#they had no business making him so pretty

[partiallysame]

Soap hits on Ghost's girl part 2

Part 2 to THIS

Word count: 550

The next time Soap sees you is when you come to the base to drop something off for Simon. Soap saw the text pop up on Ghost’s phone while he was in the shower post training. You were waiting for him at the main entrance. You were waiting all alone and Ghost was busy, Soap simply could not leave you waiting for another second, plus he needed to apologize for the last time you met. (Did Soap steal Ghost’s phone so when he got out of the shower he wouldn't know his pretty girlfriend was waiting for him? maybe).

You watched the Scotsman jog towards you, apologies falling from his mouth the second he was within earshot. “M’sorry. Didn’t mean any disrespect. You were jus sittin there all alone. Woulda thought Riley was gonna bring you with em’.” You said his name a few times trying to get him to stop but he was so caught up in trying to “make it right” that he didn’t hear you until you used his last name. 

“MacTavish” the command of your voice almost had him standing at attention. The call of his name had him sucking in his lips, rightfully shutting him up. You reached out to tap his arm, as if to say ‘relax’.

“S’not a big deal Johnny.” you laughed a little, “It was fun playing with you. Just hope Si didn’t give you too much shit about it.” (He did. Soap has been dodging literal punches for weeks now). Your phrasing made Soap smile. 

“You can play wit me anytime you’d like lass.” if he had long hair he’d be twirling it in his fingers right now.

“I’ll keep that in mind MacTavish.” The way you were looking up at him reminded him of why approached you in the bar the first time. Just looking at you and he was smitten. 

The sound of big heavy footsteps made Soap flinch. The second Ghost appeared, Soap bolted behind you. Ghost wouldn’t beat the shit out of him in front of you right? 

“You forgot this hun.” You handed a bag of stuff to Simon who was trying to step around you to get to Soap who was moving in the opposite direction of Ghost. Soap trying his hardest not to grab you to better use you as a shield. You stood still watching the two soldiers behave like children running around you. Ghost finally got his hands on Soap who called out your name, a last ditch effort at protection. 

“Let him go Si.”  His grip might’ve loosened but there was no way he was going to let go. 

“Don’t go taking his side lovie.” He may or may not have a knife behind his back ready to use right now. 

“He’s harmless Riley” You stated, arms crossed but definitely enjoying whatever this situation was.

“Ya. Riley. M’harmless” The grin could be heard in Soap’s voice as Ghost let go of him. 

“Give him back his phone John.” Ghost’s head snapped to Soap who was wide eyed. How’d you know he stole it? When you gave Simon a small peck signaling you were leaving, Soap began to run knowing once you were gone he was no longer safe from Simon Ghost Riley.

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜᴄʜ

ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ ➠ ꜱᴀɴ

pairing: frat boy! san x fem! reader feat. yungi

genre: frat au, smut

summary: san and his boys are more than grateful when you help them with their newest ‘feature film.’

w.c: 3k

warnings: they’re making porn okay, nasty mean dom! san, subby aloof! reader, san knowingly takes advantage of reader’s romantic feelings for him…. (bro’s the king of douchebags), manipulation/corruption, brief implied mxm bc i love fruity frat boys <3, praise/false praise, name calling/degradation, major voyeurism/exhibitionism kink, mind break ig?, double penetration in one hole, oral (giving), brief hair pulling, throat-fucking, tit fucking, facial, rough sex, bulge kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, gang bang !!, it’s all unprotected btw, multiple orgasms, creampies <33

a/n: this is so fucking insane you guys….like idk why frat aus have me in such a chokehold but here we are🧍🏻‍♀️also this is totally random (and essential) info but san’s signature frat party look would be a ‘don’t hate me it turns me on’ shirt and a backwards red cap hwjhw anyways happy reading~ and please lemme know if you liked it uwu

p.s: we’re at 6.5k followers HELLO???? that’s insane 🫣 thank you so very much!!!

song rec: i like the way you kiss me - artemas (✨ male manipulation: the song ✨)

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Smile for the camera, pretty girl,” San, the frat boy you’ve been in love with for ages, encouraged you from behind the lens of the camcorder he was holding, his smooth baritone voice like saccharine, artificial, yet sweet enough to keep you coming back for another taste. It was when you offered him a small, shy smile through the camera lense, despite the shamelessness of your current position, that he knew he had struck gold. 

San was filming one of the first of many future encounters you would be having on the expansive black leather couch inside their crowded frat den. You were stuffed to the absolute brim by two of his closest colleagues, Yunho and Mingi, who always refused to participate unless they were working together as a duo. 

“Stop looking at me like that, dude,” Mingi huffed up at Yunho from below the both of you, his shoulders and back routinely getting stuck to the couch with sweat. 

“Like what?” Yunho scoffed back, leaning further down onto your body to get closer to Mingi, essentially folding you in half, his hands closing around your ankles.

“Like you wanna kiss me. You’re gonna make me soft.” Mingi grimaced, pushing Yunho’s hands out of the way to hold onto your ankles instead, driving himself into you like a well oiled machine. He was throbbing nonstop, but there was absolutely no proof that it was because of his friend’s heavy cock rubbing along his inside the cunt they were sharing. 

You could feel Yunho’s breath hit your shoulder when he laughed. “Skill issue,” Yunho simply replied, delighted when Mingi bucked up into you even harder, encouraging him to do the same. 

Clearly, there was something vaguely homoerotic going on there, but it wasn’t San’s business, and he definitely had better things to focus on — you, his newest pupil. He watched you with dollar signs in his bright brown eyes and the taste of cheap vodka on his tongue, unable to keep himself from licking repeatedly at his chapped lips, especially now that the innocent classmate he had recently taken a liking to had no problem taking two cocks at once inside her puffy, used cunt, while he, his bros, and his trusty camcorder had a front row seat to her mutually beneficial destruction.  

“Look at you, so flexible…Are you sure you haven’t done this before, Y/N?” San teased, lowering the camera down until his sharp feline eyes were visible.

“N-no, I swear!” you squeaked out, the growing embarrassment you felt only spurring all of this newfound pleasure you were drunk on. “Just wanna, nnngh–be good for you…”

“Oh, that’s right. Silly me. You’re being a very good girl right now, baby, Don’t worry.” San couldn’t help but smile at the way you seemed to melt in front of him. It was just too easy. He glanced down at the camera, zooming in and capturing the moment his friends filled you up with their hot loads, the bliss evident on your fucked-out face. “That’s it, baby. Are you happy you stuck around here with us instead of going back to your dorm to do homework? Taking cock is much more fun, isn’t it, beautiful?” 

“So much more fun,” you sighed out, your pupils blown out just from looking at his devastatingly handsome face. It was then that you pouted. You were only here because you were in love with San, and yet, it wasn’t even his dick inside you. It wasn’t fair. “But, I’d have even more fun with you, Sannie~” 

“Is that so…?” San offered a brief shit-eating smirk to one of his boys nearby, reaching down to grab at himself through his sweatpants, like he was weighing it. “It’s right here, baby. Why don’t you show us what that pretty mouth can do?” 

Both Mingi and Yunho slowed down their thrusts, but didn’t completely pull out, choosing to leisurely fuck their cum back into you, as they fought to catch their breath.

“What a loser, cumming first like that,” Mingi insulted Yunho, licking at the saliva left on his lips. 

“Your mom doesn’t have a problem with it,” Yunho chided back, reaching down past your body to smack his hand into the side of Mingi’s ass. 

“Goddamn it, you guys, I’m gonna have to edit that gay shit out.” San brought a hand up to scratch at his head in frustration. “You know what, both of you, get out of my shot and sword fight somewhere else. I’m not doing this right now,” San grumbled, shooing the two panting men away from the couch they had just made a mess on. 

“Bro acts like we don’t know about his late night tutoring sessions with Wooyoung,” Yunho whispered to Mingi, trying to stifle his laughter. 

Mingi almost choked on his breath. “Don’t forget, Yeosang. San doesn’t even take physics anymore, either. Yet, he still visits that nerd every Friday like clockwork.” 

“Dude, aren’t they roommates?” Yunho cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, still using a hushed tone, “Do you think they run a train on–”

“Hey! Don’t make me haze the two of you again just for fun…” San warned from the center of the room, glaring daggers at the two men who went quiet almost immediately. His annoyance abruptly melted away once you gingerly reached up to pull his sweatpants down until the frat emblem that was stitched into the thigh pocket was no longer visible. It was when San smacked his heavy length down onto your face, that you let out a pornstar worthy moan. Cha-ching. “Oh, you like that? Hm? Want my cock?”   

“Mm-hmm…” San’s cock slapped down onto your face a second time. You quickly squeezed your thighs together to keep yourself from cumming right then and there, biting back a moan all the while. You wondered if it was obvious how truly desperate you were for the man standing above. Fuck it. You were already here, so you might as well get what you came for. “Please, give it to me, Sannie, f-fuck my mouth.” 

San could not believe his luck. His loyal fanbase would absolutely have a field day with this as soon as he uploaded it. He could already see the cash flowing in, and it made him rock hard. He sighed happily to himself, running his fingers through your hair, carefully tucking a few strands behind your ear. “It’s really true what they say…the shy ones are always the most slutty.”  

*“I’m not a slut, I just–” you cut yourself off, not wanting to confess to San right before you were about to suck him off in front of his fraternity and whichever degenerate that would be watching it back later on. You pouted again, looking up at him with wide, sparkly eyes. “I want to be useful to you, like a doll~”  

“Did you hear that, everyone? Y/N here is a real life doll. Let’s treat her as such,” San reminded his friends and housemates who couldn’t help but hover around the couch, a few of them sharing knowing smiles with one another. 

Your heart began to thump away inside your chest, unable to believe that your long-time crush was giving you so much of his attention and affection. It was like a dream come true. As soon as your lips parted to take in a shaky breath, San tightened his grip around your hair, yanking you forward and stuffing your mouth full of cock. “Mmnnf…!” 

Clutching the camera with one hand and the makeshift ponytail he created near the back of your head, San began thrusting sloppily into your open mouth, groaning at the slick sensation of your throat routinely closing around his moving cockhead. “Come on, doll, let me in, yeah? So Sannie can fuck your throat raw.” 

San wasn’t lying. With each wet, rough thrust, he got closer and closer to doing what he promised you. “Mmmn…nnn…” You couldn’t tell if the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes were the result of San’s dizzying performance or the burning arousal you felt stirring inside your core simply from being watched by a room full of men you didn’t know. 

“Aww, crying already, princess? I’ll give you something to really cry about when I’m breeding that pretty cunt of yours,” San chuckled darkly, his strong hips snapping relentlessly, his pace only beginning to falter once he saw escaping drool mixed with his pre-cum dripping down past your chin and down in between your tits. You were becoming a mess. It was going to make the frat leader bust any second. The borderline obsessive look you had inside your teary eyes didn’t help either. “Fuck, oh god– Somebody take the goddamn camera!” 

The youngest of the group fumbled to grab the camera, using his jacket sleeve to rub the fingerprints off of the lens, before lifting it up, capturing the exact moment San pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and slid his cock along in between your glistening tits. 

San turned to face the camera for a second, dimples flashing, squishing your tits in between his thick fingers as he fucked them. “See, you guys? This is how you use a doll to her maximum potential,” he explained as though he were a professor on campus. “Just look at her face. She loves it.” 

Instead of trying to focus on the camera, you gazed directly up at him, your cheeks warm to the touch, still love-struck, even when San’s load landed all over your face. You simply licked away what had landed on your lips, sucking the rest off the frat leader’s fingers once he so lovingly fed it to you. 

San nodded his head in approval, patting yours in an effort to reward you for your hard work. “That’s a good girl…” He tilted his head to the side. “Let’s see what else our pretty doll can do. Sound good?” 

“Really good,” you chimed, licking at your swollen lips, savoring San’s essence. 

Wedding bells were ringing in the distance. You would do anything for San, and that meant letting him treat you like a sex doll and fuck you in any position he saw fit for the next hour. By the time your knees gave out from cumming for the nth time, San had you in a full nelson in the middle of the couch, positioned behind you with his arms locked around your upper half, making sure your used, feverish body was on complete display. 

“Sannie…gonna…cum…again,” you breathed out in between a few heavy moans, your head feeling so heavy that you just let it hang for a second. 

San repositioned himself so that he could clutch your chin, tilting it upwards. His free hand snaked around your waist, laying his palm flat on your tummy, suddenly driving his cock up into you so hard, you couldn’t even speak if you wanted to. “Hey, be a good slut and let them see what you look like when you’re cumming your brains out.” 

You simply looked up at the blurry camera past your teary lashes, letting out a choked gasp once you barreled over the edge of ecstasy. You didn’t have a chance to recover from the overwhelming pleasure, especially not when San pressed his hand down firmly onto the bulge his cock was routinely making inside your stomach. “P-please..! Sannie..!” 

You want another load? Fuck, baby.” Groaning, San took a second to lick one of the tears that was rolling along your cheek before it dropped, his hips slamming against yours so quick, you were already developing bruises, ones that would accompany the bright red love bites scattered across your slick skin. He pressed his lips directly to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “You know, seeing you in class and on campus, I never would’ve pegged you as a cumslut, but everyone enjoys a good surprise every now and then…don’t they?”

“Yes–yes, yes, yes,” you chanted back, too cockdrunk to even fully process what San was saying, just focused on how full you felt, and how you needed more. 

“Good, because I got a surprise for you too.” Grunting loudly, San lowered his hips and slammed them up into you one last time, holding your trembling body still, painting your pulsing walls white. “Now, say ‘thank you, Sannie.’”

“Thank you, Sannie.” You leaned your head back to nuzzle the side of his cheek, placing your hands over his, feeling him rubbing your lower stomach in small circles, his cock still fully sheathed inside you. 

“Anytime, sugar.” San gave your hair a few strokes as a reward, before pulling out and climbing off of the couch. He took the camera back from the new guy and snapped his fingers at a few of the bricked up housemates standing nearby, pointing in your direction. “Now, show me what you’re really made of.” San gave you a charming, dimpled smile. “Make me proud, okay?” 

As a few half naked strangers surrounded you on all sides of the couch, some of them reaching out to grope your warm body, you returned San’s smile, your heart skipping a beat or two. “I’ll give it my best just for you~” 

Throughout the night, San, alongside his fraternity, conditioned you with care, meticulously molded you into a star, one they eagerly passed around, easily making your tape one of the longest in their exclusive film collection. It wasn’t difficult, by any means. You were, of course, the perfect specimen: passive, pliant, and poisoned by the oxytocin that turned your brain into mush.

Even when you were being used by more men than you could count, you couldn’t keep your attention off of Sannie, his handsome face only growing blurry when someone would make you gag on their cock, as you didn’t have the most experience with men of their size. You wanted San to yourself again, desperately wishing you could reach out for him instead of another stranger’s twitching erection — but you endured it all, falling further into the rabbit hole of pleasure for the sake of your whirlwind infatuation. 

Everyone in the frat house deeply appreciated your dedication to their amateur film, especially San, who, by the end of it, secured the perfect spot to capture the finality of your desecration. Two of his older friends had just finished inside you, their spent cocks slipping out of your used hole and revealing the beautiful mess they left.

Crouched down in front of the couch, San reached out past the camcorder to spread your puffy lips apart, each and every load you took over the past hour now slowly spilling out onto his veined hand. “Look at this pretty cunt, you guys…so full of cum, it won’t stop coming out…” He panned up to your face with the camera, giving you a wicked smile from behind it. “You’ll be pregnant in no time, won’t you, doll? With whose baby, I wonder…”

After all that, you somehow managed to act shy, covering your flushed face, giving San heart eyes past your trembling fingers. “Hopefully yours…” 

“Oh, princess.” San gently rubbed his fingers over your reddened cunt and clit, cum still dribbling out of you all the while. “I don’t think you realize how cute you’re being right now~ Almost like you didn’t just slut yourself out for everyone to see, huh? Mm, do you feel cute, Y/N?” San asked in a babying tone, as he slowly stood up and towered over you. 

“You make me feel cute…” You nuzzled your cheek into the palm of San’s warm hand once he offered it to you, hoping you secured a spot inside his heart after all the hard work you put in. “I would keep going for you if I could still feel my legs.” 

“Aww, there’s always next time, isn’t there?” he suggested slyly, rubbing away some leftover cum from your cheek before caressing the side of your face. “Do you have anything to say to our loyal fanbase, baby?” 

“I love cock, especially yours, Sannie,” you slurred lovingly up at San, through the camera lens, licking your lips, mouth watering at the thought of being invited again to film another movie. “So give me a call, okay?” 

“Oh, I will, believe me.” A smug laugh erupted from San’s puffed-out chest, as he aimed the camera at his pretty boy face for a second to announce, “We’ve officially turned another good girl into a filthy cumslut. If you’d like to watch the transformation happen in real time, feel free to stop by our frat. For extra, we’ll let you have a go.” And with that, he shut the camcorder off and pushed it into the youngest member’s chest, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Fuck it, we might even give you a turn.” 

The freshman choked on his spit. “R-really?” 

“I’m feeling nice today.” San sighed, running his fingers through his gelled up hair to fix it. When the young man just stood there drooling, the frat leader grimaced. “Upload this to all our sites ASAP, and don’t forget about our twitter page this time,” he demanded, rolling his eyes when he saw the cum stains the embarrassed student left behind on his pants. “And, for fuck’s sake, will you take care of that?” 

As another member brought a can of beer over to San, the frat leader took it and cracked it open. “Can you believe that guy? He’s been here for, what, a month now? And he’s still creaming his pants like a virgin? Unbelievable.”

As you gingerly put your clothes back on, you watched San move around the frat to dab up his friends and clink their beer cans together in celebration of another successful shoot. You couldn’t help but let out a long, lovesick sigh. He would be yours one day. Until then, you would take what you could get, and of course, become a star. 

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @crazyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[bi-writes]

hi! i was thinking if you could write an older!boyfriend simon x reader BUT reader is john price's daughter so is kinda of a forbidden and secret relationship !!!! they've been dating for a long time now until john finds out !!!!!

18+

"how is she?"

"doing well, john. but you don't have to worry about her anymore, you know that right? she's not yours to worry about."

"she is mine. i know she's not..." john huffs. "she may not be blood, but she's mine, yeah? so when i ask 'ow she is, you tell me, kate. can we agree on that?"

"sure, john. she's in georgia. her russian got very good. if you want to know my honest opinion, i think she'll be one of my best."

"well...i wouldn't stand for anythin' less."

"john?"

that voice is music to him. he turns, taking his hat off, and he laughs, genuinely, when he sees you. his whole face lights up, and you make your way to him. it's been months since you've seen him in person--even though he makes you send him constant updates about what you're doing and where you are, you find yourself missing this man and the warmth he gives off whenever you are in his proximity.

he's always looked at you so kindly. he's always taken care of you. whenever you pick up the phone, he's always answered.

"'ello, bug."

he crushes you in a warm hug. he puts a hand on the back of your neck and holds you to his chest, and the tension in his shoulders deflates now that he has you with him.

"hi, john. miss me?"

"well...you were the only one with sense in my house."

"you live alone, john."

"aye."

he pours you a hot cup of tea before he makes you tell him all about your new posting. most of it is classified, and you tell him that, but his face lights up when you talk about the new skills you're learning and all the opportunities that kate is giving you. his face scrunches a little when you talk about the more dangerous ops, but john never has the same regard for his own life.

the mess hall gets busy once dinner time rolls around. his men were not expecting you, and that much is clear when they see their captain even enjoying a meal in public and not secluded in his office. you smile at his sergeants, but when your gaze lingers a little longer on the doors, johnny just nudges you with his elbow.

"miss the big guy?"

"what? no."

"he had a long night last night," he wiggles his eyebrows at gaz, who just laughs a little. "i might need to try the whole brooding, scary look LT has got on. attracts the most bonnie things, fuckin' christ."

your plate flies when you stab at your food too hard. the cutlery clatters as it hits the floor, and you jump a little, swallowing.

"are you alright, bug?"

"huh? yeah, oh...yeah, just...fucking clumsy. i...i'm gonna...find the toilet."

the blood is rushing in your ears as you make your way out. you're vibrating, hot inside, and you feel him before you see him, even in your anger.

when he pulls you into the shadow of a nearby supply closet, you swipe the blade out of your boot and hold it up against his throat. even through the mask, the blade bites, and he hisses as you hold him up against the wall there.

"don't fucking touch me," you snarl, and ghost's eyes are bright and alive as he holds his hands up defensively.

"wot--"

"and don't what me," you snap. "actually, don't fucking talk at all, you cheating, manipulative, british piece of shit--"

"look so pretty," he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. "did you do y'r hair, baby?"

"i will kill you."

"'s olright. last thing i see'll be you."

"i'm not fucking kidding, simon!"

he bends a little, tilting his head, and you breathe out through your nose as he leans his forehead against yours.

"reckon ya spoke t'johnny."

you scoff. "told me all about your winnings last night, lieutenant."

"was no winnings, love, don't be so fuckin' naïve." simon swipes at the handle of the blade, curling his gloved fingers around your wrist and forcing it away from him. "y'r just mad cause y'r cunt missed me."

"don't flatter yourself, asshole."

"so if i pull your knickers down right now, y'won't be drippin', swee'eart?"

"that's irrelevant."

"'s not. turn around and bend over."

simon's sorry, so he eats your pussy from behind. he gets down on his knees, and the crack of them satisfies you immensely, up until you feel his mouth between your cheeks, tongue slicking up your folds. you brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the concrete as he puts two gloved hands against your ass and spreads you wide to fit himself nicely there. he hums, groans, makes you whine as he slurps obscenely into your cunt, laving at the drip of you until the taste of you floods his mouth.

"simon..." you whimper. "tell me i-it's not true."

he presses a wet kiss to your ass, biting it firm.

"'s not true, love. promise."

"fuck your promises," you sniffle. "you're a professional liar."

"tha' 'ow it's gonna be, innit? not gonna trust me? believe me?"

you rest your forehead against the cool wall, and the shadow of him envelopes you when he stands. he grunts a little as he gets to his feet. his big hands squeeze at the curve of your waist, and you close your eyes when you feel his breath against your neck.

"i'm sorry, simon."

"for wot?"

"i just...i like you so much. so much."

"come 'ere," he murmurs in your ear. he pulls your hips back, pressing your ass against his pelvis, and you dig your nails into the wall when you hear his belt buckle and zipper. "my pretty girl. my pretty, pretty girl."

"i missed you s-so much, simon."

"i know, love. quiet now. someone'll hear."

it's not the worst place you've fucked. you've snuck quickies in the rec room. behind the mess hall. met up in filthy gas station toilets, fallen into the backseat of a car in the parking lot of numerous military bases. even once, you deigned to suck his dick in his office, and you had to hide behind his couch when john came in to ask about an op.

john had a rule. his men were off-limits. he should've thought about that before he hired a man straight out of your wet dreams for his stupid fucking task force.

you're weak. and simon is a man.

inevitable.

you're a mile into pound-town when someone interrupts. simon is cock-deep inside of you, pelvis up against your ass, one hand braced around your throat and the other squeezing your ass. your eyes are rolled back into your head, and there's drooling coming out of your mouth. it's hot, disgusting, filthy to let him have you like this, but it's been weeks since you've seen him, and the phone calls aren't enough.

you love talking to him. you love when he talks to you. he'll never be annoying to you, you'll never get tired of him, but the distances hurts. you want simon to be all around you--inside of you, against you, his voice in your ear and his mouth against yours and his warmth your only sheet, but you can't bring yourself to do more than this.

you're too afraid of disappointing people. you're too scared of simon's rejection. if your relationship is nothing but fun, nothing but sex, you can pretend it isn't real, but you're just lying to yourself now.

you babble, and it sounds like love, but then the hallway light blinds you, and familiar blue eyes nearly kill you.

"jesus christ!"

simon puts his body in front of yours to cover you, using a harsh boot to kick the door closed. you squeak, covering your face with your hands, and you groan audibly as simon pants against your back.

"fuck--" you gasp. "oh...fuck, fuck, fuck!"

simon buries his face into the crook of your neck, laughing a little.

"bloody hell," he breathes. "reckon we're fucked, huh, love?"

"it's not funny, simon! we're in so much trouble!"

"well..." he squeezes your throat gently, tilting your head back. "could still finish. no sense in pretendin' now."

"you are not going to come when he's probably waiting for us outside."

"i'm balls deep in my favorite girl," simon mutters. "could come just fine. just say the word."

"you're disgusting."

"mmm..." simon squeezes your hips. "keep talkin'. i like when y'talk t'me like tha'."

"fucking asshole."

"yeah...yeah."

"you stupid, immature, unhinged pain in my ass--"

"fuck."

well.

you're definitely never leaving this room.

[okwonyo]

BEAUTIFUL SCENE 𓈒𓈒 ❪ 日语 ❫

TESTI ────── 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍.

enhypen who has a crush on fem!rea 12OO fluff non-idol au 但 skinship kissing ❛ REBLOGS&CLICK ❜

지아 ⠀⦂⠀ sruchocopop helped me for this 🍀 it was supposed to be short but oh well ..

HEESEUNG

his body yearns to be close to you— to touch, to feel you. he wants to know how the feeling on his fingers brushing your soft skin feels. therefore, he finds any excuse to do so.

“you have food all over your face,” he chuckles. he noticed it a few minutes ago, as soon as the tiniest crumbs of your bread fell next to your mouth. of course, he stopped eating a while ago, too busy admiring your every move.

“wha’ d’ya say?” you mutter, cheeks round and full of the big bite you took a seconds before. your eyes are glistening with wonder, pure curiosity and wonder— clueless of how cute you are looking at the moment.

his heart beats faster as he reaches for the side of your mouth with his thumb, his body moves completely on his own. he tries to not melt under your gaze, wiping the cream off the corner of your lips, caressing your lips, “here you go.”

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAY

always so gentle with you. his tone is always soft. he smiles gentle, pearly whites showing perfectly as he talks to you. his inner nature always shows off whenever you are with him. his body warms up with chivalry.

your way often crosses the college’s hallways. he is quick to greet you with this lovely smile of his. beyond charming and beautiful.

today, he meets you again. his attention is first one your face, as always, then he peeks at the huge cardboard box in your hands. he doesn’t think before speaking, before moving towards you and telling you, “let me take this for you.”

he knows it already, what are your next words. he starts walking before you can even say, “you don’t have—”

“please, let me do this for you,” he immediately cuts you. the world stops, for you especially, well to hang on lips to say anything.

JAKE

he doesn’t realize it. it is as natural as breathing to him, as if being there—so close to you— is his birth right. you are his only compass, the star that guides him up in the sky.

his breath catches when you respond to him calling your name by turning around. the smile that grows on your face is immediately mirrored by him, “are you following me around?”

he jogs towards you, unable to keep his giggles for himself. “huh?” is the first thing he tells you, registering your question after a minute of staring at your smiley face.

“you are always somewhere close to me,” you chuckle— you don’t seem bothered by that fact. you look more pleased than not and that makes him pleased as well.

he shrugs, immediately following you like a puppy when you start walking to your class. he bumps his shoulder into yours gently, “maybe it’s destiny.”

SUNGHOON

he isn’t really the type to do much just yet. although, he had a crush on you since the day his gaze rested on you, since the first time he heard your laugh. he can’t keep you out of his mind nor his eyes away from you.

he knows it. that as soon as he catches a glimpse of you, it would be impossible for him to look away so soon. not until someone tells him that he looks like a creep— and even then, he wouldn’t be so sure.

he bites his lower lip as he observes you from afar. you look beyond mesmerizing, like everything you do, the simple way in which you sit is attractive. he feels his body being pulled closer by a force he can’t name.

he doesn’t move however. he only tries to not get into a spiral when you bite your pen. he has never seen someone so effortlessly pretty. you seem to think hard, harder than a pretty girl like you should and he wants remedy to that.

his heart skips a beat when your eyes shoot up— immediately looking deep into his. his chest heaves while you hold eye contact. your smirk before looking down on your notes makes him groan. you are teasing him too much.

SUNOO

in his friendly nature, he befriends the girl he finds so gorgeous. he becomes so close to you that he spends his days with you by his side.

he doesn’t think he has hidden his crush on you ever. internally, he hopes that it becomes something more and he never fails to show it. it is you who is oblivious.

he tries, he really does, to make you understand that he wants more than just ‘silly friends’ date’— but it seems that your head is too thick to realize it. he decides to use words, loud and clear: “what do you think of us?”

you seem confused, “us?” if it wasn’t for how cute you look with the small blush coloring your cheeks, he would facepalm.

JUNGWON

he knows you like him too. he just doesn’t understand why you are so sure he doesn’t see you like that. he decides to emphasize, “you and me, us, love!”

this man is always so sweet to you. always showering you in nice words and teasing you a little bit to get a reaction out of you.

“did you try something new with your hair?” he questions you— he is always the first to notice when you try something remotely new. even as little as putting a ribbon in your hair.

a flush creeps across your cheeks, “uh, yeah,” you respond. your voice is tiny and cute— your shyness is seen all over the surface of your face.

“don’t get shy,” he chuckles. he finds it endearing, how easily it is to make you shy. you are not even aware of the effect it has on him, “i didn’t even tell you how beautiful you are yet, doll.”

he laughs when you playfully beat his chest with your fist.

RIKI

he has never been the type to be so happy about such simple things. but he admits that he has been on cloud nine since he successfully got your number.

“i’m doing good,” pops up, accompanied by the cutest emoji. “what about you?” he reads on his phone’s screen. your contact name above the text he just received makes his body vibrate with pure joy and enthusiasm.

he falls on his bed, thinking about an answer to something as simple as this. “i’m doing good,” he types out first. “because,” his fingers tap on the keyboard. “i’m talking to you.”

he immediately puts his phone away. he does everything in his power to think about anything else but your answer— and he fails. he reaches for his phone as soon as he hears a notification.

“haha, you are too cute,” your text says, a kissy face is added at the end. the boy smiles, giggles even. his cheeks hurt from smiling too much and he realizes that he looks stupid, but he doesn’t care. you really manage to make him giddy though the phone.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Haechan x f!idol!reader

summary: what better way to promote your new music than to do an interview with your boyfriend?! Does he know that? No!

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You were grinning widely as you sat in the pink chair. You bowed to the camera introducing yourself with an excited smile, "Hi everybody! I'm so excited to be here today. The staff and I have planned a bit of a prank today."

Your friendship with Haechan had started when you debuted. Haechan was one of the first idols around your age that you felt comfortable with. He was funny, nice, and was a good friend. He gave you a lot of advice on how to handle the long days, how to speak up with your company, and how to take care of yourself when it all got to be too much. And perhaps... taking care of yourself meant indulging in your friendship with Haechan, in private and in public.

The fans had surprisingly been pretty cool about both of you being close. It wasn't very often that fans got to see two idols from different companies have a genuine friendship. They liked seeing the two of you play around backstage, the random mention of each other in YouTube vlogs or lives, and the very few and far between posts you shared of each other.

When the edits evolved from 8 whole minutes of the two of you being the best of friends to the both of you being secretly in love for 11 minutes, maybe, just maybe, you both began to see each other in a new way. Maybe you guys went on a date to test the waters and maybe that date meant that the two of you became something more and maybe this video would be one of the first times you both directly acknowledged your romantic relationship. Well, beyond standard wordy posts that your companies put out to disclose your relationship.

You smile at the camera, "today I will be pranking my boyfriend Haechan. He thinks he's doing this interview with someone else and has no clue its me!"

Finally, on the other side of the wall, enters the set and sits himself in the blue chair, "Hello, I am Haechan from NCT. Today I will be using the screen name Sunshine and I am excited to figure out my partner is. I think I'll figure it out very easily."

On your side of the wall you, cup a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle, "I'm going to be so annoying!"

"Hey," you type, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.

"Oh, it's starting!" you hear Haechan exclaim. You phone vibrates with a message that reads, 'hey.'

"Geez, he's really boring isn't he? Let's make this more exciting!" You laugh, typing back something you don't think you'd ever tell your boyfriend to his face, "wow, I know this is a handsome man I'm talking to. Tell me, are you handsome?"

Haechan flushes in front of the pink wall with his jaw dropped in shock, "w-what?!"

You calm down a bit, not being as bold with your flirtation so that the both of you could progress the conversation. You both make small talk, talking about base level interests. Then comes the home screen exchange. You'd been preparing for this!

Since no one ever really saw your homescreens, you and Haechan had decided to have cute matching backgrounds, a cute couples selfie you'd taken together. What he didn't know, and you didn't tell him because he was so whiny, was that you had changed it. So he sent you an blurred version of his usual background, a picture of the two of you with you biting his cheek and his eyes screwed shut laughing. You knew the picture well, not only because you lived it but also because you had the picture that followed as your own background before you changed it for this interview.

Haechan's phone dropped from his hands, eyes blown wide in shock again. The staff were busy laughing behind the camera while you sat with a smug smile, listening for his reaction. "Is this real? Is this actually your background?" You read the message that had been sent to you.

"Why wouldn't it be?" You message him back.

Haechan doesn't even look at his phone again, he locks his screen and sets it on his thigh. He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, "how do you turn someone down nicely?"

You bite your lip when you hear that. Your plan had worked, your precious Haechan was flushed and embarrassed. You type back, "do you know NCT Haechan? He's so talented and funny. I'm a big fan, are you?"

"Yeah, it couldn't be more obvious," Haechan grumbles, staring at the homescreen. He can't look at any of the apps or notifications because he's staring at his own face! A collage of pictures of him-- only him. Pictures of him from his debut to pictures of him from his last performance.

Maybe he was speaking to some kind of comedian, it was some kind of joke that happened to revolve around him. He'd watched some of these interviews before and it never worked out that one person knew who they were texting and the other didn't. This had to be some kind of strange coincidence.

He somehow expertly turned the conversation around, evading your question and changed the conversation into something more lighthearted. Then comes the first Would You Rather. The question: would you rather make a burping sound while farting or farting sound while burping?

You take a second to think, considering the question then finally send your answer, "I think I'd rather make a farting sound while burping."

"Really?" Haechan replies, "why is that? I mean I agree, but I'm curious to hear your reasoning?"

"Tell me yours first," you reply.

"Well mostly I don't want to feel the rumbling feeling of a burp in my butt," Haechan types out.

"He's so gross," you mutter as you read the screen, "he's such a guy." And yet you type out a message, "wow, that's so manly of you.."

Haechan runs his hand through his hair, "how would someone read that and find it attractive?"

Again, he doesn't address your flirting. He maneuvers around it, he doesn't want to be the guy that hurts yours or anyone's feelings, even a stranger's.

By the time the both of you get to the end of the interview having just sent the most recent pictures in your camera roll to each other, Haechan feels a horrible ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. You had sent him a picture of a flower from some bush outside and he had sent you a picture of the products that had been used on his face before the interview. (He'd sent the picture to you.) How is he going to handle this?!

He looks up from yet another flirty message with a look of unease, "you guys don't do these things with crazy fans right?"

The staff reassure him that no, they absolutely would not ever do anything to put him or anyone else in harm's way. His partner is just a silly person, a jokester.

You, on the other hand, are a ball of excitement to reveal yourself. The time comes to meet your partner, though you already know yours. You prop yourself on the wall, one hand outstretched against the wall and the other on your hip.

Haechan rounds the corner and sees you. You flip your hair, winking at him with a, "hey, handsome."

He falls to his knees, hand clutched over his heart while he lets out a sigh of relief and a loud exaggerated whine, "how could my own lover do this to me?!"

It takes both you and the staff to calm Haechan down, but you eventually get him to sit in the chair of the high top table and get the frown off his face. He's still pouty of course, and he lets you know so, "how could you do this to me?"

"With the help of my managers, your managers, the production here at Kode... duh," you answer, squeezing his knee beneath the table reassuringly.

"You're so funny," he deadpans, "but seriously, I was so stressed that I was going to have to see a real life crazy person and turn them down while maintaining my safety. Thank goodness it was a real life crazy person I already knew."

You shove his shoulder with a laugh, "so you had no clue who it was?"

"Absolutely no clue," Haechan confirms, "I did think that this was going to be easy at first, but you came on so strong that I had to mostly focus on getting us to have a normal, not flirty conversation. Did you have fun stressing me out, my menace?"

"The best time ever," you nod with a proud smile.

Haechan lets out a breathy laugh, more of a soft exhale of air as he pulls your hand up and pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, "I'm never doing an interview with you ever again."

"You say that now, but you're my biggest fan. Don't you want me to be successful? How can I be successful if even my handsome, sunbaenim boyfriend won't help me?" You tease, looking at him with a look all too innocent to be real.

"Oh right. Please make sure to check out my girlfriend's first solo debut. The music is amazing, her voice sounds like angels singing, the music videos are award winning, the outfits are out of this world and there is nothing like it in all the world. Please support her... or I will have to," Haechan states with a fake smile while looking right into the lens of the camera, letting his smile drop into a pleading face for the ending.

"Yes, please make sure to check out my solo! I appreciate it," you smile at the camera, bowing to show your gratitude. While you fulfill your promoting duties you miss the adoring look on Haechan's face. The way his eyes soften and he looks at you with a calm, serene look of love.

You look at him with a soft smile, "can you forgive me for my prank?"

He tugs you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, "I can make an exception if you promise this will be the last time you prank me."

"Well, of course," you answer too quickly. A lie, of course.

The conversation between you dwindles down and the two of you take your selfie. You smile brightly at the camera with your head tucked beneath Haechan's chin, Haechan smiles sweetly at the camera with his usual close-lipped smile. It's the first selfie as a romantic couple that anyone will see of the two of you and it makes you slightly nervous, but more than anything you're excited for people to see just a sliver of the dynamic you and Haechan share, the love that's there.

"Thank you to the team at Kode for having us and thank you to the fans in advance for all the love and support. I hope you love it," you smile at the cameras.

The video ends with the screen fading to black, but if fans listen closely, they can hear Haechan reassuring you, "everyone is going to love it, honey. How could they not love anything you do?"

[steddieas-shegoes]

i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you

for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse

rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve

🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒

Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.

Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.

But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.

Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.

He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.

Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.

Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.

He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.

It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”

Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.

“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.

“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.

Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.

“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”

“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”

“Or lonely.”

The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.

Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.

“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”

“Like who?” Steve swallows.

“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.

Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.

“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you dating someone?”

Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”

“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”

Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.

“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.

It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.

“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.

When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.

“How long are you in town?”

“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”

Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”

“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”

“Dustin talks about me?”

“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.

He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.

“Not on purpose.”

Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.

“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”

“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.

“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.

“First dessert.”

“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.

“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”

An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.

This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.

“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.

“Sure. Dinner.”

Time starts again.

[yoongelectric]

Drunk in love — LN4

~ believe when i say that you’ll know once you taste it

• part 1

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: the night where you and lando just wanted to forget about each other but ended up getting closer than ever

genre: smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: curse words, jealousy, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex, breeding kink

notes: english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry ig there’s any mistakes. i might have gotten a little excited with the lenght of this fic, part 2 will be shorter

The music plays loudly within the walls of your room as you and your best friend get ready for the night. After hours and hours of trying to convince you, Olivia had finally made it, not that you weren't a party girl, in fact you adored it, the feeling of being drunk, the people, the dancing, the music, flirting with strangers, you used to spend the whole week looking forward to go to your favorite club but for months now all those good times have lost all meaning when all you can see is your best friend going from girl to girl every weekend without any type of remorse. And for months you’ve been trying to do the same thing to stop thinking about him, only achieving the opposite.

You can’t blame those girls, in fact, you understand them perfectly, not just because Lando is rich and famous, that's the least important thing really, but in any crowd he's always the first man you see, he's handsome, attractive, even magnetic, the kind of man no girl would ever say no to, and you were painfully aware of that, because of course, you were one of those girls who could never say no to him.

That's what bothers you the most, because no matter how many dates you go on, how many strangers you flirt or sleep with, how much time you go without seeing him or speaking to him, you always notice how they are not him, how they don't have his laugh, his eyes, his charisma, his charm, his way of hugging you, his way of making you forget everything and everyone, no matter how good they are in bed, none of them can make you feel the warmth that you feel when he simply holds your hand or rests his hand on your waist to help you walk through a room full of people, and it's already getting tiring to hope that at some point that's going to change.

While you finish applying the sluttiest red lipstick you have, and check that you are not missing anything in your purse, you look at your outfit in the mirror, a little black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, actually, if you are not careful you can flash anyone at any moment, you feel attractive, you know you look pretty, but you also know that neither this dress, nor the makeup you spent so much time on, nor your perfect hair will be enough for Lando to look at you the way you want.

Olivia seems to notice the sad expression on your face, "y/n don't make that face, if Lando is stupid enough to not make a move on you then he doesn't deserve you to spend another second thinking about him" she says handing me a shot of vodka that I swallow without hesitation

“Do you think I'm in love with him because I want to, Olivia? If it was up to me I would only see him as the friend he sees in me, that's what he wants, but it seems I can't.”

“if you want to believe that he sees you only as a friend then go on, i think he’s just a pussy” Olivia shouts from the door as I grab my keys and follow her.

-

Lando stared at his glass of whiskey, lost in thought, looking at the time on his watch from time to time thinking about when you would arrive, he was dying to see you, he didn't know if he was imagining it but he had this feeling that you’d been avoiding him all week, you didn't answer his messages, and if he called you, you quickly ended the conversation saying that you were busy, you had always been very bad at lying, who can be busy on a Saturday morning? He knew that his doubts would be solved at any moment and oh how he wished it was just his head fucking with him.

In the distance he saw a girl who he could have sworn was you, but after looking at her for a few seconds he slapped himself internally for having mistaken you for someone else, how could you be that girl? She doesn't have your grace, nor the light that seems to follow you everywhere making you look untouchable, the people around her don't turn around automatically and he doesn't feel that comfort in his heart when looking at her, but what's the point anyway? None of them make him feel anything like that, none of them are like you and he knows it.

He knows that you are the girl for him, he has known it since he won his first race and as soon as he crossed the finish line the first thing he thought was if you would be proud of him. He knows that he will probably love you all his life and that without you his destiny is to wait for someone to entertain him enough to not think about you all the time. He knows how sad that is and he's not sure if he can continue like this for much more, but he can't condemn you to what a relationship with him means, he barely has time for himself and how could he try to have a relationship with you if he can't give you all the time you deserve? How can he try to be with you if it means you have to be moving from one side of the world to the other all the time or not see him as often as he would like?

If everything was different he would have jumped right into your arms months ago, but you deserve much more than what he can give you.

Max's voice brings him out of his thoughts telling him something painfully true "so you’re already looking for a girl who looks like Y/N to spend the night?" How much more time can he spend trying to find you in another person? probably a lot less than he thinks.

-

He was hypnotized, watching you dance with your friends, running your hands over your body, laughing and looking so sexy, since you arrived he couldn't stop looking at you, a feeling between how bothered he was by that sinful dress that hugged your body in all the right places and the concern for the cold greeting he had received, he was gripping his glass tightly and using all his will not to grab you by the waist and pull you against him, he wanted to ask you the reason behind your actions, how were you able to stay away from him, when it felt impossible for him to do that.

It was then that he saw him, tall, with a bright smile, just the type of boy you've always liked, he approached you and spoke to you so carefree, calm, without the all the nerves Lando felt every time he had to get too close to you. He doesn't know what the boy said to you that made your laugh echo throughout all the VIP area but he was sure as hell it couldn't be that funny, how could your eyes shine like that looking at someone that two seconds ago you didn't know existed? how could you look at a stranger the way Lando had always wanted for you to look at him? oh how oblivious he was

As soon as he tried to get up to stop the situation, he felt the hand of the same girl he had seen earlier on his shoulder and as some type of divine signal it was then that he came to his senses. If he really loved you, he should let you live your own life.

Back to where you were, the nameless boy grinded against you while grabbing your hip and the two of you danced to the rhythm of the music, he was cute, sure, he was nice and funny, but in your drunken state your head seemed to betray you making you think about Lando over and over again, each song seemed to be talking about him, about you, about the two of you, and just when you were trying to get away from the boy it occurred to you to look at him, At this point you should be used to it, glass in hand, a girl on his lap, kissing so passionately it made you want to cry.

You were fucking sick of it, sick of the looks of pity from all your friends, of not being able to get mad at the girl, or Lando, you could only be mad at yourself for having these stupid feelings and not being able to settle for his friendship that at the end of the day was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you really don't know how or when but you were glued to a wall kissing the guy, he was grabbing your ass tightly and biting your lip while you were pulling his hair trying to understand the situation you found yourself in, with far too many drinks on you, the jealousy, shame and unreciprocated feelings you felt for your best friend, you decided to lose yourself in the touch of the boy you had just met.

When the girl moved away from him to take a breath he saw you, your hair messy, your dress rolled up and that son of a bitch's hands grabbing you just like he would like to do, he didn't even have the decency to take you somewhere more private, but again, who was he to get involved in what you were doing if he knew that he couldn't give you what you deserved anyway, so he grabbed the girl's face and continued kissing her, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, the weight of the girl on his lap made him wish it was you, Lando wanted you to grab his hair just like you did with the boy you were kissing, he knew he could make you feel much better than him, he would take you somewhere empty because only he should be the only one to see you this way, he would grab you by the waist and pull you against him, he would kiss you with so much feelings that you wouldn't doubt his love for you, the erection that grew underneath his pants made him imagine how good you would feel rubbing yourself on him and he was sure it would feel like heaven listening to you moaning his name when he went down to kiss your neck.

“fuck, y/n just like that, baby” he didn't expect that it was going to be your name the one that escaped his lips.

The look of confusion and shock from the girl who was sitting on his lap brought him back to reality, and he doesn't know if he was suddenly sober or if all the alcohol that was in his system hit him at once but his body, his mind and all his senses told him to look for y/n, so apologizing to the girl and getting her off of him, he began to look for his love.

He looked around but there was no sign of her, her friends were still dancing in the same place but she and the boy he had seen her with earlier had disappeared, he asked Max but he told him that he had lost sight of them ago. For a while, when he saw Olivia, he realized that if anyone could help him, it was her.

he got into the crowd of dancing girls trying to get her friend's attention, "Olivia, hey, where did y/n go?" He said when the girl finally saw him

"Lando, I think you should leave her alone, she's busy" your friend knew that today you just needed to forget about him.

"Did she leave with him? Just tell me if she's still here, please" Lando was desperate, he feared that if he didn't find you now he would never have the courage to confess his feelings to you again

Olivia finally gave up "she just told me she was going to his house, I don't think they're gone yet" she took a deep breath and added "she's trying to forget you, I know deep down you know that, don't do anything if you know you're gonna hurt her, Lando."

"Thank you, i promise i will not" he said before running to the club’s door

You don't know why you agreed to this, but you found yourself walking towards the car of the boy you just met today, do you really want this? you don't know, in your head you just think that maybe this is it, maybe he can make you forget about Lando, in fact, you should be happy, he is cute, hot, funny, attentive and respectful, why aren't you happy? And why do you feel so relieved when you feel a hand on your shoulder stopping you?

"y/n, please don't go with him" you turn around when you hear the familiar voice and you feel your stomach do a thousand flips when you see the person you've been thinking about all night.

You pause to look at him before speaking, he looks agitated, in a hurry even, as if he was going to run out of time, but even in that state he is the most attractive man you have ever seen, some buttons on his shirt are undone showing his chest, as if the slightly see-through fabric wasn't enough, his tanned skin glowing under the night lights and you don't understand why he has to come out of nowhere now to ruin anyone else for you.

"Lando, is everything okay?" Your voice denotes concern and Lando just wants to have you in his arms.

"lov- sorry, y/n" he corrected himself "don't go with him, I need to talk to you, please, I need you to give me a chance"

"what are you talking about?" Your words came out like a whisper, you had to be misunderstanding him, or not?

"Sorry mate, this isn't your fault, but I love her, she's the love of my life, I can't let her go."

Suddenly you remembered the boy who was there with you, you looked over your shoulder, you only saw confusion in his gaze and you felt sorry for how he had ended up in this situation just because of bad luck, you shared a look and the boy understood that he had to leave.

"Lando, if this is some kind of joke or you're just doing it because that girl rejected you, I want you to know that it's not funny."

Lando felt a pang of pain in his chest, what had he been doing wrong all this time for you to believe him capable of playing with you like that?

"this isn’t a joke, y/n, I'm tired of pretending that I don't just love you, baby." he said taking a few steps until he was right in front of you "I don't know what I did for you to not want to see me or talk to me, but let me fix it, even if you don't feel the same way, I need you to treat me like before, I miss you love"

"I was just trying to forget you, Lando" the tears began to fall down your face and you didn't know if you felt shame, joy, anger or relief, if he felt the same, why had he made you see him with all those girls before? Why hadn't he spoken sooner? Why hadn't you spoken sooner?

you felt his lips on yours, and for the second time that night you were kissing someone, but this time everything made sense, you could only think about lando, you were right where you wanted to be, you were aware of his touch in every place where his body made contact with yours and time seemed to have stopped, you were addicted to the feeling of finally having him all to yourself and you didn't want to stop even to take a breath or move to another place.

He felt the same way and with all his strength he moved away just enough to mumble "let's get out of here."

-

The car ride to your house felt like a fever dream, you wanted to talk to each other but you had so many ideas in your head that you didn't know what to say first, you wanted to touch each other but you didn't want to spend another minute without being in a place just for the you two, so all you did was share looks of love and happy giggles

You two were finally home and it seemed like you were glued to each other, the heat in the room was becoming more and more unbearable as you kissed, grabbed and caressed each other, thanks to muscle memory you managed to get to your room and Lando just pushed you to the bed before climbing into it straddling you

"So pretty, baby, I can't believe I finally have you" he said kissing your neck and lifting your dress asking permission to take it off.

You nodded silently and Lando wasted no time in removing the garment that covered your body. He began to run kisses and licks over your shoulders, collarbones, arms and stomach until he left you desperate and trembling beneath him. You knew he was enjoying it but you had waited so long for this that you couldn't stand him not touching you right where you wanted, losing your patience you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.

“nuh huh, that's my job, precious, let me enjoy you just the way I want” He said kissing, sucking and biting your neck, his words sending shivers to the wet areas of your skin.

"Lando, please, you're going to have plenty of time to enjoy me in every way you want, just fuck me already, I can't wait." As you spoke you couldn't help but arch your back when lando gently bit your collarbone making a moan escape your mouth.

you heard him laugh cockily "plenty of time? does that mean we're going on a second date?" and just when you thought about slapping him for his bad joke you felt him cup your pussy relieving half of the tension you felt.

He lived to please you and if you wanted to get to the point that's what he would do, he quickly got rid of your bra attacking one of your nipples with his tongue, circling the muscle over it before taking it all in his mouth, moaning softly into it, after a while he moved to your other nipple, repeating his actions, but paying attention to the previous one with his big, rough, veiny hands, you were a moaning mess, and every once in a while you had to remind yourself that this was really happening and it wasn't a product of your imagination.

"mmh Lando that feels so good, please don't stop" you said trying to reach his member to touch it over his clothes, but you instantly felt him pin your arms over your head

"not yet, y/n tonight is all about you, let me make you feel good" he said moving down to your hips leaving kisses right on the waistline of your panties

He stopped to look at the lace panties you were wearing, black and all see-through, they were sexy but at the same time elegant and Lando felt like he would faint right there.

"these are so pretty, it's a shame i have to take them off," he said, taking your underwear on each side and removing it in one go.

It was at that moment that he saw you naked for the first time, you looked so hot but also innocent, the look of desire and at the same time love in your eyes could not be compared to anything that Lando had seen before, and he couldn't believe he had been missing on this for so long.

He ran a hand over your wet center and hissed at the sensation.

"baby, please do something, I'm going crazy" you begged, pushing your hips against his hand, trying to get more friction.

"well, since you're in such a hurry, god, we have to work on your patience, love." Without warning, Lando put a finger inside your hole and at the same time went down to lick your clit, while leaving his finger still inside you, he licked your bundle of nerves from side to side, up and down and circling his tongue against you, the euphoria you felt at that moment didn’t allow you to speak, the only thing that came out of your mouth were desperate breaths and moans of his name repeatedly. Every time you dared to look between your legs and saw your friend's piercing eyes you felt yourself embarrassingly quick getting closer to the edge.

"Lando, I need more, please, I want to cum."

so you felt a second finger inside you, he began to move them at a soft and strong pace, curving them inside you in the most delicious way, it didn't take long for you to finish all over his mouth and fingers, with a scream of his name and pulling him against you by his hair, he continued sucking your clit until you pushed his head due to overstimulation.

“You taste so good, my love, please let me do it again” he said kissing your inner thighs trying to open your legs again.

"another time, babe, I want you to fuck me, I need to feel you" you said pulling him from his shirt, you were feeling a little self conscious as you noticed how he was fully dressed and you were naked in front of him, so you unbuttoned his pants begging him to take them off, he, always willing to please you, pulled them down at the same time with his boxers, letting his dick come out freely in front of your face.

None of all the dirty nights you spent thinking about him could prepare you for what was in front of your eyes, his member, the perfect length, thick and veiny, with his tip all wet, seemed to beg you to put it in your mouth.

And that’s what you did, kneeling on the bed in front of him, licking the tip vaguely and without wasting much time you started sucking on it. Lando grabbed your hair in a ponytail and allowed himself to enjoy the heat of your mouth.

You wanted to make him feel good, it was the only thing you could think at that moment, and when you looked up and saw his face contorted with pleasure, his head thrown back and tasted his salty precum you could only moan in satisfaction, the entire moment made you so wet again and your hole clenched around nothing.

Against all his desire and will, Lando removed his dick from your mouth, it felt so good, but he needed to fuck you, he needed to feel your wet walls around him, so once again he pushed you on the bed and put your legs on his shoulders.

"Are you ready?" The question felt like a joke, you had been ready for months.

"yes, so ready, please fuck me"

You felt his member press against your pussy and the wetness made it so easy for him to slide in all at once.

Both of you moaned in unison as you felt that you were finally where you belong, Lando stayed still for a moment to let you get used to the size and to take a breathe so he wouldn’t cum on the spot.

When he saw your desperate face and felt how you pushed your hips against him, Lando began to fuck you without mercy, hand on your neck choking you just the way you like it, grunts and moans escaping from his mouth, turning you on more and more.

"baby, please, I'm so close, you fuck me so so good, I love your dick so much, please" you didn't know what you were saying, you just knew that you didn't want anyone but him.

Lando couldn't help but laugh at your state, but he wasn't much better than you, feeling his orgasm getting closer, he removed his hand from your neck and began to draw circles on your clit, his thrusts were erratic and the trembling in his legs let you know that he wasn't going to last much longer.

"land-o, baby, cum inside, I need you to fill me" and with those simple words the two of you climaxed at the same time, white dots filled your vision and you could swear it was the longest orgasm you’ve ever had, when you came back to your senses, your friend removed his member from your hole and turned your positions so that you were on top of him.

"We should clean up" you said, ignoring your tiredness, trying to be responsible.

"Let's stay like this for a while, I need to hug you, hold you close" despite his tired tone you could hear him talking to you with a smile.

A few minutes passed and just when Lando was about to fall asleep, your words brought him out of his state.

"You know we'll have to talk about this tomorrow, right?"

And just like that, he remembered each and every reason why he hadn't done this before.

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.

So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.

Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.

A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?

He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.

Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.

"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.

"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.

"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."

"Okay..."

You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.

"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"

You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.

Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.

He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.

Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.

He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.

Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.

"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"

"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.

"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.

"Your kisses are more than enough"

"Who am I to say no to that?"

And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.

The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—

Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.

Your lovable idiot atleast.

"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"

"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"

"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"

"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"

"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."

"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"

"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.

The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.

But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything

It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.

"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"

"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"

"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.

"Robin must miss you" You mumble.

"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."

"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.

Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.

"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"

꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[greengoblinswifey]

could you do a story where frontman is readers sugar daddy, please and thank you I ❤️ your writing.

Luxury & Lies— Hwang In-ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Being In-ho’s sugar baby came with luxuries beyond your wildest dreams. You never questioned where his wealth came from, only cared about what you could get out of him. But when you stumbled upon the truth, the Squid Game and the power he held as the Front Man, you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. And In-ho? He’d do anything to keep you.

warnings— Sugar daddy!in-ho, manipulation, cunnilingus, body worship, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.

a/n— Thank you and enjoy <3

Youth and beauty on the outside was not eternal, that being said, you were always one to use it to your advantage.

It was by using those assets that caused you to stumble upon Hwang In-ho. He was an older yet very attractive man and obviously very wealthy. You knew how to play the game right and the night you had met In-ho, you were seated in the lounge area of an upscale restaurant that was famous for transactions like this.

He slipped into the seat next to you, decked in an expensive suit and as soon as you flipped your hair and tilted your head, he was sold.

You didn’t have to say much, especially when it came to older men, you let him do the talking, you were just there to look pretty and get what you want. And you got way more than you bargained for being Hwang In-ho’s sugar baby.

In-ho always gave you what you wanted. That was the foundation of your arrangement. You asked, and he delivered—no questions, no hesitations. It started with luxury handbags and designer clothes and shoes, then first class trips and five star hotels, and before you knew it, you had an entire apartment paid for in your name and a collection of jewelry that could make royalty jealous.

Being with In-ho meant being spoiled, but it also meant playing your role. You were his eye candy at every event, the one in his arm in dresses he picked out for you, flashing a smile that made investors and business partners envious. You liked the life you lived, liked the way people looked at you when you walked into a room together.

You never questioned how he could afford it all. What did it matter? You weren’t with him for his morality, you were with him for what he could give you.

But then you found out.

It had been an accident, really. You were in his office at the penthouse, bored and nosy, and you stumbled across a locked drawer in his desk. He always kept things private, but this was different, the secrecy intrigued you. So you looked until you found the key, expecting maybe some business documents or an old affair he never wanted you to know about.

You didn’t expect tapes.

Or the footage of people being slaughtered.

You sat frozen, watching clips from the so called Squid Game, men and women gunned down like animals, the screams piercing even through the speakers of his monitor. And there, in the midst of it all, was him—your sugar daddy, the man who paid for your lifestyle, standing over it all in that black mask.

The Front Man.

The truth settled like ice in your veins, but strangely, you weren’t horrified. You were curious.

For the first time since meeting In-ho, you had leverage.

So, you confronted him.

You remembered the way he looked at you when you brought it up. The sharp inhale. The slight flinch. He had tried to keep you in the dark for a reason, because, deep down, he feared this exact moment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said, voice carefully neutral.

“Yeah?” You folded your arms. “Well, I did.”

A pause. A long, heavy silence. And then, a confession. He admitted everything. How long he had been in charge. What the games really were. The money, the power, the control.

“I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he said eventually, looking down. “I won’t stop you.”

That was the moment you could have walked away. Should have, maybe. But you had no intention of leaving.

Instead, you put on a show, acted like you needed time, like you were shaken and unsure. Let him panic, let him compensate.

And, oh, did he compensate.

A brand new penthouse apartment, yours, fully paid for. A car, your dream model, delivered to your doorstep. Cash in your account, a credit card linked to his bank account. Jewelry, vacations, an all expenses paid trip with your homegirls on his private jet, all while he stayed behind, giving you space.

He only texted you once.

“Let me know when you're ready to talk.”

When you had everything you wanted, you decided it was time.

The night you returned, he was already waiting in your penthouse, standing by the windows with a glass of whiskey.

“You look beautiful,” he said, scanning your outfit like he hadn’t seen you in weeks, which he hadn’t. “Did you have a good trip?”

“It was perfect,” you said, slipping off your coat and letting it drop onto the couch. “Thanks to you.”

He exhaled softly, nodding. “And are you ready to talk?”

“I am,” you said as you walked toward him slowly, heels clicking against the floor.

He tensed. You could see it in the way his fingers curled slightly against the glass, like he was bracing himself for the worst.

“You kept a huge secret from me, In-ho,” you murmured, stopping just inches away. “That’s not something I can just forgive overnight.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry. For all of it.”

“I bet you are.” You reached for his tie, giving it a gentle tug. “But sorry isn’t enough. You have to earn my trust again.”

His breathing hitched. “Anything,” he murmured, voice low. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

You smiled, slow and sultry. “Good,” you said, stepping backward toward the bedroom. “Then follow me.” And just like that, he did.

You led him across the penthouse, never looking back, because you didn’t need to, you could feel his presence behind you, could feel the heat of his stare. By the time you reached the bedroom, you stopped at the edge of the bed, tilting your head just slightly over your shoulder.

He was watching you with hungry, dark eyes, scanning every inch of you. And then, you let yourself fall back against the silk sheets, stretching out, parting your legs to make your point.

His breath came uneven. “You—”

“You said you’d do anything,” you murmured, hooking a leg around his waist and pulling him closer. “Show me.”

Something inside him snapped.

He was on you in seconds, his hands gripping you, lips crashing against yours with a desperation you had never felt from him before. He wasn’t just indulging you—he was proving himself.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly that.

Because at the end of the day, you always got what you wanted.

The second In-ho had you beneath him, it was like something inside him broke loose. His hands were at your clothes in an instant, fabric tearing under his grip as he stripped you naked. The sound of ripping seams filled the air, followed by a sharp gasp from you as cool air met your skin.

“In-ho—”

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes flickering over you like he was soaking up every inch to memory.

His lips were on you before you could respond, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, over your breasts. His lips were everywhere, like he was trying to worship and make it up to you.

Then he was lower, his mouth pressing against your stomach, his hands holding you steady as you squirmed.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, breath catching.

“Look at you,” he groaned. “So perfect. Always so goddamn perfect for me.”

And then, he had you unraveling.

The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy had your back arching, fingers twisting into the sheets as pleasure shot through you like lightning. He moaned against you, gripping your thighs to hold you still, but you couldn’t—not when he was devouring you like this, like he had been starved for you.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against your pussy, pressing a kiss between every stroke of his tongue. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You barely heard him past the pleasure that built and built with every expert movement of his mouth. He was relentless, slow at first, savoring you, but when he felt you tense, when he heard the way you gasped his name, he tightened his grip and ravished you with ferocity that had your legs shaking.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

And when you finally came, when you cried out so loud you swore the whole city could hear, he only held you through it, kissing your thighs, whispering praises against your heated skin.

“You’re a dream,” he breathed, pressing a lingering kiss just below your navel. “So beautiful. So good for me.”

In-ho didn’t stop. Even after you were left trembling beneath him, after your breath was still shaky and your body tingled from the aftershocks, he kept kissing you, soft presses of his lips against your skin.

“You're everything,” he murmured between kisses, trailing from your chest to your lips. “More than I deserve.”

The way you shivered when his fingers brushed your breasts, the way your breath hitched when he pressed a kiss just below your chest. He worshiped you, whispering apologies against your skin.

“Forgive me,” he said, forehead resting against yours. “For everything. For keeping things from you, for being selfish enough to want you despite it all.”

You cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You're not losing me,” you promised softly, and the way his eyes darkened told you he believed you—but he needed to prove himself anyway.

His mouth found yours in a desperate kiss, hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. You felt him—all of him, hard and heavy against your thigh.

Another thing about In-ho? He was the full package. The biggest you’d had, the biggest you probably ever would have, and he knew exactly how to use it.

He smirked at the way you swallowed hard, his hands skimming down your sides, teasing, making you wait.

“You always act like such a brat,” he murmured, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Like you don’t need me.” His hand wrapped around your thigh, pulling you flush against him. “But then I get you like this, and you melt for me.”

“In-ho,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders.

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dragging it out, making you feel every inch of his cock as he slowly pressed against your folds. “Let me take care of you.”

And when he finally gave in, when he finally stopped teasing and claimed you, it was deep, slow, possessive. He worshiped you, murmuring praises against your lips, against your skin. He filled you inch by inch, your pussy quivering around him.

“You're perfect,” he groaned. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your nails dug into his back, legs tightening around him as he pulled you closer, right on his dick. Every slow, deep stroke unraveled you, and he felt everything, the way you clung to him, the way you gasped his name like a prayer.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Give it to me. Cum.”

And when you finally did, when you cried out and your body tensed beneath him, he held you through it, his own breath ragged, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let you go.

He didn’t pull away right away—just kissed you through it, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. Soon, you felt the rush of his cum filling you up and his soft moans in your ear.

“Mine,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re mine.”

In-ho never just left you after. That wasn’t who he was.

No matter how intense things got, no matter how desperate or needy, he always made sure to take care of you after.

Tonight was no different.

He pressed a kiss to your temple before slipping away, only to return moments later with a warm cloth. He handled you carefully, murmuring soft praises as he cleaned you up, whispering apologies when you flinched from sensitivity. His touch was steady, so unlike the man who ran the most brutal game in existence. With you, he was different.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, running a hand down your thigh as he finished.

You nodded sleepily, reaching for him. “Mhm.”

That was all he needed to hear. He tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, shifting until you were resting on his chest, his fingers tracing circles into your skin.

“I’ll prove myself to you every day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be here for you.”

You hummed in response, half asleep against him, but he knew you heard him.

That was something about In-ho, you knew this arrangement was transactional, but there was something deeply intimate in the way he held you after, in the way he needed to keep you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away in the night.

Even now, his grip on you was firm.

“You’re so good to me,” you mumbled, fingertips skimming his jaw.

“You deserve it,” he murmured, eyes half lidded as he looked down at you. “And more.”

He held you like that for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings, pressing lazy kisses to your hair. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but you both knew, no matter how complicated things were, he wasn’t letting you go.

[artyandink]

—————————————— ————007.ᐟDICK THOUGHTS ᝰ.ᐣ

THE STREET WAS BUSY, busier than usual, and all you wanted was to get home from working in your 9–5 (you say that but it was a shift) with your complimentary coffee from Costa, weaving your way through crowd traffic. It was full of people yelling, on their phones or barging into people on their way to work— honestly, did people have no class nowadays? You served most of these bitches on a daily basis — look, there’s Miss Double-Cappucino-Hold-On-The-Foam — you deserved some respect.

Really, though, did anyone have a real reason for running through this street and making it a walking hazard?

DICK GRAYSON ran through the streets, a classified file that he just stole from a covert facility held in his hand in a vice grip as he sprinted through the crowd. Was he aware that about five members of said covert facility’s security team were chasing him? Very much so. Didn’t help that he didn’t look like the average civilian either— he was wearing a black coat, suit, tie and gloves, for goodness sake.

He needed a way to get into an enclosed space and hide.

That’s when his eyes landed on a civilian ten feet in front of him— you looked like a good manner of distraction, plus, your lips looked… not chapped. So he tucked the file in his coat, and went for it. His hands cupped your shoulders, guiding you into a side alley and muttering something about how he wasn’t going to hurt you, then kissed you.

A fucking stranger was kissing you. Wait, oh, my lord, he was amazing at it.

You gasped into his mouth, having half a mind to pull away, but nah, surely not, he was a great kisser. So you cupped his cheek by instinct, leaning into it, and his hand placement was just immaculate, his lips were so soft and like they were clouds, at least clouds which made your brain feel fuzzy, however wrong this was. While kissing your lips until they went numb, he wasn’t listening out for when the footsteps faded until he could pull back and take a good look at you. God, you were pretty.

Shit, he was hot.

He was like a real life Prince Charming, with black hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, which were blue as hell with pouty lips and flushed cheeks from all the… macking. And then said lips ticked up into a smile, laying one more on you before winking.

“Thanks, sweets.” He grinned, before turning on his heel and sprinting out of the alley, leaving you pressed up against a wall.

The fuck just happened?

[godmadeaterribleerror]

No More

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, so much angst, hurt/comfort, small fluff at the end, pre-established relationship, past abusive/toxic relationship, soft Dean

Summary/Warnings: Some scars don't really fade. They just fester and rot, remaining unattended in your body because you can't really remember how to heal them.

And Dean can't fix this for you. But he can give you somewhere safe to fix yourself.

Author's Note: Request from an anon! This one's heavy guys. If you think that past abusive relationships might be a no go for you, make the right choice for yourself <3. If not, enjoy (?) the story.

Word Count: 4k

It had been a good hunt. An objectively good hunt. Done in two days, no bodies to burn or bury, an alright bar in the town, and Sam managing to get his own room because he’s sick of you trying to bang Dean in front of him.

“Hey, don’t blame my girl for how you’re always sticking your ass in our business-“

“We share a room, Dean!” Sam had said, half-throwing his hands in the air. “Where else am I supposed to stick my ass if not in our communal living space-“

Dean had snorted. “Communal living space? Dude, you sound like such a jackass-“

“Why, because I can use big words like space?”

“I- Watch it, Sammy-“

“I’ll watch it if you stop trying to fuck on my bed!”

They’d kept arguing. You’d remained silent, picking at the wood of the table and wondering if—should you actually attempt to—you could sink into Dean’s chest and just stay there for a while. It would be warm and solid, and probably not all that safe—that man got himself stabbed and shot a lot—but safer than being in you. Then your traitorous and useless body, made only to be snapped in half. It must have something written on it or in it, emit some kind of blacklight or stench that said weak. Dumb, weak little bitch, lucky to have this because you don’t deserve it. Couldn’t deserve it.

Better, you could turn to stone, right here in the booth. If you could do that, you’d never get another bruise on your throat or hear venomous words spat in your ear. Sam and Dean could leave you behind and never have to feel any guilt. Dean could stop having to pretend he likes you as more than a body, and pull away without beating himself up about abandoning you like a used and worn couch. 

Moth-eaten and stained, only still in the house because it feels wrong to throw it out. Because you have a little sentimentality for the couch when it was nice, before it had been beaten and abused and reduced to just a lumpen sack of feathers and cloth.

You don’t think that comparison is fair to the couch. 

At least the couch was once useful.

Because it had been a good hunt.

You were the problem.

You’d slipped and wavered and fallen. But the whole place had smelled like lavender soap, and it had carried you back to where that same smell had suffocated you. He had loved that smell, and said it made you seem prettier and softer than you were. 

This whole case had reeked of him. And you’d told yourself you’d be fine. That it was in the past, and he wasn’t supposed to have that kind of control over you anymore. That the world seems gray in that vamp nest, but it was winter, so that was to be expected. And when you’d been knocked flat on your back, you’d seen a crack in the ceiling—identical to the one that had been over his bed—but had been a coincidence. Ceilings cracked, and there were only so many patterns in the world.

And when a Vamp had wrapped its hand around your throat, that was just something that happened to hunters. You all got hurt and beaten and had close calls. That was the job. You’d faced worse than this. You’d faced blood coating your fingers and splattered on your face, guts pooling at your feet and long moments where you’d been sure no one would come and save you.

Dean had always saved you. Even before you’d started doing more—and then more and more and more, until it seemed pretty obvious you were dating and it was more exhausting to fight it than accept it—Dean had always been saving you. He’d had to do it today, yanking the Mare off your chest and cradling your head against his chest until you were breathing easily. 

Yet again, you’d been the problem. The hunt had been easy and simple, and you’d still fucked it because you sucked. You were dead-weight. You couldn’t stop feeling the hand around your throat—imprinted like a tattoo that made your words small and body smaller—and you couldn’t stop the weighed down feeling of hopelessness. Your brain stuck on a scratching loop around the Vamp’s hiss of dumb, annoying, weak little bitch, until you couldn’t manage to smile at anything at all.

It just made you feel worse, because Dean might be worried you don’t think he’s being funny. That whenever he makes truly horrible joke and you don’t giggle like a lovesick schoolgirl, it’s because he’s gone wrong.

He’s done nothing. You really hope he just gives up and tosses you aside, because he shouldn’t have to put up with worry about something so valueless. He’d find someone else. Someone better and more deserving. You’re just lucky he ever even looked at you, let alone bothered to try and stay. To try and be the hero that keeps rescuing the princess, even when the princess is just a peasant who can put on a show.

You’d tricked him into thinking you’re better than you are. Lied to him until you’d trapped him, and now he had to stay with you, because he’s a good man and you’re simply the fucking worst thing in the world to darken his path, and he’ll leave if he really saw you-

That’s not fair to Dean. He is a good man. Better than he was, by miles and stretches and eons, but that really just made it hurt more. Because Dean’s not him, but you’re still you. The same you who was weak, and stupid, and undeserving. That doesn’t change. It only grows now that you have someone you really don’t deserve. Someone who glows in the low light of the night, laughs in a way that fills the bar with life, and always touches you like he’d like to keep you.

You aren’t something that should be kept. But he’s doing it anyway.

And there’s some bile in your throat at the thought. And that’s just another way in which this—in which you—are horrible.

But the worst part was that things like this happened all the time, and you still weren’t strong enough to build an immunity. To just move on, like a big girl. To actually teach yourself that he was in the past, and this you—now, in the present, sitting with your smoking hot boyfriend’s arm around your shoulders—didn’t have any right to be afraid anymore.

“Are you feeling okay?” 

You blink at Dean as he guides you out of the bar, Sam walking a few feet ahead and the wind of the night is so cold-

Dean says your name, his brow furrowing in the way it does when he’s worried, and you give him your best, softest, most docile smile.

“Everything’s fine.” You say, and you can almost believe yourself. Your voice is gentle and small and doesn’t sound like you, but it’s the best way to end the questions. You’ll fold over. You’ll bend until you snap. And nobody needs to push you for that to happen. 

But Dean’s still frowning. “Are you sure? ‘Cause if you’re feeling well we can head back to the bunker tonight, and Sam won’t have to get his own room-“

“No, Dean, I’m-“

“Yeah, no, Dean.” Sam turns, shooting his brother a glare. “How would I get home?”

“You’re smart, Sammy, you’d figure it out-“

You tune out the rest of their fake-argument. You’re mostly listening to the wind. It’s loud, and strong, and cold. So cold, biting at your skin and making your joints stiff, but at least you can feel it. It’s not numbing, and it’s indifferent, and Sam and Dean don’t seem half as affected by it as you are, but they’re also not weak-

“C’mon,” Dean says your name, and you realize you’re moving again. That he’s guiding you into the shotgun seat, and a grumpy looking Sam is clambering into the back.

“Wait, why-“

“We’re dropping Sam off, then heading back.” Dean turns the engine on, his voice barely raising to match the rumble, and you’re not sure you heard him right.

“Why- I don’t-“

“I wanna go home.” Dean shrugs, and it’s too casual. “And Sammy’s a big boy, he’ll be fine without Mommy and Daddy watching him.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, built by Sam’s groan from behind you, and you can’t stop the words from slipping out. “I told you to stop calling us that.”

“Yeah, but you also told me that you were-“ Dean cuts himself off, shaking his head slightly and clearing his throat. “That you weren’t into car sex, and that ain’t ever stopped us-“

You cover his mouth with a hand—his shit-eating grin just as blinding in only his eyes—and Sam makes a fake gagging sound.

And you think Dean knows. That he’s realized that you’re just so tired and weak and useless, and he’s trying to work out if it’s worth keeping you around. If you’ll listen to him and do what he asks—and you will, you always will, not because of the threat of being left but because he’s Dean and he couldn’t lead you astray if he tried—or if he needs to leave you on the pavement to scrape yourself back together.

So you don’t fight him, or insist that Sam can have his privacy and sanity without getting another room or you and Dean leaving, because you don’t really want to be touched like that right now. You just drop Sam off at the motel, grab your bags, and slump back into the Impala’s bench as Sam and Dean exchange low words outside.

By the time Dean joins you, you’re half asleep. And you try to stay awake—to entertain him half as much as he entertains you—but he pulls you right into his side, lets your head rest on his shoulder, and Dean doesn’t smell like lavender. He smells like evergreen and apples, he’s warm when your ears are still a little numb from the cold, and when he starts to hum along to the low music, you’re gone. Everything fades, and it’s just the deep sound of Dean’s voice like a lullaby and a big, firm hand on your thigh that isn’t going to leave a bruise.

Maybe you don’t deserve a bruise. 

Maybe you don’t deserve anything. Maybe you’re lucky to be stuck in this bed with stinging marks around your throat, and a voice like nails on your ears sneering that you’re a weak little bitch. If you were stronger you’d fight back, but you’ve been broken in and can’t be put back together. If you were stronger, you’d scream for help, but you’re also so horribly you that you know nobody will ever come and save you.

Who would try to save you? Who could possibly care about something like you enough to bother and patch up you up, to take string to your skin and heart and organs and tie them back together? You’re not strong enough to make anything stick. You’re made of glass and linen, and any attempt to put you back together would be futile, because you’d probably just break further. Someone would have to be patient enough to pull you back together when you spooled apart, and warm enough to fuse and meld you in a way that wouldn’t shatter with one touch.

You don’t think a person like that would be real. And if they are, they wouldn’t want you.

Because they’d be strong, and you really are weak.

If you were strong, you would’ve left. But you’re still here in this freezing cold bed, staring at the crack on the ceiling.

And you don’t think you’ll ever be more than that. Not as another hand wraps around your throat—you don’t remember what you said, but you must have said something—and there’s a heavy weight on your chest and you can’t breathe-

“Breathe.” A deep voice that sounds like it cares says your name, and you listen. “It’s okay, you’re okay, just breathe for me.”

For him. There’s a hand on your head that’s combing through your hair and pressing you into a place that warm and solid and safe. You’re held steady by an arm around your waist, and it fits so well there. You don’t think it could hurt you if it tried.

He’d sounds kind and caring, and he’d said your name like you mattered, so you’ll try to breathe.

And you don’t remember how to do it for yourself yet, so—just for now, until you can teach yourself to do anything for you—you’ll breathe for him.

“There you go, baby,” the voice mutters, and when you make a weak, choked sound his body tenses, but he doesn’t push you away. “I know, but I’ve got you. Swear I’ve got you.”

He says he’s got you. Dean says he’sgot you.

And you believe him.

So you start to cry.

He’d never liked it when you cried. He’d said it was useless, and that the sound was annoying.

Dean just keeps holding you, and muttering soothing words in your ear until the tears stop flowing. He only keeps rubbing a circle on your back until your breathing slows, and you can lean back to meet his gaze.

He’s not angry. Just worried. 

You’re going to start crying again.

“Are,” you sniff, trying to pull yourself back together by force, and look around the dark space. “Are we still in the car?”

“Pulled over earlier.” He mutters, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone with a care you don’t deserve. “You started doing that tossing shit when you’re about to have a nightmare. Wanted to get ahead of it.”

You swallow. You’d made him pull over, and you had enough nightmares that he knew what one looked like, and you were just a burden and problem and he should just shove you out of the Impala and leave you to rot like carrion on the highway-

“Stop doin’ that.” Dean grunts, and you tense.

“I- I’m not-“

“You’re freakin’ out. You’re freakin’ me out.” Dean scans over your face, pulling you close until you’re half on his lap. “If you’re hurt, you know you gotta tell me, sweetheart. I’m not looking to do a zombie bite thing, where we get home and you start bleeding all over the floor. So tell me.” He takes a deep breath, and his exhale is warm over your lips. “Please tell me.”

You can’t tell him. You’re not ready for him to leave yet.

You drop your brow to Dean’s, taking low, slow breaths and shaking your head. “It’s okay-“

“It’s fucking not.” He snaps your name, his grip tightening slightly, and you flinch. “I- shit- did I hurt you-“

“No.” You mumble. “I’m just tired-“

“You’ve been sleeping for five hours. You’ll get another seven once we get goin’ again. But,” Dean narrows his eyes, even as his grip loosens once more. “We’re not getting back on the road until you answer me. What’s wrong.”

“I-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound. He’s angry. You’d made him angry, and he won’t hurt you but if he did you’d deserve it-

You start crying again, and Dean’s eyes widen. This is it. He’s going to push you out the window and you’ll have to wander through the marshes until the mud just swallows you whole-

Dean pulls you fully into his lap, holding you there carefully and muttering in your ear with a care and reverence you don’t deserve.

“Fuck, baby, I’m sorry, fuck, please don’t cry-“

“No, it’s- I’m-“ You take a long, strangled breath, wrapping your arms around his torso until you’re sure you’re going to suffocate him. “It’s not you, Dean, I- It’s not your problem-“

“Fucking hell it’s not my problem.”

You shake your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you really could move in there, and nothing would ever hurt you again. “It’s- You don’t have to-“

“I do.” He mutters, guiding your head back to meet his gaze. He brushes the tears from your eyes. You don’t deserve this. “You’re hurtin’.”

It’s not a question, but you nod anyways. Holding a lie too long has never done you a favor before.

“Tell me how to fix it.”

“You- you can’t fix this,” you mumble, staring at the bridge of his nose. You aren’t worthy of looking him in the eyes. “It’s, it’s just me, Dean. I’m just like this.”

He frowns. “Like what?”

“Weak.” You whisper. “I- I risked the hunt, I always risk the hunt, and I’m not strong like you and Sam are, and I just wanna go home-“

“We’re going home, babygirl.” Dean’s voice is soft, and low, and cautious, and you let out another sob that shakes your whole body. “And you’re not weak, you ganked like three vamps-“

“Could’ve done more.”

“There were seven of them. Three is pretty awesome numbers.” He gives you a nervous small smile. “You’re awesome. I don’t know who’s been telling you otherwise, but you are.”

That’s what breaks you. The floodgates don’t open—they’d barely held anything to begin with—but something snaps along your spine, and you can’t stop the horrible, rotten truth from falling out of your mouth. 

“But he was right.” You whisper. “I’m weak, Dean, and I don’t know why you can’t see it.”

“There’s nothing to see, and I- Who’s he?”

You wish that you’d slept better. If you had, your tongue wouldn’t be loosened with pure exhaustion, and you could lie.

But you’re so tired. Unbelievably tired. Mind-numbingly and persistently tired, all the time, and it’s grow so intolerable you just want to be anything else. And if what you are is weak and alone, at least you’ll know that’s where you're supposed to be. 

And you’d never wanted Dean to know. He was never supposed to learn from your own mouth how foul you are. He was supposed to find out himself, and then leave you like everyone always has the right to do.

But you’re telling him that you’re weak and fearful, that you’d never been able to fight tooth and spit and leave. You waited so, so long to leave and even then, it had only been because he’d been gone for a while, and you were so tired, and you needed to be anywhere but there. 

And you stepped out, and never gone back.

There’s not going back now either. It all spills out, from how you met him to the day you left. And Dean’s so quiet. Only watching you as you speak and squeezing his hold on your hips when you trail off or cry.

But he doesn’t kick you out. And when you finished, you’re still in his lap. You can’t read the expression on his face. The highway lights are dim, and there’s nothing obviously hateful or disgusted written over his features, but you might just be too stupid to see it-

“I’m-“ Dean clears his throat, his voice hoarse. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You blink at him, the tears still blurring your vision. “What.”

“That’s- I didn’t know, I never even fucking guessed- I should’ve guessed-“

“How would you have guessed?” You whisper, risking a drop of your brow back to his. He lets you stay. “I never told you-“

“But I know you. I should’ve seen it, you- I should’ve made you feel like you could tell me, I-“ His face hardens in his second, his grip tightening, but not to suffocated you. To protect you. To wrap his whole body around yours and keep it there safely. “I should fucking kill him. Cut off his arms and stuff them up his ass, get Cas to put the fear of god in him-“

“Dean, no-“

“He doesn’t just get to fucking do that to you and keep walking around-“

“He shouldn’t.” You mumble. “But he did. Men do all the time. And, I- I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-“

“Don’t apologize.” He grunts, dragging his thumb over your cheekbone. “You’ve never done anything wrong, baby, it’s just that son of a bitch, who’s gonna get a knock on his door soon-“

“No knocking on doors,” you wrap your arms around his neck, shaking your head against his brow. “Please, Dean, that’s- that’s not what I want-“

“What do you want?”

His question is immediate, and it crashes into you like a tidal wave. Numbing your whole body and kickstarting it in the same second, because you don’t know. You haven’t really known, haven’t had a direction, in years. You wandered and wandered and just tried to keep on breathing, to keep on your feet,  and never let yourself look back. 

You’d never been good at that last part. You kept on breathing because you didn’t have a choice. You’d kept on your feet because if you faltered, you’d fall over and it would be so painful to get back up. 

But you’d always looked back. On nights like this one, over and over and over until your eyes were sunken and your neck was craned to always make sure nothing was behind you. 

It might be nice to rest. To breathe not because it’s a labor, but because it feels nice to breathe the same air as Dean. 

It would be amazing to keep looking back—it’s a habit, and it will die a slow and withering death until it’s gone, and you never pinpoint the moment you lost it—but to also start looking forward. Looking for that place to rest, that you already seem to have found.

What do you want?

“I want some food.” You whisper, leaning back to scan over Dean’s face. “And a nap. Please.”

Dean gives you a small grin, and nods. “I think we can do that. And after, you’ll give me an address-“

“Please don’t kill him, Dean.” You drop your voice slightly, holding his gaze. “I just want to stay with you, and to never see him again. Please.”

Two more wants. You’re on a roll. 

“Just me?” Dean asks, and you don’t he believes you.

But it really is the truth.

“Just you.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, and humming when he grins against them.

“Lucky you,” he mutters your name against your lips, squeezing his arms around you “I think I know a dude who can swing that.”

You let out a soft giggle—barely a breath, but there—Dean squeezes his arms again, and you really like how he does that. It’s not because he’s trying to remind you where you belong, it’s because he trying to check that you’re there. Like he’s just as afraid that you’ll flee as you are that he’ll shove you aside, and he’s trying to hold you together with everything he has before you slip away.

“You’re really cheesy,” you say, and he chuckles.

“You like it. We start drivin’ again, you think you’ll be able to get some sleep?”

“Yeah, but food-“

“We’re only a few hours out from home.” Dean shrugs, really making no attempt to move you from his lap. “I’ll order whatever you’re feeling when we get back.”

You pause, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck as you think. “How about pizza?”

“Who’s cheesy now-“

You lean back to give him a mock glower. “Dean Winchester.”

“What did you not like that one-“

“It was horrible-“

“That’s not a no-“ 

You cut him off with a long, soft kiss, and you like it here. Wherever Dean is, you’ll like it there.

“Can we please get pizza?” You mumble, and he nods. It’s such a small, normal movement. 

It makes you feel a little more found.

“We can get anything you want, princess.”

End Note: Oof that was a sad one. Sorry squad.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[tovibeornottovibe]

Deny! Deny! Deny! - Part I

Azriel x Priestess!Fem!OC

Azriel knows Thea is just as attracted to him as he is to her. He's content to only think about her when he's in bed and he's happy to know that she's doing the same. They can spar and meet up in the training ring secretly when they can't sleep. They can talk about sex and revenge and whatever they're reading at the moment like they're things two friends just discuss at the same time. Unfortunately, an external problem forces them to be confined in the House of Wind together, with only a certain Eris Vanserra as temporary company. So, naturally, he ruins everything. [4.5k words]

warnings: explicit sexual content from the very start, masturbation, azriel being a horny mf, various sexual fantasies, swearing

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Azriel’s at his desk in the House of Wind, working, reading reports and writing little notes to himself in red ink along the margins. It’s taking him twice as long to sort through the useful parts because he keeps letting his mind wander to what it he imagines it’s like to come in Thea’s mouth. His shadows are thoroughly banished to the corners of his office, since they tend to whisper things like: when she touches herself, she whispers your name, she needs you, she’s dripping just for you, shadowsinger, wants your tongue and your hands and your… in his ear and they aren’t supposed to be eavesdropping on her. In fact, he’s ordered them not to. Explicitly. Who or what Thea thinks about in bed is not his business and he doesn’t want it to be, even if it’s him.

Because it isn’t really him, it’s just a fantasy of what she thinks he’ll be like. Same way that when he thinks of her, it isn’t her. He doesn’t know what her moans sound like or how intoxicating her skin tastes or what pretty colour her nipples are. He’s content never to find out too. His imagination is good enough.

By the time Rhys pulls that thread in the back of his mind to let him know he wants to talk, he’s this close to coming in his trousers and nowhere near hitting the very high work quota that he sets himself. 

Not a good time, Rhys, he says along the thread, and curses himself. He sounds breathy even in his head.

A dark chuckle comes back at him. Am I interrupting?

Technically, no, but Az is about to palm himself through his underwear until he spills with Thea’s name caught in his throat. When he does that, he’ll need time to clean himself up. He’s not walking into Rhys’ office smelling like he’s been in a pleasure hall in the middle of the day—though, it would get Rhys off his back about Elain finally, and then he half-considers the idea before he snaps himself out of it. So, he supposes, Rhys is interrupting, and Az isn’t available to him until he deals with his straining cock.

What do you want? he grits out, kind of like his teeth are stuck together. 

Rhys hedges, his tone annoying, Just a friendly little chit-chat between brothers, nothing hugely importan—

You’re an asshole, Az deadpans, I’m not in the mood. The heat curling in his stomach is starting to burn. Shifting in his seat makes him tense just from the friction of the fabric moving against his skin. He’s a fool, he thinks, for not just taking a break and rubbing one out earlier to get his concentration back, but there’s something delicious about clamping his jaw shut so no one hears him groaning if they pass by the door while he gets himself off in here. Maybe Cassian’s right to call him a freak in bed. Or out of bed, as the case may be.

Just finish who you’re doing and meet me in the river house once you’ve had a bath, Rhys says. We’ve had an interesting proposal.

…Damn his curiosity. 

From who? he asks.

For the moment his brother hesitates, Az thinks he’s going to fob him off and not tell him anything at all, but then, very carefully, Rhys says, That’ll definitely ruin your afternoon. And whoever it is you have with you. He lets out a huff of frustration that isn’t just because he’s been hard for twenty minutes now when Rhys retreats from the bond and leaves his head. Cryptic bullshit. Makes him anxious. Not great for maintaining a hard-on.

The irritation quickly disappears when he undoes the ties at his crotch and squeezes his cock the same way he thinks Thea will clench around him when she’s close. It’s languid and needy and he’s panting quietly at his fucking desk of all places while he smears the pre-cum thats leaking from his tip all over himself so it’s easier to tug just the way he likes it. He grips the edge of his desk when his wings start to twitch and tighten. His abs ache from the tension that keeps him from bucking up into his own hand; that’s just embarrassing. It’s probably a lewd sight, and the thought of Thea watching him whine is what gets him to come so hard on his stomach that he actually sees stars. 

Bliss, that’s what he calls it. Euphoria is reserved for the real thing.

Thea being the subject of what gets him off doesn’t factor into the post-climax guilt he feels. She knows he thinks about her like this; she asked him one time up in the training ring, he answered honestly, and she didn’t tell him not to. She laughed at him for it, coyly, and he thinks about the sound of that too. So it’s fine. 

What does get him to second-guess himself is the fact that both Rhys and Mor will skin him alive for thinking about a priestess like that, regardless of whether Thea likes it or not. They’re like that. Principles apply without context. That, and he’s made an utter mess of himself, and this particular shirt, pair of trousers, and boxers are now ruined. 

A few minutes having been taken to just be, recovering, his shadows aren’t picky about taking him from this room to his bedroom, where he strips, throws his clothes on the floor (where the House vanishes them. He’s not sure he wants to know where it puts things like that), washes, and redresses himself all in the space of five minutes. They fuss at his shoulders, but know better than to start talking again. He’d sooner fly to the river house alone than listen to them spoil Thea’s preferences. Though a comfort, they’re unnecessarily involved in trying to provide him with more company than they can give. Feminine temptation, they know as well as he does, is an effective way to make him crack.

But not when it comes to Thea.

He lands in the back gardens of the river house where the edge of the land runs off into the Sidra. Rhys and Feyre have a little pier down here where, he doesn’t know, they fish with Nyx or something. It’s all very domestic. Perfect for a kid. He’s happy for them. Really, really happy for them. Sure, the bitter, acidic envy roiling in his chest says otherwise, but he’s not listening to that right now. Or ever, if he can help it.

He strolls in through the backdoor with his shadows curling around his figure softly, barely visible in the natural Summer sunlight that streams through the windows of the house. It’s good lighting for painting, Feyre had been telling him. The stairs up to Rhys’ office are short work, he takes them two at a time, and he passes by the portraits on the walls that he’s seen a hundred times in the same way he always does, in awe. Such detail in the brush marks that the ones he can see have to be deliberate, dragging the paint for a specific effect. Az doesn’t know enough about art to know if what Feyre does is common, but he knows what he likes, and he likes what his High Lady paints.

He knocks, but Rhys calls him in before he’s finished and the metallic taste of High Fae magic hits his tongue as the door flicks open of its own accord. Soft, perfect laughter wafts through the threshold before he can take another step, and now he considers if the Mother has been conspiring against him today, because he knows that laugh.

“Ah, decided to finally grace us with your presence, Az?” It’s Mor who’s talking, a bit impatiently, but Azriel’s still snagging on who’s sitting opposite Rhys, eyeing him over her shoulder while she puts down her tea with a clink.

It shouldn’t surprise him that Thea leaves the library sometimes. Her idiosyncrasies stretch further than that, he would assume. It doesn’t surprise him that she’s wearing that wrap of blue fabric that hugs her thighs and around her ankles so that it’s more of a bodysuit than a dress, despite the flowing silk which is draped around her shoulders. The way the light bounces off her terra-cotta skin and makes the bronze in her dark curls shimmer doesn’t shock him either—he’s entirely aware of the fact that she can rival Helion for looking like the sun personified at times, and he knows that sounds romantic but it isn’t. It’s factual. Completely objective.

However, the gold foil, very intentionally flecked on the apples of her cheeks in little scraps which follow the curve of her eyes like stars, that gets him. And now he has a new way to imagine her gasping for him. Why in the world has she done that and how in the hell does it frame her face so well?

…Bad thoughts. He’s blocking them out.

Her being in Rhys’ office, that is what he needs to focus on.

“I…” he starts as he falters into the room, ripping his gaze off of Thea before it can get suspicious and onto Mor, who’s lounging by the window which looks out into the city, “...was busy.” Neither she nor Rhys give him the usual sly, snide comments at the insinuation of that. He directs his question at his brother, letting himself glance at Thea only to nod at her in greeting, like he hasn’t just had a mind-blowing orgasm at the idea of her tittering at him when he whimpers for her, before he sits down in the chair next to her. “What’s going to ruin my afternoon?”

“This is.” 

Rhys grimaces before Az turns to Thea. Between her index finger and her middle finger, she clasps a letter written on yellow-ish paper, its red seal already broken, and the page unfolded. She looks at him and tilts her head, a small smile quirking on her lips like she thinks this is funny, and he gently takes the letter from her hand. He ignores it when his fingers brush against hers.

When he sees what’s stamped on the seal, he feels his blood run cold: baying dogs amongst fire. The feeling doesn’t stop until he’s finished reading every single word that’s scrawled in that fucking handwriting on that fucking paper. 

“This is addressed to you, Thea. Directly addressed to you,” he says, raking his eyes over the word Hemithea at the top of the page. If Az's familiarity with her strikes Rhys or Mor as odd, they don’t mention it, and he’s too hyperfocused on the letter to notice if they make faces or if their breathing changes. He snaps his head up to her and makes sure she’s looking at him before he asks, “Why is Eris Vanserra addressing letters about…?” He searches for the term on the paper.

“Dissociative stimulants?” she offers, but the look he gives her makes her go quiet and he realises he’s angry. Furious, even. It’s not the cold anger that he only lets Rhys see, not the icy rage that comes over him when he needs to release it. And it’s not with her, never, but with the situation, and he’s not doing a good job at pushing that at anything but her. There’s no fear on her face, thankfully, she just seems taken aback by the strength of his feeling about it. So is he, if he’s honest, but having his friend offer advice to one of his mortal enemies wasn’t what he had on the cards for today. 

“Yes,” he bites out. “Those. Why is he asking you about those?”

“Azriel,” Rhys warns lowly. He slides his gaze over to his brother for a second, before it settles back on Thea and he waits.

“It’s fine,” she says to Rhys, waving him off, and then her sole attention is on him and Az can feel the wind get kicked out from under him as she fixes him still. “Eris—” hearing the prick’s name come out of her mouth puts him on edge, “—asked Rhys for information on a certain plant that his father has begun using, and Rhys directed him to me because that’s what I research—”

He cuts her off. “I know what you research, Thea.” Of course he does. He can sit and watch her smash training dummy after training dummy with her impeccable blade skills on those sleepless nights of theirs and happily listen to her talk about medicines and hallucinogens for hours on end. It’s not only useful for when he needs to apply a bit more pressure in the dungeons of the Hewn City, but it’s truly fascinating and the passion in her voice when she speaks is more soothing than any kind of tea Madja has ever given him for headaches. “Why are we providing Eris with access to our scholars?” Her face softens when he calls her that. Scholar. The sight relaxes him, but not enough.

“We aren’t,” Mor says firmly from behind him, still lounging and looking out of the window. 

“Mor—” Thea begins, but Rhys stops her softly.

He addresses both Mor and Az plainly. “I want to know what Beron is doing beyond what Az’s spies can tell us.” It’s not meant as an insult, but it hurts like one, and Rhys sends him an apologetic look. Not a reflection on you, brother. Even Az knows that there are limits to what someone paid to betray their home Court is willing, or able, to provide. “If he’s found a substitute for faebane now that we’re inoculated, we need to be prepared. Eris is giving us information about that whether he thinks he is or not.”

Realisation dawns on Azriel so quickly he’s certain the rest of the room can feel it. He has to shut his jaw before it hangs open for too long. “You’re tricking him.”

Thea, again smiling at him, nods. “In a way, yes.”

Is that pride blooming in his chest?

“I’ve been plying him for as much information as I can get. Obviously, he knows we’re gaining from what he’s telling us, but he thinks the details I’m asking for are just out of curiosity.”

Then… why is this an issue?

He hadn’t said a word, but Mor answers his question anyway. “If you let him into the city,” she snaps, “he wins. You do get that, don’t you?” In her voice is the wet rage of a person who cares too much. It’s righteous rage, after everything that happened to her.

Wait.

Double take.

“Let him into the city? ” he snarls at Rhys, who’s watching for his reaction with a kind of impassive, neutral face. 

Thea sighs beside him. “If we want to understand what it is this plant does,” she says coolly, “I need to see the physical effects of it on the body. Eris is capable of giving me that, and I’m not leaving Velaris to get it.”

The admission knocks him out of his anger so completely that his spiking shadows drop flat to the floor before they whirl up to his shoulders again. Gods, of course she won’t leave the city. Eris has to come to her. She’s a scholar, but a priestess too. The library is her sanctuary and he knows exactly what happened to her for it to have become that. Only he, Mor, and Rhys are aware of the story, Mor actively being the one to bring her to Velaris, and the other two don’t even know that Thea told him one night in the House of Wind. Leaving the library to come here is bravery enough; he’ll physically stop Mor pushing that boundary if he has to.

“Then get someone else to meet with him,” Mor says, and Az understands. Thea, knowing her, will too. It’s an unfair scenario, but he’s already shaking his head at the notion. No one else understands this substance like Thea does, and try as he might to comprehend all of the things she tells him, she’s the expert. The depth of her knowledge would take years to teach someone else so they could perform whatever study she needs to, and by then, Beron might be using this stimulant for something nefarious. They can’t have that.

“He’d stay in the House of Wind, Mor,” Rhys explains kindly. He too gets it, why she’s so irate about it. “He’s not getting anywhere close to the city.”

“Punt him off one of the balconies,” Thea says. “Let me strap him to a table and make him bleed for what he did to you, Mor.” The imagery of that, and Thea being the one to do it, pleases Az more than he cares to admit. “It doesn’t matter to me what happens to him, but only after I’ve wrung every last bit of information out of him. This—” she waves the letter in the air, “—scares me. If it does what I think it does, then we need to know how to combat it as fast as possible.”

Mor swallows, purses her lips, and returns to the window. Az can’t tell if that’s quiet acceptance of Eris’ presence, or angry acceptance of the fact that Rhys is going to let him into the city with or without her approval. Something about that sits uncomfortably in Azriel’s stomach. Willfully ignoring your second-in-command is a bold, if stupid, move.

“What do you think it does?” he asks, noting the real, shaking fear in the way Thea spoke. It’s not something he ever wants to hear again. Even Rhys sits back as he watches her take a breath.

“The classification of it: dissociative stimulant, tells you a lot,” she says. “It stimulates brain function. Makes you forget the limits your body puts your muscles under to stop you tearing yourself in half. Makes you more aggressive, heightens every basic instinct you have. And the dissociative part…”

“You’re out of your mind while it’s affecting you,” he finishes for her.

She makes a little hum of approval. Inappropriately, he stores the sound for a different context. “Hallucinations. Delusions. Totally abnormal emotional responses,” she continues. “Reading between the lines of what Eris says, it has a side effect of making a person more… malleable. Think being controlled by a daemati but you can give it to thousands and thousands of soldiers who won’t feel pain, don’t want to eat, and have no concept of their morals, all without breaking a sweat. Eris—he’s terrified of it.”

Sounds a lot like the Crown, he thinks absently.

Rhys must have caught the thought, because his voice rings in Az’s head. But far worse.

Does Feyre—?

A nod. Thea came here and explained everything to the two of us already. I thought she was going to break the front door off its hinges.

If this weren’t so serious, he’d laugh at the image. Thea went down the ten thousand steps and crossed the city for this, instead of trying to find him or Cassian and ask them to help her. Then again, if she had decided to get him, she’d have found him with his hand around his cock, probably sighing her name, so it’s for the best that she didn’t. Besides, it’s obvious to him that the exertion of the journey hasn’t affected her. She’s wide-eyed. Excited, even. It’s a strange thing to note.

He swallows thickly. Refocuses. He hates everything about this. He hates that Mor is the one who has to bear the brunt of it. He doesn’t want Eris within ten feet, no, ten miles of Thea, and Cassian… Logistically, it doesn’t seem possible. “Cassian will kill him before he even steps foot in the House of Wind. If Eris breathes near Nesta, it’s over before it begins,” he says.

Measured, detached, Rhys replies, “Neither of them will be in the House of Wind when he’s here.”

The plan, Azriel realises, has been set out before he’d even arrived, and he’s just walked Rhys and Thea through it the same way they probably formed it. Clever.

“And you want me to play chaperone,” he concludes, not bothering to ask it as a question. “Again.” Mor perks up at the word, but it’s for Rhys and him to know. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Rhys asks, almost splutters, like he was expecting more pushback.

But it is fine. It’s the only way any of this is fine. If he isn’t there, then Thea has no safety net, and no one would be around to keep Eris in his place. That fucker will try something, he feels it. He’s not about to give Eris unfettered access to her. That sounds like possessiveness, but it isn’t. While they might be training the priestesses in the House of Wind, and though Thea is the best of them, Eris has five-hundred-years of experience and the power of an heir to a Court. So, yeah, he nods, it’s fine. Not good, not okay. Fine. 

To Thea, he asks, “How long do you think you’ll need?”

She shrugs. “A few days, maybe more. I don’t know.” At that, Mor huffs and stands abruptly, walking out without a word, and Thea winces. “That doesn’t feel great,” she says.

“She’ll get over it,” Rhys says carefully as he stares after where she’d disappeared behind the door. Thea offers him a weak smile, like she knows that’s a lie. For Mor, this is an unforgivable situation—but the fact that Feyre agreed to it so readily is a marker of how important it is; it’s probably driven a wedge between them. Family dinners are going to go back to being awkward.

“I think I need to go clear my head.” Thea stands, pushes herself up delicately with her fingers pressing into the leather arms of the chair. “I’ll write to Eris once I’m back at the library,” she tells Rhys. 

“As soon as he—” Rhys starts, but Thea nods.

“I know the plan, Rhys,” she says. “I’ll see you soon.” And then she’s turning to Az and saying, “You still owe me from this morning.” Over the other side of the desk, Rhys’ eyebrows shoot up.

He owes her ten marks because he bet her that she couldn’t nick him in the neck when they sparred after general training was finished with earlier. Usually, when they practice swordplay, the goal for him isn’t to win, it’s to facilitate Thea practicing her skills and keep her reflexes honed. Her goal is, always, to land a hit that grazes his skin, because she’s the only priestess besides Gwyn who has the control to use a blade with a sharp edge. Training swords, he explained to her once, don’t hold the weight of the real thing. So, he ends every morning training session with another mark on himself, usually on his torso, or his arms, occasionally his thighs, but this time, he challenged her, and she rose to meet it. Illyrian healing has made the cut heal over already, but he and Thea know it’s there.

“Do it again tomorrow. Double or nothing,” he says, ignoring the look Rhys is giving him. 

In response, Thea scoffs a laugh. “Deal,” she says, shaking her head at him. “See you later, Az.” She passes by him and her hand twitches like she’s going to run her hands through his hair. She's in the habit of doing that to annoy him, but it doesn't annoy him; he practically keens every time. She restrains herself for Rhys’ benefit and he doesn’t watch her go. When she leaves the room, Az lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

The silence from his brother grates on him.

“Say whatever it is you want to say, Rhys,” he says calmly.

Rhys flicks his eyes between him and the door. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” Az glowers at him, and he sags back into his chair, the final bit of High Lord in him melting away. “I didn’t know you and Thea were…” He looks away, searching for the word. “...close,” is what he settles on—bitingly disapprovingly, but with some reluctance too. 

“She’s my friend,” Az states, because it’s true. His shadows darken around his forearms.

“She’s a priestess,” Rhys says, and it reminds Az of a parent. Now Rhys is a father, he has that stern, paternal tone to him when he’s scolding them like children. 

“So?”

He knows what Rhys is getting at, but, pettily, he wants him to say it. Wants him to admit that he thinks he’s incapable of keeping it in his pants. 

However, Rhys so rarely gives Az what he wants these days, and changes the subject. The warning has been understood regardless.

“Who were you with earlier?” he asks, smirking. “Do we know her?”

Azriel folds his hands in his lap and crosses his legs. He’s never answered that question before, not even if Mor asked him, and he’s not about to start now. “I don’t need you meddling in my sex life, Rhys,” he says, thinking bitterly to himself that he doesn’t actually have one currently, and he has no plans to change it. It’s not that he can’t get one. He could go to Rita’s tonight, be flooded with offers from males and females alike, and he could easily have two at a time; he’s not naïve of that. He’s just not going to, especially since Rita’s makes him nauseous when he’s there alone.

“Forgive me for being curious,” he says. “Cassian tells me you haven’t taken a lover for years.”

Of course Cassian tells you that. Brotherly love extends a long way and it's the reason Azriel doesn’t wring Cass’ neck for being a busybody. “I don’t need Cassian meddling either.”

Rhys runs his tongue along his teeth and relents, throwing his hands up in surrender. “For what it’s worth,” he says, a feline grin gracing his face, “when you do get another lover, it’ll be gratifying to keep him and Nesta up all night in revenge, no?”

That makes Az exhale a little laugh despite himself, and Rhys clearly takes it as a victory. “Maybe,” he says, shrugging. “I was in the middle of something.” He still has a lot of work to do, and now his previous problem is dealt with, he can get back to being efficient about it.

“Go on,” Rhys says, nodding to the door. “Make sure Thea gets back safe, will you?” he adds, but the warning is back in his tone, as if to say do that and don’t dare do anything else.

On the flight back to the House of Wind, he sends his shadows to find her. She’s in The Rainbow, shopping, chatting with vendors. She doesn’t get back for another couple of hours, and he leaves her be while he works.

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[p5buecks]

grind on me

paige bueckers x oc

bathroom stall hook up

cw: smut

hi first smut post so i wanted to keep it pretty chill. let me know what you think and you can also send me requests!

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `

When the opening beat to Grind On Me by Pretty Ricky blasted through the club, there was only one person on my mind. My boyfriend; Caleb. This was our unofficial, official song. We met in a similar setting two years ago and as this exact song played, the brunette boy couldn’t take his eyes off me. As I danced and moved my body to the beat, Caleb watched intently before making his move.

I navigated through the crowd of sweaty, swaying bodies, eyes focused on my boyfriend who was stood with a group of his friends. I could feel myself grinning cheesily and there was no doubt, it was vodka induced. My vision had also significantly blurred since the beginning of the night and despite my steps being cautious and careful, I was still knocking into people. Without saying any words, I pressed my body against Calebs. I moved sensually, the way he liked it. My back pressed into his front and I waited for his hands to find my waist as they usually did but the familiar feeling never came. Instead I felt his flat palm press against my back before his voice muttered into my ear, “Chill, Selene.” I was tipsy and payed no mind and further pushed into Calab, ass directly in his crotch as as my hips moved to the beat.

“I said chill.” Calebs voice was deeper and more intense this time and paired with a slight shove, knocking me off balance, I couldn’t ignore him any longer. “What the fuck Caleb?” I spun around, coming face to face with my boyfriend. “You’re drunk and it’s embarrassing.” Calebs scolds, “You’ve never had a problem before.” I rebuttal, frowning while both hands rested on my hips. “Well, I have an image to keep up and people are looking, so chill.” Calebs eyes narrowed and I was taken aback, he never acted like this, I was caught off guard but I wasn’t about to back down. “I don’t give a damn if people are looking!” I flung my arms up in the air for dramatic effect and raised my voice several decibels higher. If people weren’t looking, they definitely are now.

Despite everyones eyes being on us having a domestic dispute in the middle of a busy club, Caleb had no problem reaching out for my face, holding me under my chin and squeezing my jaw, “Chill the fuck out or go home!” His tone was venomous and I sobered up quick before muttering a sharp ‘fine’ and hurrying away with tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I barged my way to the bathrooms and locked myself in a stall before giving in and letting myself cry. The salty tears made my eyes sting and cheeks wet. I needed to go home.

“Pull yourself together.” I urged myself as I wiped my tear stained face, my makeup was ruined and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I could only agree with my boyfriend. I was drunk and embarrassing. I was an embarrassment to him. I held my hands underneath the cold running water in a hope to ground myself and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, “He’s right.” I whispered.

“He’s a jerk.” A voice other than my own made me realise I was no longer alone in the bathroom and I flicked my eyes open. It took them a minute to adjust to the low lighting but the tall blonde at the door was crystal clear. Whoever she was, she was right. Caleb was a jerk but I wasn’t about to admit that to a total stranger.

I dried my hands, avoiding eye contact, just wanting to leave. “You good?” The blonde spoke again and this time she took a few steps further into the bathroom, closing the space between us. “I’m fine.” My response was short and quick and may have sounded rude, “I’m good. Thank you.” I corrected myself, shooting the girl a tight lipped smile and stepping around her. Our arms brushed each others and I was close enough for her scent to reach me. It was floral and sweet with hints of amber and vanilla. It made me stop in my tracks.

“You not allowed to have fun or sum?” She continued as I reached for the door handle. Everything told me to open the door and walk out. Go home, sober up and apologise profusely to Caleb in the morning but my body betrayed me. I let go of the door handle and turned back around to two artic blue eyes locked on me. Her pupils were dilated ever so slightly and she raised a brow as she awaited my answer.

“I guess not.” Was all I could muster and I leant against the basin. The cold marble cooling my heated skin. “Pretty girl like you should be having all the fun. Want me to go let him know?” Even though there was nothing funny about this situation and I could still taste my salty tears on my lips, I giggled, “It’s good. Don’t want you getting in trouble.” The blonde was now stood in front of me, our height difference glaringly obvious as I looked up at her. “What do you want?” There was a change in her tone, it was lower, more breathy and I suppressed a shiver. “To go home. Forgot about this mess of a night.” I tried my hardest to look away as I spoke, break the eye contact, relieve the tension that was quickly building but I couldn’t. Her hands weren’t on me but this girl had me in a chokehold.

“Forgetting is easy.” She said pushing loose curls off my face causing me to take a sharp intake of breath. Her hands were big but slender and cool against the warmth of my heated skin. “Yeah?” My voice came out croaky but I quickly cleared my throat, it was clear to me what was happening here and maybe I wasn’t thinking straight or maybe I was and just didn’t care but I was as game as she was. “Yeah. But if you need some help, just let me know.”

Two people in one stall was cramped to say the least but with my back pressed up against the wall and the blonde pressed up against me, any thoughts of this being wrong had exited my mind. She was everywhere. Her lips on my lips, then on my jaw, sloppy as they made their way down my neck before nipping at the skin on my chest. “No marks.” I breathed out and I got a chuckled response, “He don’t give a fuck baby.” And her hands that had found home on my hips tightened their grip.

Her knee was nestled perfectly between my legs, pressed firmly against my pulsating cunt and the firmer she pressed, the more I rolled my hips on her.

There were very few words spoken between us before her foot knocked mine apart and she pulled my panties to the side and pushed her fingers inside of me. Her pace was immediately fast and hard and her long fingers had no problem reaching that precise spot that made me gasp out loud. As quick as the sound tumbled from my parted lips, her hand came up to cover my mouth. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know that was a command for me to keep quiet.

She pounded in and out of me with no mercy, her hand having migrated from my mouth to my throat, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. I was quickly losing control and was unable to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I bit down on lip in an attempt to keep my breathy moans captive in my throat but it was pointless and as I whimpered in pleasure the blonde simply smirked at me, a small dimple revealing itself. “What would your boyfriend think if he knew some random had his girl moaning like this?” She asked cockily. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think of a reply. Hell, I couldn’t think of Caleb at all. Not while the wet sound of my arousal filled the small bathroom stall.

“Does he make you moan like this?” No. “Does he make you feel this good?” No. “Do I fuck you better than him?” Yes. But I wasn’t about to admit any of that to the girl I didn’t even know the name of. In an attempt to shut her up, I pressed my lips to hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues fought with each others. Sloppy and heated. I groaned into her mouth as her thumb rubbed soft, tight circles over my clit. “Fuck.” My voice was shaky as I pulled away and my legs almost buckled beneath me as my stomach flipped and contracted as I was worked to the edge. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The blue eyed girl mumbled as she held me firmly in place, against the wall.

With her hand no longer covering my mouth my sordid sounds were no longer being interrupted and my back arched off the wall as my body was overcome with pleasure. “Don’t stop.” I begged as I felt myself clench around the fingers buried inside of me. My skin prickled and my body twitched as I came undone. My head dropped to the taller girls chest and the guttural groan that I let out was damn right sinful.

Breathless and trembling, I whined as her fingers slipped out of me leaving me empty and dripping. I watched with hooded eyes as she took her slick fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what I wanted to say but the moment was harshly interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open.

“Paige! We’re leaving!” I expected both of us to remain silent. Inconspicuous. But the girl in front of me called out back, “Give me two minutes.” At least she had a name now.

Paige fixed my skirt back into position after it had hiked up to my waist and she ran her thumb under my lip, no doubt wiping away smudged lipstick. “For the record, you can grind on me anytime.” And just as quick as she had made me cum, she left me stood alone, heart still racing from my climax.

“Unbelievable.” Whoever had called out for Paige was still in the bathroom so I remained hidden in the stall, “Give me a break, Azzi.” Paige replied and I was quickly met with silence as the two girls exited.

thank u for reading bbys, smooches!

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT.2

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (reo, hiyori, nagi, otoya, yukimiya) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic, hyori is a s*dist! reo's parents don't like you!

a/n: this is the second part!! third part will be rin, isagi, chigiri, barou, oliver, and karasu 😌 i placed them last bc i think they're less likely to film one tbh

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae)

reo mikage:

to be honest, this guy is too decent to have a sex tape. but you guys ended up making two or three videos for two reasons— the first reason is because he had a one month business trip and he was out of the country, so you decided to give him something he'd love to see from time to time. second, it's because he wanted to get back to his parents for trying to set him up for another woman while he had a girlfriend, you. that time, he let all his frustrations out, bending you over while kissing your neck, jackhammering you from behind.

when your phone got lost, you didn't think that much of it. reo got you a new one. until one day, your name made it to the headlines. the video you taped with reo, him taking you roughly from behind, was all around the internet. the slicking sounds, the purple hair… it's all there.

you already felt humiliated by the public. reo was comforting you with kisses and even bought you a luxury bag in an attempt to comfort you. he also booked a private plane for the both of you to get away with problems for a while. his pr staff also tried to fix damage control by deleting all copies of it around the internet and tracking whoever posted it. he was caught just within the day. 

that didn't stop reo's mother from getting mad tho. while you guys were away, she called you to tell that you should stay away from her son. when reo heard this, he immediately grabbed the phone from you and tossed it on the bed, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“just stop using that phone right now and pay attention to me. also, don't mind whatever my mom tells you. you're the only one for me… and now, the whole world knows that.” 

hiori yo: 

this guy looks innocent. but don't get fooled. he's a fucking sadist. he'll beat that pussy up and he just knows the right way to do it. you'll have two to three sex tapes per month, and all of them shows how rough he could be on you. when you try to shy away from the camera, he'll hold your jaw so people could see how you look while he hits it from behind.

when your phone got lost, hiyori was the one who brought up those tapes. and he was so calm when he mentioned it, as if he doesn't have a reputation to protect as a part of a huge football team. the next few days, your name made it to the news and the video of you with your legs up to his shoulders while you were moaning his name loudly was everywhere on the internet. 

when you started being humiliated by the public, hiyori tried to comfort you. he bought you some ice cream and cuddled with you. you apologized for not taking care of your belongings but he accepted it. he even made a public apology to those who have seen it. suddenly, while you were cuddling, something hard poked between your thighs.

“oi, y/n. ya think that would go unpunished? a lot of people have seen how much of a dirty girl ya are, and i thought ya were for my eyes only.” 

nagi seishiro

i'll be pretty honest. this guy only did the sex tape because he was going to be away for a while to train overseas. and he only had one.

it wasn't even you all over his cock. it was you suckin him sloppily while he's all laid back playing with his ps5. your skirt was riding up your ass and only your face can be seen on the camera. while nagi's voice can be heard in the background telling how good you take his cock. his low voice is recognizable, and his moans were heard too. but what made him recognized the most is that you called him ‘sei’ and ‘seishiro’ in the video.

his management immediately told him to deny being part of that vid. but nagi refused to. instead, he issued an apology to the public. he'd rather take the blow rather than publicly admitting that you're a cheater. he even said that it was all his idea but did not emphasize how it happened.

nagi was pretty nonchalant about things. what's the fuss all about if the public already knew you were together? but when he saw how pretty affected you are, boi threw his hands to comfort you. he immediately bought some flowers and decided on a romantic dinner night— which ends up with the both of you playing mario kart or tekken. 

“i might look just cool on the outside but i'm kinda worried about you, babe. you need to get out of our room. let's spend some time together, okay? also, you weren't just fucking anyone. you were fucking me, babe. and i’m not just anyone.” 

otoya eita

this guy is another menace. of course he's going to have a damn sex tape cuz he's the type to parade all the girls he's rizzed on. so you guys end up recording your sex most of the time, unless it's a spontaneous one. 

when you lost your phone, you didn't think that much of it. until you saw eita looking at his phone for too long and staring at the screen. you thought he was about to follow another girl again so you grabbed it, but you saw his twitter timeline containing the one video you took with him a few months ago. you dropped his phone with a shocked face. 

you guys ended up arguing because otoya didn't take it as much of a big deal. you were literally telling him, yelling at his face, to make an apology but he didn't want to. he literally said, “why would i be sorry for fucking my own girlfriend?” you almost threw a chair at him. deep inside, he's just proud of himself. 

in the end, you ended up giving him the silent treatment, which for him, is worse than an argument with you. so he apologized with flowers, decorated your room, ordered a champagne, prepared a nice dinner— all that with rose petals on the bed and a fine massage from him. 

“fine babe. you know i hate it when you ignore me like that. i'll make it up to you okay? let me all do the work tonight and just lay on the bed.” 

yukimiya kenyu (i took so much pleasure in this) 

this guy is a closeted freak. he looks like a good boy but on the bed… he really does well. you wondered where he learned those things from when he looked so prim and proper. he loves to explore and recording a sex tape is one of the things that he wanted to try. you also agreed because you wonder if your boyfriend would still look good on the camera, even when in a pussy-drunken state. and you know the answer to that? of course he did. he looked very hot. 

when you lost your phone, the first one to actually worry is him. he immediately thought of the videos that may come out, especially your sex tapes with him. yukimiya immediately reminded you of that, but you were so complacent and didn't think of that possibility. well, he was right. and your names were written all over the social media. 

being respectful and having a good public image, yukimiya immediately apologized and let out a statement, telling people in detail what happened— how your phone got stolen and how it's suddenly uploaded by an anonymous. he even said that his management will take proper measures to track the person behind it and stuff. 

at the end of the day, what happened between you is a comfort-fest on the bed. you both snuggled together, while you cried in yukimiya's arms, telling him how much you feel humiliated. he just kept kissing your forehead while continuing to cuddle with you. 

“i know, y/n. it's an embarrassing thing, okay? but we're all just humans who make mistakes. we just have to be careful next time, okay? i love you.” 

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ wait for your love

nanami kento x fem!reader

exhusband!nanami who was your best friend since high school. you met during your 2nd year when he was getting teased for being a loser and you defended him. he stayed close to you after and has been close to you ever since.

exhusband!nanami who was forced to come with you to all the parties that you were too shy to go to. he never minded being your DD, as long as he knew you were safe then he didn't care about not being able to drink.

exhusband!nanami's parents had always nagged him to find someone after he graduated university. he took over his dad's company and as happy as his parents were, they wanted a daughter in law! he hated all the set ups his mom made him go to so he came to you with a proposition — get married to him for a few years to make his parents happy and he'll give you however much money you wanted. you needed the money he was offering so you accepted. the wedding was small and intimate with only your close friends and some family members.

exhusband!nanami worked his ass off ever since you accepted his proposal. even if it was just a marriage of convenience, he wanted to make sure you lived happily with him.

exhusband!nanami was the perfect husband. he was attentive, loving, and always spoiled you with everything you could ever want. the ladies in your neighbourhood loved him, wishing that their husbands were a fragment of what nanami is.

exhusband!nanami spent almost 5 years of marriage in bliss with you until you started pulling away. he never pushed you to talk though because he knew you were going through something. so he waited until you were ready to talk to him.

exhusband!nanami who felt in the dark when he was served with divorce papers. he was busy with paperwork, not bothering to look up at whoever was knocking on his office door. it wasn't until the manila envelope was placed on top of his desk that he looked up to see whoever served him.

exhusband!nanami wanted at least an answer before he signs the papers. you just told him the most vague answers. "I feel like we've grown apart" "we want different things in life" "I just can't do this anymore" he was confused with every reason that you gave.

exhusband!nanami couldn't wrap his head around the separation. he thought everything was going well but once he signed the papers to finalize the divorce, he felt the weight of losing you come all at once.

exhusband!nanami who hated being with anyone else but you. even if it did start out as a loveless marriage, he fell for you hard throughout the years. every "I love you" he's ever said, he's meant it. every kiss, every hug, nanami was surprisingly a good actor but he could never fake the affection he felt for you.

exhusband!nanami despises coming home. it was eerily empty and quiet, the sound of his footsteps were the only thing he could hear. he frequently thinks about moving away to get his mind away from you but he can't. he stays at the same place you've always know where he's been just in case you ever come back.

exhusband!nanami started drinking and smoking to waste his time. he rarely drank during college and he only did during parties with you. now that you're gone, he's turned to his vices. he knows that you hate the smell of cigarettes and you hate people who couldn't handle their alcohol but why does it matter if you're not with him anymore?

exhusband!nanami still remembers every little detail about you. no matter how hard he tried, he could never forget you and everything about you. you're the love of his life even if you don't feel the same about him.

exhusband!nanami felt like everything stopped when he saw you again on the street. you're still as beautiful as ever. your hair's longer and you've changed your style, but other than that you're still his pretty ex wife.

exhusband!nanami breathlessly greeted you back when you came up and said hi to him first. he thought you would've ignored him and just went along your way, but you stayed. your eyes stare up at him as you watch him fumble over his words. his heart skips faster as he sees you grin over his flustered state.

exhusband!nanami watches you leave after catching up. he wishes that it lasted a minute longer because for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can breathe properly again.

exhusband!nanami starts sobering up and taking care of himself. he threw away the bottles of alcohol and cigarettes packs so that he can get away from feeling sorry for himself. if he ever sees you again, he wants to impress you (and make you regret your decision).

exhusband!nanami is shocked when he sees your face on the doorbell camera. the weather was relentless and he sees you shivering in the cold so he opens his door immediately. he hands you a change of warm clothes and turns up the thermometer of the house. 

while he's making hot tea for the both of you, he notices the bathroom door open and out you step, his clothes basically engulfing your body. nanami looks away, trying and failing to get rid of his lewd thoughts.

"sorry those are the only clothes I have that could fit you." nanami apologizes but you shook your head. "no don't be! if anything I should apologize for inconveniencing you."

nonsense, nanami thinks, you could never bother me.

nanami disregards his thoughts, "don't worry about that, I'm just glad to get you out of that snowstorm."

he hands you a cup of tea and you take notice of the mug he has in his hand. you think out loud, "you kept that mug?"

"hmm?" nanami glances up at you then to the cup, "oh yeah. how could I throw it away? you made it for me."

"but that was back in high school."

"and? I've kept everything you've ever given me." nanami cooly responded.

you kept quiet as you take sips of the tea he made for you. the taste is familiar until you remember — he made your favourite tea, just the way you like it. you dart your eyes between the tea and the blond man.

why is he like this? why is he still making your heart flutter after all this time? you wanted to get away but you couldn't, not until the storm calms down. the news reported that it'll continue until early in the morning meaning you'll have to stay inside — with him. knowing nanami, he would never let you out because he still worries for your safety.

sleepiness was creeping up on you as you both sat in the living room. nanami sees your head bobbling through his peripheral and offers you the guest room that you promptly accepted. he leaves you be, letting you explore the home that is exactly the same as when you used to live in it.

nanami laid in his bed, moving constantly to find a comfortable position enough to fall asleep. but he couldn't.

the only thing in his mind was you who was only a few doors down away from him. were you sleeping soundly or do you feel as insomnolent as him? he wants to get up and check on you but he restrains himself. with the wind blowing, all he can hear is the rage of the snowstorm hitting the windows of the house.

nanami directs his attention from the windows to the knocking of the door. "nanami? are you awake?"

he instructs for you to come in, the light from the hallway seeps into the darkness of his bedroom. he sits up and taps the space in front of him on his bed to tell you to come sit there. "why are you still awake?"

"couldn't sleep after I got into bed. you?" you wonder as you go to sit on his bed. he chuckles, "same. do you wanna talk? I remember you used to fall asleep to me talking."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget?"

you lift your legs to place them onto the bed and cross them, wrapping your arms and pulling your knees onto your chest. "why do you still remember everything about me?"

"I was your best friend before I was your husband. even if I wanted to forget, everything about you is engrained in me." his hand moves up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "you were my first and my last, it'll be that way till I die."

"you're so dumb," you mumble into your arms, "I divorced you and you still treat me so well."

nanami grasps your wrist and brings you to his lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. he kisses your temple softly. "does that bother you?"

"I don't know," you confess. nanami exhales before he changes the topic. "if we're being honest, can you finally tell me now why you wanted a divorce?"

you shook your head. "not really, you might hate me."

"I won't." nanami reassures, "just be honest with me dear."

you sigh.

"the marriage was feeling too real."

nanami's expression twists into confusion.

"it was an agreement between us that if one day one of us wanted to stop, we will," you continue, "and one day, I thought about it. there's going to be a day you come up to me and maybe you'll tell me that you found someone else. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to lose you but we've already gone so far. I figured it was best for me to leave before that day does come.

"you'll never have to worry about that," nanami tightens his arms around you, "it's always been you."

you hugged him back, the scent of his cologne intensifies as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. "can we start over? but for real this time."

"we don't need to start over," nanami places a kiss on the top of your head, "we can just pick up where we left off."

as soon as the storm stopped, husband!nanami takes you to city hall to sign a new marriage certificate.

husband!nanami makes sure to treat you right this time. if you think that the act he was putting up was good, then nanami not having to hide his feelings is better. he's not one to shy away from physical affection in public as he always wants to hold your hand or stay very close to you.

husband!nanami who will always reassure you that he'll never leave. you are the light of his life, the reason he wants up everyday. he'll never take a day with you granted.

husband!nanami finds it adorable when you watch over the neighbour's daughter. he'll wait until her parents pick her up and then he'll bring up the thoughts that's been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"honey, what do you think about starting a family?"

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

as per usual, not proofread!! ◡̈

[ellesreids]

warm reception — s. reid

you finally meet some of spencer's colleagues in an unconventional way. very heavily implied towards earlier seasons reid.

──── ୨୧ ────

It's been an exhaustingly busy day; the team was working a local case, meaning no long-distance traveling was required, but that didn't make the case itself any easier. They weren't very close to a solid profile, and it felt like the unsub's MO changed with every attack.

The most recent has been at a university not far from headquarters, a young woman found dead inside the main quad. It was also the same university you went to, and if that wasn't already enough to unnerve Spencer, you not answering his calls were close to pushing him over the edge.

Spencer feels like he's been on his feet the whole day, and he feels like he hasn't been much help to anyone with his mind wholly preoccupied by his concern for you. He wondered if you were safe, if you were the one that discovered the body, if you were maybe close to the victim.

The team had some of the victim's friends and other witnesses brought in for questioning, and while they were busy with that, Spencer had been quietly working on the geographical profile to try and pinpoint where the unsub might strike next. His attention is drawn from the map in front of him when he hears his name called, only to find you standing next to Morgan, seemingly making your way from one of the interrogation rooms.

He drops everything curtly before making his way to you, quickly giving you a once over, and once he sees no visible damage, he calms down a bit. It doesn't completely eliminate the nerve wrecking anxiety, but it gives him some peace of mind that you atleast hadn't been hurt.

"Hey, are you okay? What are you doing here?" he rushes out, not really giving you time to process his questions. "I'm okay," you breathe, sparing him a small smile you hoped looked somewhat reassuring, "I wasn't at the crime scene, I was only brought in for questioning because I was one of Kathy's long term lab partners. Nothing serious I suppose," you add, sparing Morgan a look, who was still standing next to you and silently observing the scene unfolding infront of him.

"I'm sorry, you two know each other?" he asks, looking at you and then Spencer with a raise of his eyebrows. You nodded once his eyes were on you again, suddenly shy under his questioning gaze. "We're dating," you said with a small smile, watching as the shock took over Morgan's whole face, from his eyebrows shooting up into the sky to his mouth hanging slightly agape at your words.

"Dating, huh?" he asked, watching as you nodded again. "Well, how come you never told us you had a pretty girl waiting for you at home, Reid?" he asked, attention back on the now furiously blushing young man. "It's— it's fairly new," he stuttered, trying his best to look collected, and failing miserably. "I was going to tell you, eventually."

Spencer was right, the two of you had only been dating for a little less than two months, and as selfish as it may sound, he was planning on keeping you to himself for a little longer. Morgan shook his head in understanding and slight disbelief, a gentle hand coming up to pat your back. "Well, it's nice to finally meet pretty boy here's girlfriend, even under the circumstances," he said, and you hummed in agreement, giving him a warm smile.

"Are my ears deceiving me or did I just hear you refer to this young lady as Reid's girlfriend?" a bubbly voice came seemingly out of nowhere as Penelope appeared next to Spencer, curious eyes drifting over to you and Morgan. "You heard right," he smiled, "this is—"

"Penelope Garcia," she interjects, shaking your hand, and you notice how everything about her is so vibrant. From her prettily painted nails, to the colorful frames of her glasses and the many statement pieces that adorned her, like the bows and the chunky jewelry. She was like the embodiment of sunshine.

"Gosh, you're gorgeous! It is so nice to meet you, even if I'm just now finding out about you," she said, side eyeing Spencer, who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. "We should totally go out for drinks some time though, a formal introduction is way overdue," she added very matter-of-factly.

"I agree," you smiled, already taking a liking to her sweet and bubbly personality. "I'd love to hang out and get to know Spencer's colleagues."

"I'm already excited!" she said, bracelets chiming as she clapped her hands together. "Oh! We should have a girls night! You'll love Elle and JJ, we could—"

"Okay, I think we should give these lovebirds some space, babygirl. You can plan your girl's night some other time," Morgan chirped in, already throwing his arm around Garcia and leading her away. "You'll be okay seeing her out, right Reid?" he asked and Spencer nodded, already leading you to the door with a hand to the small of your back.

"They seem nice," you said, once you were out of earshot, hovering around the exit not yet ready to leave yet. "They are nice," Spencer smiled before his face morphed into an unreadable expression. "I hope you don't think I was trying to hide you from them," he spoke softly, "I really was going to tell them about you when the time was right."

"I understand," you smiled, squeezing his upper arm affectionately, "I am glad I finally got to meet them though. Some of them at least." He smiled at that, nodding as if deep in thought. The flurry of movement behind him caught your attention, making you giggle to yourself at the sight. "I think you're needed back at your desk," you said, prompting Spencer to turn around swiftly, scared that it might be Gideon or Hotch waiting for him. It wasn't, but it was a group of very curious agents gathering around his desk in hopes of catching another glimpse of the mystery girl.

You recognized Penelope, who seemed to be in the middle of telling a very interesting story to the blonde and brunette ladies that stood either side of her. The brunette's eyes caught yours, her sparing you a shy smile at being caught before she was swiftly dispersing everyone away from Spencer's desk and back to their respective stations.

"I'll see you tonight," you said, bringing Spencer's attention back to you. When you saw the coast was clear, non of his colleagues in close range anymore, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, watching the way his ears tinged pink almost immediately, making you smile. He only nodded in reply, giving you a tight lipped smile and seeing you off with a small wave which you returned eagerly.