacy of the moment, cleared his throat gently.

“Alright, now to wrap this up ‘When can we expect little Hamiltons running around?”

Both Lewis and his wife exchanged quick glances, and almost in unison, they burst out laughing—only this time, their laughter had a bit of an edge, like they knew something the room didn’t.

Lewis leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together. “Ooooh, good one.”

“You had to go there, didn’t you?” she added, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “Real smooth.”

The crew, sensing the couple was playing coy, leaned in just a bit, waiting for a juicy response. But instead, Lewis leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Well, you never know, right?”

His wife smirked, glancing at him sideways, playing along. “When you least expect it”

The director, not quite satisfied, pressed on. “Any plans in the near future?”

“Oh, besides, like, tomorrow’s plans?” she quipped, keeping the teasing energy alive.

Lewis chimed in again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve got a lot of plans. Travel, Roscoe’s bath time…”

The director chuckled, shaking his head. “Dodging the question, I see.”

Lewis gave a knowing look to the camera, adding one final, cryptic comment. “We’ll let you know when it happens... maybe.”

And with that, they both smiled at the cameras, their laughter filling the air as the director called “cut” for the final time.

The room gradually came back to life, the hum of equipment being packed up and crew members chatting quietly filling the air. The couple stayed seated, though, still caught in the gentle pull of their shared moment, almost unaware of the bustling scene around them.

Lewis exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced at his wife, his arm instinctively pulling her a little closer. She smiled, still leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

“That was a bit mushy, wasn’t it?” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, though there was warmth in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

Lewis smirked, brushing his thumb gently against her arm. “Just a little. But you started it.”

She chuckled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Tou’re not usually one for getting all sentimental on camera.”

He shrugged lightly, but there was no real defensiveness in his posture.

She smiled, her heart swelling at the softness in his gestures. “Good. I like you better that way.”

She sighed softly, sitting up a little and stretching her arms out with a satisfied groan. “People are going to think we’re a pair of softies.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Let them.”

She smiled, sitting back in her chair and looking at him with a tenderness that only deepened as she reached out, her hand cupping his cheek for a brief moment. “I guess it’s not the worst thing to be.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and looked straight at her. “Nah, it’s not.”

Unbeknownst to them, the cameras were still rolling—just a little, a behind-the-scenes shot meant to capture those moments of candidness. The crew tried to keep their distance, giving the couple their space, but every now and then, someone would glance over, a quiet smile tugging at their lips. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lewis and his wife, the way they moved around each other, the way they fit together.

Without thinking, he stood up and extended a hand to her, pulling her up from her seat. As she stood, she let out a small laugh, one that was soft and filled with affection. But before she could fully straighten up, Lewis slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest in a gentle, protective embrace.

For a second, she stiffened—more out of surprise than anything—but then she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was a simple gesture, nothing extravagant, but in that moment, it was everything.

“Alright, lover boy” she murmured, her voice laced with contentment. “What’s all this about?”

“Just holding you” he replied simply, his voice low and soothing, the kind of tone he used when it was just the two of them, no audience, no pressure. “Feels like we haven’t had a minute to ourselves in forever.”

She smiled as she found her place on the crock of his neck, her fingers absently tracing circles on the back of his neck “You’ll get them,” she promised quietly. “We’ll make time.”

Eventually, Lewis pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he started, his tone teasing “about those Timbs.”

She groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. “I thought we agreed to leave the Timbs in the past.”

“I never agreed to that” he grinned, tightening his arms around her playfully. “I’m still rocking them, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her. “Well, at least one of us has evolved.”

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, the sincerity of the words wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. “I really do.”

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[irndad]

don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people. 

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 

“I don’t think so, Spence.” 

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status. 

[andshesaidwhat]

Steamy - Sam Monroe Smut

Summary: Sam has been your best friend since you were kids. When he starts avoiding you and acting strange, you decide to take matters into your own hands and things get steamy…

Warnings: penetrative sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (Sam receiving), handjob (Sam receiving), teasing, voyeurism, masturbation (Sam receiving), inexperienced!Sam, Sam finishes too fast, multiple orgasms (Sam receiving), thigh-fucking, nipple play?, slight dacryphilia, subby!Sam, edging, Sam whimpers a lot, maybe a smidge of degradation, Sam is down-horrendous.

Masterlist

Sam rested his forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall as he relentlessly fucked his fist. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to block out the guilt as his mind raced with perverted thoughts.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He hadn’t intended on showering in your bathroom as an excuse to touch himself. You had just decided to wear one of his old t-shirts today and that…that had sent him over the edge.

Sam had been fighting off these feelings for a long time. If he was honest with himself, they’d always been there. When you were kids, it was easier. He didn’t understand the mechanics of all of it. He just knew he liked being around you more than anyone else, so he spent all the time he could with you. You were best friends, after all. That was normal.

Then, puberty happened. You developed tits and he developed an innate need to see them, touch them, taste them, anything.

It was harder now. You were both in college and still spending all of your time with each other. Every waking moment of Sam’s was spent thinking of you, watching you, imagining all of the ways he wanted to be with you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be your friend — he loved being your friend. You were the only person in the world that ever actually saw him for who he was. It was just that he couldn’t escape these desires that grew stronger and stronger every time you smiled at him or batted your lashes or laughed or…

Yeah, he was fucked.

He knew that he needed to get his feelings for you in check. His biggest fear was doing some dumb shit to lose you. That’s why he’d been trying to create just a little distance lately. He only resorted to that when he felt like he wouldn’t be able to control himself around you. It just so happened that, lately, that was almost all of the time.

When he’d gotten to your place today, he had told himself that he wouldn’t let his attraction get the better of him — that he’d be normal — but, the minute he saw you in his shirt he felt like he could’ve melted into the earth. It was so cute, hugging your frame perfectly and just barely covering those tight ass shorts you had on underneath.

He’d tried to contain himself, he really had. He tried looking anywhere else but at you, tried thinking of every unsexy thing his mind could possibly dream up, but his efforts were all in vain. No matter what he did, his gaze would eventually wander back over to you. His mind would run wild with different scenarios. You in his shirt with nothing underneath. Him bending you over, lifting the material up just enough to take you from behind. Giving you more of his clothes to wear so that everyone knew you were his.

He hadn’t even realized how painfully hard he had gotten or how labored his breathing had become until you asked, “Are you alright, Sammy?”

Fuck, he almost came in his pants from the sweet sound of your voice as you said his nickname that he only allowed you to call him.

He felt his face flame as his eyes widened and he pulled the covers from your bed further over himself to make sure his erection was hidden.

“Y-yeah, fine,” he sputtered, trying to will himself to get a fucking grip.

“Are you sure?” You asked, reaching your hand out to touch his forehead. “You look flushed.”

He had to fight not to moan as your skin came in contact with his, so soft and tender. Your eyebrows were scrunched up in that adorable way they did whenever you were worried about him.

He wanted to see them scrunched up for other reasons, for all the pleasure he knew he could give you if you let him try. He wanted to hear you say his name like a plea of desperation, begging him for more, more, more.

“I think I just need to take a shower,” he muttered, quickly getting up and rushing to the bathroom before you could see any evidence of his arousal.

He paced in the bathroom, fisting at his hair as he tried to calm down. This was getting a bit pathetic. He couldn’t even be in the same fucking room as you without being embarrassingly close to coming untouched.

He stripped down, tossing his clothes to the floor as he stepped into the shower and shut the glass door behind him. He turned the water on to the coldest setting, cringing as he stood beneath it.

C’mon, this needs to work, he thought to himself as he shook from the cold. The icy water caused goosebumps to erupt on his skin, but did nothing to calm the raging hard-on that was still standing proud and aching. He groaned in frustration, hitting his head against the wall as he tried his best to fight off his arousal.

Finally, he gave in and wrapped his fist around his cock. He gave himself a few slow, guilt-ridden strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut. He hissed at the feeling, relief slowly flooding through his abdomen.

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. Touching himself to the thought of you was already bad enough, but touching himself to the thought of you while you were in the next room? If only you knew how fucked up he truly was. You’d never look at him again…

He fought the urge to moan at the thought of your hand replacing his, or better yet — your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip as he thrusted into his hand.

He needed to get this over with. He needed to handle his problem and get back out there before you started to suspect that something was wrong.

He was desperately chasing his release but, despite how badly he wanted it, his own touch wasn’t getting him there this time.

He needed more.

You had worn his shirt on purpose.

You were tired of him avoiding the situation — avoiding you.

It hadn’t taken you long to figure out why he’d been acting so strange lately. You’d noticed the way his eyes would linger on your form, the way his face would flush when you called his name, the way he’d try to discretely adjust himself in his pants when you’d get too close to him.

You’d always wondered why he’d never had a girlfriend. It wasn’t that girls didn’t desire him. He had just always been oblivious to their advances.

In actuality, you’d realized, he was just too focused on you.

You’d always harbored feelings for Sam. Ever since you were kids. He was your first childhood crush. You’d never told him, though, too scared that he’d tease you relentlessly for it. It wasn’t until lately that you realized those feelings had been reciprocated. 

Once you’d made the realization, you’d started trying to push him further and further. You’d hoped that he would snap, finally admitting to you what he’d been feeling.

He never did, though. In fact, he did the opposite. He kept avoiding you, frustrating you to no end.

You huffed out a sigh, looking over at the clock on your bedside table. He’d been in the shower for almost twenty minutes. You gnawed on your lip, contemplating your next move.

Finally, with a newfound determination, you got up from your bed and walked toward your bathroom. You were tired of waiting for him to get the hint. He’d left you no choice. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

You opened the bathroom door, shutting it behind you as you called out, “What’s taking you so long in here, Sammy? I have to shower, too, ya know?”

Sam yelped, startled at your entry. You could only barely make out his figure behind the frosted glass, but it made your heart race nonetheless.

“J-Jesus, don’t you knock?” Sam sputtered, his voice laced with nervous energy.

“It’s my house,” you retorted, crossing your arms as you leaned against the sink.

You heard Sam sigh before he said, “I’ll be out in a minute just…give me a second.”

You began undressing before you could talk yourself out of it. This was a bold move, even for you, but you knew that Sam needed something to be shoved in his face for him to realize what was right in front of him.

“You’ve already been in here for twenty minutes and I have things to do later,” you grumbled, pretending to be inconvenienced. “I’m just coming in.”

“W-what?!” Sam stuttered, his voice nearly jumping up an octave.

You opened the glass door, stepping into the shower as you tried to appear nonchalant. Sam quickly covered himself with his hands, his entire body flushing red as he looked up at the ceiling to avoid looking at your naked frame.

You took this time to unabashedly look him over. His cupped hands only left little to the imagination. You bit your bottom lip, drinking in the sight of him. Arousal immediately began pooling between your thighs as you stepped underneath the water.

You yelped at the temperature, jumping back and adjusting the valve.

“Christ, Sammy, why the hell is it so cold in here?” you asked, despite knowing exactly why he’d been taking a cold shower.

“I-I just like it cold, okay?” Sam retorted, attitude biting with his words.

You turned the knob until the water ran hot, letting the steam fill the confines of the shower. You sighed, contentedly, stepping back under the water.

“Much better,” you breathed, practically moaning as the warm water washed away the tension in your muscles.

As the steam filled the air, Sam’s head was spinning. It was suffocating. He was surrounded by your scent. It took everything in him to keep his eyes glued to the ceiling. Even the glimpses he caught of your body from the corner of his eye were nearly enough to make him fall to his knees.

He had a difficult enough time keeping it together around you when you were fully clothed, how could he be expected to keep his composure when you were naked and wet a foot away from him?

He could feel his still-hard cock pulsing beneath his hands as he tried his best to cover himself. He felt like he’d somehow entered one of his wet dreams. Confusion and arousal fogged his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The two of you had never even seen each other naked, much less showered together.

He refused to let himself believe that this could mean that you wanted him the same way he wanted you. He wouldn’t give himself that kind of false hope. He could only pray that he’d be able to get through this without making a complete fool out of himself.

You reached for the shampoo, lathering it into your hair. You smirked when you heard Sam breathe in a little too deeply. Glancing back at him, he still had his head facing toward the ceiling.

“You don’t have to break your neck trying not to look at me,” you laughed, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. “It’s not like you’ve never seen tits before.”

“I’ve never seen yours…” Sam mumbled, quietly, a new blush rising to his cheeks.

“Mine are just like any others,” you shrugged, brushing your conditioner through your hair with your fingers.

Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from responding that nobody could be like you. He was fighting so hard to keep his gaze averted but now you were practically inviting him to look at you. Even on his strongest day, there was no chance he could pass up the opportunity. He’d just look once, he told himself. Just enough of a glance to embed the image into his brain for when he jacked himself off to the thought of you.

He took a deep breath before stealing a quick look over at you. He involuntarily squeezed his dick, trying not to come on the spot. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him for the way you’d look standing naked in front of him, water dripping from your body.

He forced himself to look up at your face instead of your tits — your goddamned perfect tits — but that didn’t help his situation in the slightest. Not when you were smirking at him like you were privy to some secret that he was not. Or when you were batting your lashes, sending water drops down your cheeks. Then you bit your lip and Jesus fucking Christ he felt every cell in his body burn at the sight.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way his eyes fought between looking at your face and looking at your chest. You could sense the stress he was putting himself through, and almost felt bad for what you were doing. You weren’t going to stop, though. Not when you finally had him right where you wanted him.

You moved to grab the bottle of soap, intentionally letting it fall from your grasp. Out of instinct, Sam reached out to catch it. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erection springing forward into view.

He was big. Bigger than you’d expected. He was hard and leaking, his tip red and aching. He followed your gaze down, his eyes widening as he realized what you were looking at. He quickly handed you the bottle of soap back, moving to cover himself again.

“You know,” you started, smirking as you poured the soap into your hand, “if you need to take care of that, you can. I don’t mind.”

“W-what?” Sam coughed, his face a deep shade of red. “No! No way.”

“It’s natural, Sammy,” you shrugged. “I do it all the time. Besides, it looks real painful. I won’t watch if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam wanted the earth to swallow him whole in that moment. He didn’t think his skin could burn any hotter than it was right then. You were teasing him, torturing him.

He didn’t know which part was worse — the way you said his name, the mental image of you touching yourself, or the attention you had paid to his predicament. His body felt like it was going to erupt into flames at any given moment.

You had to know. You had to. There was no way that all of this was just some random coincidence. The two of you had never breached that line of friendship and now, here you were, telling him to touch himself in front of you.

He couldn’t do that. There would be no coming back from that. There would be no way that he could recover. He’d come the minute he touched his dick if your eyes were on him, and how would he explain that?

However, you had said you wouldn’t watch…and he did really really need the relief…

Sam bit his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he contemplated his options. He knew that he shouldn’t, but the offer was so tempting…

“You promise you won’t watch?”

Your smirk grew as Sam gave in to his desires, just like you knew he would. You crossed your heart with your finger and Sam squeezed his eyes shut as his gaze was unintentionally brought back down to your chest.

Giggling, you turned back around to face the other side of the shower. You didn’t miss the way Sam’s eyes travelled down to your ass as you did. You began lathering the soap into your skin as you heard the wet sounds of his fist stroking his dick over the hum of the shower.

You bit your lip, focusing on the way he let little breaths escape him. You could imagine how hard he was trying to refrain from making any other noises. You wanted to hear him, wanted to know exactly how he was feeling.

Curiosity and the need to push him further getting the better of you, you asked, “Are you always this quiet when you jack off?”

He sucked in a breath and sputtered, “Jesus, fuck, you…you can’t talk to me right now.”

You stifled a giggle, feigning innocence as you said, “Why not, Sammy?”

“Don’t say my name,” he practically pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it would help,” you laughed, done beating around the bush. “Don’t you usually imagine me saying your name when you do this?”

You turned back around to face him, cocking your head to the side. His eyes widened and his hand stopped moving as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

Your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, chest flushed and heaving, his fist squeezed tightly around his erection.

“W-what…I don’t…I haven’t…” Sam stuttered, trying to come up with some kind of denial to your statement.

“Oh, come on,” you huffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m not oblivious and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

Sam’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Relax, Sammy, it’s okay,” you said, beginning to slowly lather the soap into your skin. “Keep going.”

“What?” He gulped, eyes shooting open as they focused on the way your hands moved across your body in an agonizingly tempting motion.

“Keep going, Sammy,” you repeated, not taking your eyes off of him.

He released a shuddered breath, licking his lips as his eyes locked back on yours. Slowly, he began to move his fist again.

His jaw fell slack as his gaze followed the motion of your hands, teasing him as you trailed suds across your chest. His hand moved faster, his eyelids fluttering as a strained noise sounded from his throat.

“Is this what you think about, Sammy?” You taunted, moving your hands lower down your stomach.

Sam gasped, nodding his head as he muttered, “uh-huh.”

His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his hips thrusting into his fist. His hooded eyes were dark with desire as they traveled over your body. His movements became sloppy, his brows knitting together.

You could tell he was close, soft sounds involuntarily escaping his lips. His muscles were visibly tensing as his breaths started to come out in short spurts.

You’d had enough of being a bystander. Every nerve in your body was alight with desire and you wanted to close the distance between you two. You were done playing this game. If he was going to come, you wanted it to be by your hands.

Sam let out an involuntary whine of protest as you grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from himself. His eyes widened as you moved him until his back was pressed against the cold shower wall.

“W-what are you…what’s happening…oh, fuck.”

Sam’s questions were silenced the minute you pressed yourself against him. He gasped, clenching his fists by his side, seemingly using all of his restraint to keep from touching you.

He looked down at you, his gaze pleading and questioning as he asked, “What is this?”

“I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move,” you shrugged, grabbing his face.

His brows furrowed, confusion etched into his features. His mouth opened and closed, as if trying to form the words he wanted to say.

“Waiting for…what do you mean?”

“God, you’re so oblivious,” you mumbled, pulling his face down to yours and pressing your lips against his.

He immediately buckled, leaning into the kiss. He couldn’t help but groan into your mouth, a sound that betrayed the intensity of his arousal. The pressure building in his groin grew, his need growing at an unbearable pace. He arched his hips forward, desperate for contact. You pulled back, biting your lip as you peered up at him.

Sam held his breath, the moment teetering on the edge of ecstasy. His heart hammered so loud that it threatened to drown out the sound of the shower. His eyes were dizzy and unfocused as he looked down at you. This was both the most exhilarating and most terrifying moment of his life. The anticipation was agonizing, maddening.

You glanced down at his pouted lips, as if daring him to make a move. His tongue darted out, flicking across them as his gaze moved between your eyes and your mouth.

Finally, after working up the courage, he leaned forward. You grinned as you tilted your head back, keeping your lips just out of reach. He furrowed his eyebrows, releasing a shaky breath before trying again. You let his lips barely brush against yours before you dodged him again, smirking at the teasing game you were playing with him.

He looked at you with pleading eyes, desperation etched into his features, as a needy whine sounded in his throat. He whispered your name, fists tightening as every muscle in his body tensed with longing.

“Please,” he whispered, his jaw clenching with the effort to keep his composure.

With that one word, he completely crumbled your resolve. His eyes were dark and glassy with desire and unshed tears and you were prepared to give him anything he asked for.

You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him into a heated kiss. His lips immediately parted, devouring your own. He kissed you like he was starved, like you were his only source of oxygen after he’d been suffocating with need.

There was still a hesitancy in his actions, a part of him that was restraining himself. Whether it was out of fear or lack of knowledge, you didn’t hesitate to guide him.

Your fingertips trailed down his arms, causing him to shiver. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. He moaned into your mouth, his touch instantly beginning to wander.

The urgency in his kiss increased, his hands roaming your back, your sides, your legs. Years of built up tension came bubbling to the surface as you both began to drown in each other.

Sam’s voice was low and husky, barely coherent against your lips as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”

The pressure between his legs was a stinging reminder of his desperation. The need within him was leaking with each touch, each kiss. He reveled in the control you wielded over him. Sam’s mind was lost in a sea of lust. This was a moment he’d dreamed about for years. The thought of it was almost too much, the entire situation overwhelming.

You guided his hands up to your chest and Sam wasted no time in palming your tits. He squeezed gently, kissing you with blazing fervor. When his thumbs experimentally swiped across your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure against his lips.

Sam’s brain short-circuited the minute he heard your reaction. His hips surged forward, pushing his aching erection between your clenched thighs. He had been so worked up and the pressure provided just the right amount of friction. He gasped, letting out a strangled moan as he clutched onto you. His eyes rolled back as an orgasm ripped through him, instinctively continuing to thrust between the plush skin of your thighs.

Sam panted, slowly opening his eyes again as he came down from the high. His entire body flushed at the revelation of what had just occurred. He took in your amused expression, groaning in embarrassment as he buried his face into your neck.

You stifled a giggle, gently rubbing his back as you whispered, “It’s okay, Sammy. It happens.”

He whimpered against your skin, wrapping his arms around you. He was torn between wishing he could disappear, never having to face you again, and wanting to stay in this moment forever.

“Besides,” you smirked, leaning down to pepper gentle kisses across his shoulder, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam inhaled, sharply, his breath hot against your neck. His body instantly responded, his arousal already stirring again at the prospect alone.

You grabbed his face, lifting his head back up to meet his gaze. His cheeks were still tinged pink, bringing out the bright blue of his dilated eyes.

You traced his swollen lips with your thumb and asked, “Do you think you can do it again for me?”

“Mhm,” he responded, nodding eagerly. “I’ll do anything for you.”

You grinned, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Promise?”

He pulled you into him, closing the gap between you so that you couldn’t pull away again. He kissed you passionately, groaning as you bit down on his bottom lip.

“Promise,” he mumbled into the kiss, “anything you want.”

You reached up to grab his chin, tilting it to the side as you slowly kissed down his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, his body quivering at the tender attention. He cradled your head with a trembling hand, urging you on as your lips made their way across his skin.

Sam whimpered when you nipped at his pulse point, the hand in your hair tightening as you gently sucked a dark mark into the pale skin. You kissed across his chest, letting your hands run down his sides. He gasped as your teeth grazed over one of his nipples.

Your lips continued their descent down his body as you slowly sank to your knees in front of him. Sam let out a shaky breath, whispering your name as his legs nearly gave out.

You blinked up at him, water drops coating your lashes, as you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs.

“You’ll do anything I want?” You asked, kissing across his hips.

“Uh-huh,” he rasped, licking his lips as he nodded his head. “Anything you want. I swear it.”

Your mouth watered as you sat eye-level with his dick that was steadily twitching back to life. He gasped as you took him into your hand, his fists clenching tightly by his sides. You slowly began to stroke him, watching as he bit his lip to try and hold back the sounds threatening to spill from his lips.

“Then I want to hear how good it feels, Sammy,” you told him, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip.

“Shit,” he cursed, hardening again in your grip.

Your tongue traced a line up his shaft, slowly circling it around the head of his dick before taking him entirely into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, panting as he gripped the shower wall for support. “That’s…a-ah…that’s really good.”

The sight of you was overwhelming. He had only ever pictured you this way in his dirtiest dreams. You, on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock, gazing up at him like the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, peering down at you through hooded lids. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You watched his chest heave as you worked him, using your hand to cover what your mouth couldn’t fit. His fist was still tangled in your hair, but he didn’t dare attempt to control your movements.

Sam’s eyes rolled back as he felt himself hit the back of your throat, the sensation causing his hips to stutter. You swallowed around him and his entire body threatened to crumble. Strings of lewd moans and whimpers escaped his lips as his back arched off of the wall.

“Oh, god,” he panted, throwing his head back against the shower wall, “I’m…fuck…I’m gonna…”

You pulled off of him and he let out a whine, thrusting to desperately chase your lips. You grabbed his hips, holding them still as you rose back up to your feet.

“Why’d you stop?” Sam pouted, scrunching his eyebrows together in desperation. “I was so close.”

Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath it, as you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d want to stop before getting to be inside of me, but if you’d rather settle for my hands then I can keep going,” you taunted, cocking your head to the side.

“No,” he croaked out, his voice breaking off into a desperate moan at the mere thought of that privilege. “I wanna be inside you. Please, let me be inside of you.”

He clutched at you, pulling you into him as he crashed his mouth against yours. You immediately responded to the kiss, parting your lips and tasting his tongue with your own.

Without breaking the kiss, you pulled him forward and switched your positions so that your back was now pressed against the shower wall.

You reached down, grabbing his dick and stroking it as you lined it up with your entrance. He gasped, breaking apart to rest his forehead against yours. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked down between your bodies, watching you tease them finally joining together.

“Please, don’t keep teasing me,” he begged, his voice hoarse with need. “I can’t take it.”

You wrapped a leg around his waist and Sam held his breath, his mouth falling open as you guided his hips to slowly sheath into you. As his length filled you, stretching you out with a delicious burn, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan.

Once he was buried to the hilt, his hips flesh against your own, he finally released his breath in a strangled whimper.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes away from the sight of you wrapped around him.

“Fuck me, Sammy,” you whispered, watching as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

His breath hitched as he nodded, his body trembling with nervous anticipation. He pulled back, almost completely out of you, before pushing back in with a slow, experimental thrust.

You both gasped at the feeling, moaning into the shared air between your mouths. He repeated the motion again, familiarizing himself with the way your body practically pulled him in.

His thrusts got faster as his lips found yours again in a heated kiss. You clutched onto his shoulders for support, feeling every nerve in your body ignite in flames of pleasure.

“You feel so good,” you mumbled, arching into him. “Such a perfect fit.”

Sam groaned against your lips, his hips picking up the pace. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confessed, the dam of his emotions suddenly breaking as he fucked into you. “I-I dreamed about you, every day. You were all…ah…I ever wanted.”

“I know, Sammy, I know,” you panted, reaching up to kiss him again. “I’ve always felt the same way, you were just too blind to notice.”

He whimpered at the revelation, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He grabbed your waist, using it as leverage as his hips snapped up into yours.

“Fuck,” he whined, breathing out your name. “I-I’m getting close. I’m not gonna be able to last.”

“I need you to hold on just a little longer, Sammy,” you told him, earning a desperate whimper as his eyes grew glassy again.

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding his thumb to your clit. You moved it in slow circles, showing him how to touch you. He picked up the action quickly, moving his fingers on their own accord.

You moaned at the added stimulation, feeling Sam’s hips stutter as you squeezed around him. Ragged breaths wracked through him as he tried desperately to hold on for you.

“Wanna hear you, Sammy,” you prompted.

A single tear drop fell down his cheek from the sheer effort of keeping his climax at bay as he began to mindlessly ramble.

“You feel so good. Squeezin’ around me all tight and warm. Could just stay buried in you forever. Never wanna stop. I’ll do anything to satisfy you. Anything you want. I’ll get on my hands and knees if you ask me to. Just wanna make you happy. Just wanna keep feelin’ you like this.”

He kissed down your neck, needing to occupy his mouth. He buried his face against your chest, gasping and whimpering as his movements chased the high he desperately craved.

“No one else gets to have me like this,” you promised, feeling that familiar knot of pleasure tightening in the pit of your stomach. Each stroke of his thumb against your clit, paired with the tip of his dick repeatedly brushing that spot inside of you, pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re the only one I want, Sammy. The only one who can make me feel this way.”

He let out a strained cry against your skin, his fingers gripping the plush skin of your waist tighter.

“Please, I need to come,” he begged, the desperation making his voice raw. “I need it, baby, please.”

The sweet sounds of his pleading was the final thread that unraveled the knot.

“Come for me, Sammy,” you breathed.

You felt the white hot pleasure course through your veins as you tightened around him, feeling your climax wash over you in a tidal wave.

He came with a cry of your name, clutching onto you as he continued to thrust into you. His vision seemed to black out as he finally let go, giving you everything.

The world around you seemed to fade as you both came down from the mutual high. Sam’s body relaxed into yours, his hands still trembling as you both tried to catch your breath. You settled into a blissful haze, engulfed by the warmth of the shower.

You held him close to you, running your fingers soothingly through his hair as you smiled lazily, “You done avoiding me now?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, grinning sheepishly. He nuzzled into your neck, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Never gonna avoid you again.”

“Good,” you responded, “it would be a dick move to avoid your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Sam asked, his head snapping up as he looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Well, yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “Unless you’d rather this just be a one time thing.”

“No!” Sam interjected, quickly, shaking his head. “I want this to be an all the time thing. Every day. Multiple times a day, if possible.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling as you playfully shoved him. He laughed, his entire face lighting up with joy and relief as he hugged you to him.

“You know, it was kind of a creeper move to barge in on me in the shower,” he joked, looking down at you with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Hey, you were the one jacking off to me in my own house!” You argued, laughing as you poked his chest.

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before grabbing your face and sweetly kissing your lips.

He hummed softly and whispered, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

You beamed up at him, feeling your heart flutter in his embrace. You used up the remaining hot water to actually shower off, tending to each other as you did. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was how it was always meant to be.

Maybe it’s true what they say. Everything happens for a reason.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Jealousy

Three times Jason gets jealous during dates and one time you do (Pre-established relationship) ~1.6k words

You're perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Jason's life has never been better since he's asked you to be his partner. (Okay, hush, you asked him, but he was getting there, he swears, he had this twelve step plan and everything. Tim was going to jump off a ledge while throwing rose petals. Rose petals!)

He can't find a single problem with how your relationship is going. Well, expect, how everyone else seems to want your attention you too.

The little Café you wanted to try is nice, really. The guy behind the counter that's been staring at you since you both got here? Not so nice. It's annoying, how the guys gaze seems to linger on your legs, your smile, the way you brush your hair back. It's a struggle to focus on your words– but not a struggle to watch the way your lips move when you talk.

The worker takes a step out from behind the counter.

Oh hell no.

Jason's on his feet and pulling out the chair next to you in an instant, between one word your pretty voice is saying and the next, he's sitting by your side with an arm draped around your shoulder.

He loses his train of thought when you smile, pleased, and raise an eyebrow.

"What's this for, Jason?"

"Wanted to hear you better." He says, or he thinks he says that. He's too busy watching the creep slink back behind the counter, satisfaction growing in his chest.

You laugh. (He thinks angels might descend from the sky when you do.) And go back to telling your story. It's much easier to listen this time. That's what he tells himself, at least until your thigh presses against his.

Gotham Zoo is actually really nice for, you know, Gotham. Bruce poured money into it before, but ever since Damian found out about it, he's practically ensured the place will run ethically and comfortably for the next 100 years. Which Jason thought was cool, but it's even cooler that he gets to watch his partner coo over the new petting zoo.

"Aw, Jason, look at the lambs! They're so soft. I wanna take one home." You sound giddy, eyes bright and smile wide. He can't quite pull his focus away from you to see which creature you're referring to.

"They're pretty cute." He responds instead. Not cuter than you, though.

"Could you imagine one for the apartment? They'd sleep in bed with us. It would be like cuddling a cloud." You say idly, fingers stoking the top of the animals head.

That makes him pause. How'd he cuddle you if there's some barn animal in the middle of the bed? There's no way he could get close enough to you if some pet you found cute was cuddled between you. He clears his throat. "Well, ah, I don't know how the landlord feels about lambs but you can always cuddle me? I'm– I could be soft?" Wow, okay. Not what he wanted to say. He cringes a little.

But you stand up, smiling brighter and gaze focused on him. That settles the feeling in the pit of his stomach. You curl your fingers with his and take his hand, pulling it to your face to kiss his knuckles. "You're my favorite thing to cuddle, you know."

Oh. "Huh. I mean, good." He stumbles out. No, his ears are definitely not feeling warm. And no, his heart isn't beating faster as he follows you towards the next enclosure. "I could wear wool, though? If you wanted?"

That makes you laugh. Eyes trailing to him with such fondness he nearly sinks to his knees. Until he sees the playfulness etched in your face. "I saw you petting those rabbits early. I could wear bunny ears? If you wanted?"

He chokes on air. You might be trying to kill him. His whole face feels as heated as his ears. "Wow. I– if you wanted?"

You giggle, pulling away to observe the next lucky animal that you see.

"Hey. Wait–" He says your name, voice a little pitched. "Did you want–?" You only wink at him. That shuts him. And if he spends the rest of the date a little distracted, well, you seem proud that you managed to make him so flustered.

Your coworker has been talking to you for thirteen minutes and fourty-seven seconds. Jason knows this because he's been watching the clock since he got here. It happens more often than not, him walking you home from work. He shows up fifteen minutes early because he knows you'll slip out given the chance. Something about not taking up too much of his time. Don't you know you're the only one he wants to spend his time with?

Jason crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at your coworker. Three inches. That's the amount of space your coworker has moved closer to you since he's gotten here. Not respectable at all. Doesn't he know you're with Jason? Maybe he should have stopped into that jewelry store he was eyeing earlier. And called Tim to put in an order for rose petals.

Your coworker shifts another inch towards you. And that's it. Your shift has thirty-five seconds left and that's exactly the amount of time it takes for him to be by your side. His arm slips around your waist comfortably, like it belongs there, because it does. He kisses your cheek and lets his gaze settle on your coworker. And if his face is a little more threatening than usual, he definitely isn't trying to intimidate your coworker. (Yes, he is.)

"Ready to go home, sweetheart?" He drawls, body relaxed like he isn't torn between showing your coworker exactly who you're dating and pushing down the jumble of emotion in his throat. "I was thinking take out for dinner?"

You relax into his side. Oh. You relaxed into his side and you're smiling at him. It evens out the pounding in his heart he didn't even realize was happening. The tension threatening to take over his shoulders disappears like it never existed.

"Yeah, Jason, I'm ready. I missed you. Just let me clock out." You pull away– 'no' he starts to think– and then you take his hand, pulling him along with you.

"I missed you too." He answers, and you don't quite see the smug grin he sends over his shoulder to your coworker.

Jason's perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Willing to try new things. A total package. That's something you know about your boyfriend. So when he agreed to go dancing with you at Gothams newest club, you were excited. A whole night spent enjoying time with your boyfriend. And you both get to dress up a little. You feel hot, and he definitely looks hot. You didn't think that'd be an issue. But, it is. Because you can see your boyfriend getting held up by two of the prettiest girls you've ever seen.

He's holding two drinks, one for himself and one he went to get for you. It soothes the tightness in your throat that he does not look thrilled to be talking to them. The softness he has when he's with you gone, replaced with poorly masked annoyance.

Any comfort you were feeling from the look on his face disappears when one of the girls puts her hand on his arm, giggling like he's said the funniest thing in the world. Absolutely not. You're walking over to them before Jason even has time to shrug her hand from his arm.

"Hey, honey." You say, voice sweet and sugary as you take one of the drinks from his hand, hooking your arm through his and tucking yourself against him. "Everything okay?"

It makes your heart flutter everytime, the way his entire face seems to change when he looks at you. "Hey, baby. Yeah. Everything's okay. Didn't mean to take so long. Were you worried?" He asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair.

The girls seem to deflate at how his complete attention is on you, how he instinctively shifts until you're pressed flushed against his side, two pieces of a whole. You have to force back the pride that threatens to glint in your eyes. "Not worried. I just was getting bored without you."

Neither of you really look over at the girls when they murmur something about catching up with their friends, but Jason manages a polite nod. Once they're gone, his grin widens, eyes teasing. "You were jealous. You called me honey."

You gasp in mock offense, yes, honey isn't the first term of endearment you jump to, but it's a perfectly valid word for him. "Jealous? Jealous that my tall, dark, sweet, and handsome boyfriend was getting hit on?"

He laughs, you think you might have swooned in a different time. "C'mon, pretty. Give me this. I saw you watching."

You can't help but smile at him and wonder, vaugley, if he knows you'd give him anything he asked of you. "Yeah, yeah. I was a little jealous. But, don't think I don't notice when you get jealous. Now, come dance with me. I like this song."

Now it's his turn to gasp, faux denial on his face. "I have never, not once in my life, been jealous."

You roll your eyes, playful and light as you pull him along to the dance floor. "Alright, lover boy. Because you're definitely not the reason my coworker wouldn't talk to me for a week."

He looks pleased at that. "He didn't?"

You raise yourself on your toes, kissing his cheek and leaving a smudge of lipstick. Neither of you move to wipe it off. "Mm. No. He didn't."

"Nice." He mumbles, unhooking your arms so he can hold your waist as you reach the dance floor. "I do get jealous too, though, sometimes."

Laughing, you find the beat of the music together and your world centers on him, just how his centers on you. "I know."

[bunnys-kisses]

show-off (price's version)

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, filth, dirty talk, filming, mirror sex, doggy style, age gap (20s/40s)

simon's version | johnny's version | kyle's version

what belonged to price, belonged to no one else. that was sort of the rule. but that didn't mean that price didn't share... images. while the rest of 141 couldn't touch what was his, they could touch themselves to photos and videos of price's "puppy".

the cute little failed cadet that price swept away to a charmed little life. he told the boys you did better as a girlfriend than a cadet.

"ain't she a beauty?" price beamed over drinks on evening, "prettiest fuckin' thing i'd ever seen. let's me do all kinds of dirty things to her. she's my baby girl." then laughed.

even in a photo the other members of the team were chubbed in their pants. you just had this charm to you that greatly turned them on, you beyond gorgeous.

it made them a little jealous, and price knew that.

simon, johnny and kyle all woke up on the second day of their time off, to a video file in the group chat. the file was dense in size. what they didn't expect was the following.

you were in front of the mirror with price holding his phone camera. in the reflection was your naked body knelt in front of the full length mirror. price was behind you, he was nude as well. his built. hairy body was such a contrast to you.

you looked so small compared to him. like he had plucked you from the heavens and bounced you on his cock. you held onto the carpet under you as you rolled your hips.

"that's it darlin'." he said, "that's my baby girl." his voice was low, but picked up by the microphone on the phone. there was a nice sheen of sweat of your body as you worked yourself on price's cock like a good girl.

"john, please." you whimpered as you tried to keep yourself up right. withering on his cock was he stayed perfectly still. he was letting you do all the work.

"look up at the mirror, love. show the boys what their missin'." price chuckled as he rubbed his cock inside of you. the stimulation made you moan. when he saw that you weren't looking, he used his free hand to yank on your face till you were looking right at the mirror, "bad girl." he said, "and i was just gloatin' about ya to the team. tellin' them how much of a good girl you were for me. listenin' and, waitin' with legs open."

you whimpered as you continued to jack hammer your hips against him. there was a fire burning in your belly as you fucked yourself on price's cock. you made him promise that this wasn't going to be sent to everyone on base. price told you it was just "for the boys".

which meant simon, johnny and kyle all had the luxury of seeing you fuck yourself on their captain's cock.

"see how she is, boys?" he asked the camera, his eyes on the screen to make sure that they could see the video in the clearest definition, "ya gotta get yourself a good girl. ya keep findin' them at clubs and bars. don't bother, find yourself one who's eager to please. make her a better wife than a solider." price laughed before he buried his face in your neck and gave you what you craved.

movement of his hips.

you were practically face first in the carpet as price started to fully take over. the camera panned away from the mirror down to the back of your head as he took control.

your noises were so sweet they bordered on pathetic. the sounds of your wet pussy filled the room and easily caught on video. price got right in there, watching your pussy take him too his root.

"see boys." he said, "just find yourself a good girl like that. maybe if you behave, she'll tell her friends all about the task force." he laughed, the idea of your sweet friends ending up with someone like simon was almost adorable.

you whimpered and he held your head into the carpet, your ass right in the air as he started to really work at your pussy. your ass bounced with each hard thrust.

"pretty little slut." price laughed as he fucked you into the carpet, "knows how to keep her man happy, and it ain't from good cookin'!" he erupted in laughter as he just ruined your cunt.

his pace became ragged, his thrusts more desperate than before. he sole focus was getting to finish inside of you. but you beat him to it, you clawed at the carpet and whined. your pussy clamped around price's thick cock. you orgasm spurred his on and he almost dropped his phone as he buried his entire length into you.

a few heavy pants and he slowed down. he managed to focus himself enough to film himself pulling out his bare cock out of your sweet pussy. watching the stretch as the entire thing came out.

he pointed the camera one last time and asked, "ready for another round?" followed by a airy laugh.

you responded by lifting your head and nodded. you looked painfully blissed out. but ready for more. and price was going to give you more.

the video ended and a few minutes later, price sent a message.

rise and shine, boys! the message said, early bird gets the worm! followed by an image of your cum filled pussy as you laid on the carpet.

the rest of task force 141 was not embarrassed to admit the video and photo were quickly saved for later usage. what would they say, price's girl was just fuckable.

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

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