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parfaitblogs · 6 months ago

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making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu

Alcohol is a depressant.

You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night.

You knew that.

You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone.

The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel.

Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.

Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care.

Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged.

You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways.

"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could.

"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"

An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."

He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Yes. Please?"

"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"

"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."

"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"

"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better.

"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."

"Mm."

Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too."

No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it.

True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating.

"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist.

"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.

The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't.

The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed.

It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.

You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament.

You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements.

He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well.

"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.

"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"

He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"

"That'll just distract me."

"Is that what you want?"

You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters.

"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."

His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere.

"Sorry," you mumble.

"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"

"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."

"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.

"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort.

"Yeah, probably. That's fine."

You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.

"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."

He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.

He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly.

"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."

"You already talk a lot."

His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."

"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."

"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?"

"My friends will think I'm boring, then."

He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"

"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"

"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"

Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that.

Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."

You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry.

"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face.

"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."

"I'm sober," you protest, weakly.

"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."

"I don't think they will either."

He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more.

"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.

"You've caught me."

He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again.

"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile.

He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."

"I know."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

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vandijkwrites · 1 year ago

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sorry if you've already answered this 700 times, in which case totally feel free to ignore. but how do you lengthen your attention span? is it as simple as watching/reading progressively longer things?

First of, I am by no means an expert, but I'm happy to help as much as I can! There are a lot of great articles, books, and podcasts on the topic if you want any further info.

The most important thing to realize is why are attention spans are getting worse:

Information overload and distractions make it difficult to focus. (Ex. social media and text notification going off while you are doing other tasks)

Intentional multitasking gets your brain used to doing more than one thing at once so it becomes very difficult to make it do only one thing (Ex. having the tv on in the background while doing other tasks)

Consuming a lot of media focused on having minimal downtime and immediate gratification decreases our patience and ability to do slower tasks (Ex. watching a lot of action packed movies and short TikToks)

Getting constant small hits of dopamine from social media decreases our ability to do tasks that don't give us dopamine hits (Ex. getting likes from a post or messages from friends)

The solutions to most of these come down to two things: (1) Do only one thing at a time (2) Limit distractions from that task (3) Reduce immediate gratification

So some example of ways to do that would be:

Read a book without your phone being on hand to distract you.

Watch TV without multitasking.

Reduce time on social media, especially social media focused on short videos.

Spend a day or part of a day without technology.

Spend time with friends without looking at your phone.

Watch slow-form content like unedited lecture or panel videos where people are just speaking at their normal pace without cutting pauses.

Listen to music albums all the way through instead of shuffling and skipping.

Eat meals without multitasking (ie mindful eating)

Make yourself a cup of tea and sit on a park bench or by the window and watch some birds.

People-watch at the coffee shop.

Write long emails or letters to friends and family instead of short texts.

Call and have a conversation with a loved one without multitasking.

Meditate.

Take a walk and enjoy nature.

Don't scroll through your phone while waiting in a line.

Read long posts when you come across them on your dashboard.

Have an ebook on your phone to read whenever you would normally scroll through social media.

Don't go on your phone/online for a certain amount of time before bed.

If you are having trouble doing these things, try to do one tasks but increase the stimuli of that task. For example, read a book while listening to the audiobook at the same time. Or listen to music while watching a lyric video. These are great baby steps!

Another great baby step is (like you said in your question) doing things for progressively longer amounts of time! Set a timer for a certain number of minutes and then read without distraction for that amount of time. That way it won't feel like it is never ending and you can track your progress.

Obviously not all of these will be for everyone and some of these are too hard for people with ADHD or serious attention issues, but they are a good place to start!

I hope that helps 💕

#my text posts #my replies

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misserabella · 1 year ago

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two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

1K notes · View notes

facefullofsadness · 10 months ago

Text

she said "fuck me like I'm famous" I said "okay"

model!au

designer!giselle x assistant!reader

prompt - working as aeri uchinaga's assistant makes it hard for you to keep up, maybe in more ways than one

content - smut (power dynamic, pet names/praise kink, sloppy and desperate kinda rough sex, a lot of sucking (fingers, boobs, necks/marking), fingering, tribbing, possessive/corruption kink, a little hair pulling, squirting, multiple rounds/orgasms), alcohol consumption, exposition and tension building

wc - 8165

a/n - I was held at GUNPOINT to write "nda giselle" so here we are! worked diligently on this one so pls enjoy it o7!!! (please dear god I'm begging you)

- consider it my 800 follower special (even though I was supposed to write a 500 follower one but here we are <3, tysm for everything)

- OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A MONTH IM FREE

- additionally, dopamine is sooooo this fic coded but it's UNRELEASED YEW MFS SM ENTERTAINMENT I HATE YOU-!

an overwhelming rush of noise fills my ears as soon as I enter the busy dressing room.

I knew working as famous model and designer aeri uchinaga's assistant was gonna be loaded, but my first day on the job being the same day as one of miss uchinaga's bi-annual fashion show was not expected. I had to push through an uncountable amount of stylists, designers, assistants, coordinators, and makeup artists to make it to miss uchinaga's personal private dressing room, which was crowded in it of itself, even if she was the only model in that room.

she's famous for having the most grand fashion shows, especially the shows showcasing her summer and winter collections which she hosts twice every year for her designer brand, one around the start of the summertime, and one before the winter season, such as this one today. she spends months preparing for it every year, so it's even a wonder how it was possible for me to show up out of the blue so suddenly, literally on the day of one of the most important days of her year.

"you, rookie, did you bring the earrings set I asked of you?" the assertive voice of a man working on sorting through jewelry asks me, not even looking up from his work.

I stumble through the crowd of people to get to him, fishing the small box containing the earrings out of my bag.

"yessir, I fetched them this morning," I hand him the jewelry. he hums, snatching the box out of my hand to check the contents, continuing on with his sorting without even looking up at me.

"hey you, did you coordinate with the production crew about the lights? those things are important," a woman with a headset and a clipboard approached me.

"ah yes miss, they said they'd readjust the color to a cooler tone," I reply, nodding my head.

"good," a simple response before turning away and scurrying off.

"where's that fucking assistant- you! are you miss uchinaga's assistant?" an aggressive voice calls out for me near the vanity table.

I whip my head around and hurry over, "yessir, I'm her new assistant!"

he groans in annoyance and side eyes me, "whatever, took you long enough. get the hairdryer quickly we don't have all day."

I nod furiously before searching the room overloaded with items for said hairdryer, looking through the cart of hair and makeup equipment.

I hurried back to him and handed over the instrument before commotion increased, a firm and loud voice announcing, "miss uchinaga to proceed with hair and makeup!"

suddenly, the aforementioned lady herself exits a black curtain from across the room, adorning a beautiful black dress that hugs her figure perfectly, lacey sleeves flowing down her arms, her curves accentuated gorgeously.

a lump gets stuck in my throat as she sways her way towards the director's chair propped in front of the vanity. I lower my gaze and bow my head slightly as she passes by me, the breeze that follows her strut hitting my frozen-still body and making my breath hitch in anxiety. she comfortably sits herself down in the black chair, barely noticing my presence.

"hellooooo? rookie? get a fucking grip!" a female voice snaps me out of my trance accompanied by loud clapping in front of my face. "pay attention! can you get the goddamn hand mirror?"

"yes of course, I'm sorry miss!" I nervously pick at my fingers and push through the crowd again, rummaging through the cart for the item she requested.

"god how useless, why did you even choose her boss?" the same stylist gossips towards miss uchinaga.

"choose who? what are you talking about?" her graceful and soft voice replies nonchalantly.

"that nobody over there, searching through the cart like a homeless person in a dumpster, so gross..." the stylist continues, my stomach churning at the vile words.

miss uchinaga hums unsurely, "be more specific on who you're talking about, I don't have time for useless banter."

the stylist clears her throat, "your, assistant, I guess if that's what you can call whoever that thing is."

my hands clench into fists at the vicious comments she keeps making until miss uchinaga says, "she's here for a reason isn't she? means she's qualified."

the short and simple response shuts the stylist up quickly, returning to her work. I reluctantly hand the mirror over to her, her grip aggressive as she snatches the item from my hand. and I continue to meet the demands of the people in the busy room, running back and forth fetching things for people and assisting in helping everyone as best as I could.

it had to have been at least two hours of constant movement and working, everyone in that room not stopping for even a second. eventually, all the work that needed to be done was finished and we all had to proceed to the stage and start the show. I was tasked to stay behind and wait for miss uchinaga as her assistant, ready to help her with anything she needed.

and so gradually, the room had cleared of all the people, leaving an unfamiliar silence to hang in the air, my ears almost ringing from the emptiness. I stood there nearly in the middle of the room, feet glued to the floor and my head hanging down, eyes affixed onto my shoes. only but the soft rustling movement of the woman in front of me was faintly heard.

her melodious humming filled the room warmly, a comfortable tune dancing off her lips as she touched herself up and checked her appearance. I continue to accompany her and leave her to do her own thing, more focused on the carpet under where I stand.

"hey, come here will you?" the soft sounding but firm request summons me forward, moving to stand behind her chair.

"m-miss uchinaga?" I curse under my breath at the stutter, embarrassed by it.

she seemingly dismisses the mistake and continues, "you're my new assistant, aren't you?"

I gain enough confidence to lift my gaze and look at her through the mirror, the woman still diligently observing herself, "yes miss, I am."

"what's your name then assistant?" she fixes her hair one last time and adjusts her jewelry before turning and facing me, leaning back against the vanity with her arms crossed.

"y/n l/n miss..." my gaze falters under her intense stare, eyes falling towards the floor again.

her hum in curiosity makes my eyes shoot back up towards her face.

"huh." she hums, observant gaze trailing my figure, up and down slowly.

I feel small under her stare, wanting to curl up and let the earth swallow me whole, feeling like aeri uchinaga is tearing me apart bit by bit with her critical eyes.

instead, a small but obvious smirk tugs at her lips, "cute."

a furious blush climbs my cheeks and spreads across my face at her quick insignificant comment that still had made my heart swell and increase the speed at which it beat.

before any more words could be exchanged, she pushes herself off the table, handing her phone and keys to me, "you're with me, stand backstage and just watch, drive me home after."

I put her items into my bag and nod, following her out of the room and towards the stage. a cacophony of sounds fill the room once again as we hurriedly make our way there, people scrambling around with last minute touch-ups on their models.

the production crew checks in with miss uchinaga, confirming the setup of the stage from the lights to the props, as well as the flow of the show and every other detail she demanded information on. I stand right behind her and listen in, making sure if she needs anything I'd be ready to assist. they finish their discussion swiftly, the crew rushing back to their stations and miss uchinaga ushering the two of us towards an empty area with a clear view of the stage, the audience members sitting around and chatting having been in sight as well.

"you get the princess treatment for today pretty," she turns to me, a pleased look on her face.

the clutch on my bag hardens at her soft words, feeling my face heat up, "th-thank you, miss uchinaga…"

"y/n, call me aeri," her voice is gentle but low as she tells me what to do.

I stutter in response, "but, miss uchinaga, I'm- I'm not… I don't think it's that appropriate y-yet…"

"please y/n, we're gonna be together for a while so you should get used to saying my name, darling," she takes the smallest step towards me, her presence towering over me.

I feel her stare drill holes into my soul, her intimidating aura overwhelming me. she traps me when I look up into her eyes, unable to move my sight away from her. my stomach fills with butterflies, the beautiful goddess before me having such an alluring air to her. even in this crowded venue, filled to the brim with busy people, they're all tuned out, feeling like me and her were the only two to exist in this moment.

fuck, how am I supposed to work with her?

"got that, cutie?" the pet names continuing to make me want to implode.

I swallow and nod pathetically, "mhm."

"say my name then, pretty," she demands, her siren-like eyes searing my skin.

"a-aeri…"

"good girl, y/n."

oh my god, what the fuck.

"miss uchinaga!" a voice calls for her, snapping me out of the trance she put me under.

the woman in front of me huffs and turns towards the man with a headset that had poked his head into the room, searching for her.

"miss, you're on soon," he pants, motioning for her to get moving.

she raises her eyebrows and nods slightly at him in approval, shooing him away before she turns back to me.

"enjoy the show okay?" her tone is calm and comforting, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder and patting me, giving it a final squeeze, strutting away after I nod my head at her request.

the clicking of her heels fades and once she's completely out of sight, I release a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. I clutch at my heart, bunching up the material of my sweater, feeling it beat out of my chest. my head is dizzy and my shoulder burns, the effect and touch she had on me still lingering, feeling my knees buckle at the mere thought of her, leaning back against a nearby wall for stability.

though I didn't have long to recover as the lights on the stage dimmed and the runway lit up, whispering from backstage heard faintly as music starts, the first model swaying their way onto the catwalk. I try my best to ignore the pounding of my heart as aeri uchinaga's winter collection is displayed on the models that walk across the stage.

the outfits are beautiful, stylish coats and jackets adorning the range of models, the clothes all dark colors but still with a certain attractive charm. arrangements of sweaters, slacks, and bags that compliment every outfit perfectly, each piece meticulously and specifically picked out to match each other. I'm mesmerized by the variety of fashion that these models are crowned in, aeri and her team's hard work apparent with the quality and effort put into every thread.

I become so engrossed and enamored by the show, that as soon as it starts does it end, the last of the models strutting off the stage finally as the winter collection showcase concludes. the music continues however, aeri suddenly appearing, swaying her way into the middle of the runway as the audience applauds. her ethereal aura palpable, presence so grand even while she's simply walking. making it to the center, she gives the audience a graceful bow, a charming smile, and an elegant wave before turning and sashaying off the stage once again.

mid my own applause does aeri emerge from the curtain separating me and the main part of the backstage area, pushing her curtain bangs out of her face with her fingers.

"how was it, princess?" she asks genuinely, tilting her head to the side as she awaits my answer.

my heart begins to pound once again, feeling like she really wanted to hear my honest opinion.

"not that how I think matters-" she immediately interrupts me.

"why wouldn't it? you're practically becoming my second-in-command, I wanna know how you think, see how truly compatible we are."

a sweet smile emerges onto her cherry colored lips, eyes and expression expectant for my response.

I nervously reply, "that's... really thoughtful of you, a-aeri."

her soft giggle permeates through the small space, my chest thumping at the sound, "don't mention it, just tell me how you feel."

"well, I think it was truly excellent," I state confidently.

her face looks pleased, but she looks as if she was waiting for more details, and so I continue, "the color palate was so tasteful, you and the brand have always been good at darker colors, I know that's your specialty. though they can be perceived as dull, it was so masterfully crafted that it didn't feel boring in the slightest. it was even elevated if I can say, accessories perfectly matching with each outfit, from the jewelry to the bags, incredible."

I got so lost in my enthusiasm about the display that I had practically spaced out, unaware to the joyous woman in front of me. looking back at her, an excited expression lay on her face, cheeks plump and smile wide watching as I rambled. her crescent eyes smiled at me, hair falling perfectly around her face and resting at her shoulders, just so beautifully happy.

feeling flustered, I stutter, "oh! I uhh, didn't mean to ramble so much, miss uch- a- aeri... I apologize."

"don't, I like it," whispering simply.

under her heart-throbbing stare, I look away, "we-well! we must get going, there's still your after party to attend."

she groans, "ughhh, fuck the after party, I don't care. too tired anyway, bossing people around all day to get things right is exhausting."

I return my gaze back towards the bored-looking woman, "but this is still your event, it might be strange if you're absent."

"why, are you gonna stop me? hm doll?" her eyes are lethal staring into me.

"m-miss... all I'm saying is the people might be disappointed... I can't stop whatever you'd like to do however, you're the boss of course..."

"mhm, and don't forget that okay? you listen to me," aeri's tone is firm and dangerous, dripping with authority but also sensuality, suddenly appearing almost right against me.

she crosses an arm over her chest and rests her other arm's elbow on it, her free hand slowly pointing a finger at my wide-eyed expression.

"got that, darling?" she uses the stray digit to tilt my head up, placing it under my chin, her touch igniting a fire on my skin.

I pathetically hum in response, sounding closer to a terrified squeak more than anything.

"you listen so well, don't you?" she smiles almost sinisterly, taking her fingertip and tapping it cutely on my nose.

she steps back slightly, giving me space again to which I release a deep breath, feeling like I can breathe.

aeri sighs annoyedly, "but you're right, my absence at my OWN show's after party is peculiar, but I don't wanna go. truly too exhausted for it. let's go home."

"I'll have to inform the organizers that you won't be attending. some important individuals were hoping to talk to you tonight," I respond, ever-so-slightly gaining back my composure.

"mm-mm, don't stress yourself about it," she shakes her head, resting her hands on her hips, "I'll shoot them a text and make the team send out packages with letters of me apologizing for it, no big deal."

"still aeri, I have to organize that-"

"I told you already y/n-ie, I got it, don't worry."

I let her win, a serious and unmoving expression on her face, "alright."

she gives a slight nod of approval, suddenly taking my hand gently, holding me by my fingers and leisurely dragging the two of us off. I let her guide me, aeri saying her goodbyes and goodnights to the hard-working team, telling certain individuals she would be contacting them in a bit to inform them of her absence. she leads me through the entire venue, seemingly having the most inconspicuous route to her car memorized, avoiding as many people as possible.

we arrive at the parking garage, her matte black sports car emerging into view.

"I'm driving?" I ask hesitantly.

she hums in approval, "never driven something like this before have you?"

the nervous nature apparent in my tone of voice, "that obvious?"

a giggle echoes through the garage full of expensive, high-end vehicles, "no worries darling, just think of a normal car with a bit more kick."

she was right, I had never driven such an expensive and sleek looking vehicle before, nervous to the possibility that I could damage it, especially knowing it was aeri's car.

it was almost as if she read my mind, "I have at least a handful more that you can crash, it's no problem if it gets damaged."

I choke and cough, "I'd hope I wouldn't get into a car crash!"

she turns and smiles at me, arriving in front of the vehicle, "you won't, of course you won't."

I reluctantly nod, dragging myself over and opening the passenger side's door, aeri climbing in with a small grin. I close the door, making my way over to the driver's seat, trying to breathe and calm my nerves. I settle into the custom printed leather seats, dark red embroidery stitched into the pristine interior, a fresh and clean smell wafting through the car.

"it is a ferrari though, so maybe don't damage it," she comments quietly, looking over at the woman whose legs are crossed and hands placed neatly on her lap, head leaning back against the seat with her eyes closed.

aeri is so incredibly nonchalant about the situation, it somehow comforts me, starting up the car and gaining enough courage to start driving. the trip back to her place was silent, peaceful cruising through the city, illuminated by the street lights, the two of us quiet in the car. she was right, it wasn't too bad but it felt like I could speed up and go too fast at any moment, so I tried to get a feel of how the vehicle operated, focusing on getting used to it. every other stoplight, I'd check the gps and then up at aeri, her resting figure so serene, the girl so still and pretty, unsure if she was really asleep or just resting her eyes.

her beauty is so utterly attractive and alluring, making my pulse rise every time I lay my eyes on her. what trouble will I possibly encounter working for this stunning woman? and how long will I survive?

almost in the blink of an eye, we arrive at her apartment complex. I find a parking space for the car, skipping the valet according to aeri's instruction, not wanting anyone else to touch her car. once parked, I finally let out a sigh, turning to my boss whose eyes flutter open, feeling the car's movement stop.

elegantly, like a princess, she sits upright and brushes stray hairs from her face, "home?" her voice raspy.

I nod carefully, climbing out of the car and opening her door. she tiredly stumbles out as I hold out my hand for her to grasp, taking it and stabilizing herself. her touch ignites my skin once again, her fingers lacing around mine once she's standing, shooting me a charming smile.

once again, I felt my stomach flutter, my whole body just succumbing to the ravishing woman whose hand was firmly holding mine, pulling me towards the elevator up to the penthouse. the ding of the elevator arriving and opening up to her place forced me back to reality, eyes widening at the sight of the grand residence.

walking inside and removing our heels, I got to absorb the surroundings. the motion detected light shone over us, not too bright but enough to outline the rest of the place. it was tall and spacious, high roofs supported by shiny white pillars, the wooden floors dark and clean, grand piano next to the comfortable array of sofas and armchairs, expensive accessories from the brand decorating the empty spaces on the walls, the breathtaking view over the city being the most prominent feature, large glass window panes displaying the incredible sight, leaving me in utter awe.

"like it? it's pretty nice," aeri's softly asks from beside me.

"you've got a magnificent place," I reply, still quite awestruck.

she chuckles once, letting go of my hand and walking forward, flipping the switches that dimly light up the living room in a warm tone, "you're a very honest individual, aren't you y/n?"

"is that a bad thing?" you ask, a little reluctantly, following her around.

"it's exactly the type of thing that's necessary in this industry, especially since you're working for me. honesty and transparency are some of the biggest traits I value out of my employees, within people in general really," she flips on the light switch to her big walk-in closet, "and you're my direct right hand, the most important person that I need to have be honest with me."

I stand by the door, taking in the room. it was such a large room for solely being a closet, clothes, accessories, and shoes all lined up against the walls, an almost never-ending selection presented on display. it was set-up like a designer store, except this was aeri uchinaga's own personal closet in her home.

she stood in front of a vanity area on the other side of the room, tiredly removing her jewelry from herself, hearing the metal rings clang against the marble countertop. she was quite careless with the items, throwing them off of her with little to no regard for damage, making me cringe slightly, worried they might break.

"come sit," she calls me over softly, motioning with her hand behind her towards the seating at the middle of the room.

I walk over, observing her diligently remove her earrings, sitting down with my legs crossed, once again watching her through the mirror.

"have you eaten yet, y/n?" the unexpected question startles me slightly.

"I can't remember the last time I have today," I respond honestly.

she hums, "well, let me get cleaned up and share dinner together then, shall we?"

I blink confusedly, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights at what she said.

"I need to get to know you more anyway, I think while I have you here, it's as good a time as any."

"it's quite late and you're tired, I should get going home..." I bite the inside of my cheek, her eyes staring back at me through the reflection.

"I insist," her voice is firm.

I gulp down my nervousness, nodding my head at her, aeri smiling at me, "good."

I watch as she reaches around to the zipper on the back of her dress, finished with the removal of her jewelry. her fingers struggle to get a good hold onto the metal and she calls me over.

"y/n, come help me with this zipper," aeri's firm but alluring voice demands me, urging me to walk up behind her, her back filling my view.

I swallow down a lump in my throat as my shaky hands reach up towards the metal resting at the top of her back. I grip the zipper and slowly pull downwards, being careful not to drag too quickly or damage the material of the designer dress. I feel the intense stare of my boss drill holes into me through the mirror, her hands moving her hair out of the way.

"nice and slow pretty, don't wanna damage anything do you?" her raspy voice fills my ears.

"y-yes ma'am," I stutter out, continuing to unzip her dress.

I feel sweat come from my palms, the speed at which I was unzipping her dress achingly slow, even though it wasn't even that gradual. carefully, aeri's back exposed itself, her milky skin emerging into view. my hands feel unsteady as they work, my breathing becoming uneven too, nervous to mess up and also seeing the woman's bare back. I try to simply focus on the task at hand, staring directly at the zipper and nothing else.

"you got it, doing so well for me," aeri deeply breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and seductive through the reflection.

her gaze makes me absolutely weak, I feel fucking insane.

eventually, the torture is over though, reaching the end of the zipper's trail.

I step back and stutter, "y-you can finish cl-cleaning up, I'll wait in the living room!"

I turn away and speed walk out of the closet, patting my skin dry from the nervous sweat, plopping myself down on the sofa and covering my face with my clammy hands. oh my god I wanna scream. what the actual fuck am I getting myself into?

the night calmed down slightly. we shared a light dinner while aeri asked questions about me, why I was interested in the position, what my goals are, what do I wanna learn from working with her, how long I plan to work for her, all answers which she seemed to be satisfied with. she asked about me personally too, where I'm from, my background, my education, my interests, all of which she was intrigued by.

we talked quite normally for a few hours, having had a couple of drinks already, feeling the intoxication climb up slowly. eventually, we moved to the couch to converse more comfortably. she sat right down next to me, handing me a glass.

"hoping you enjoy red wine too," aeri settles close to me, leaning against her arm propped up on the back of the couch, taking a sip from her glass.

I take a sip from mine, "it's sweet so I'm happy."

"ah good, I like a drink just not when it tastes like it," she giggles.

"oh," she readjusts herself, "let me ask you, are there any limits or boundaries you'd like to set for yourself with me right now?"

her question catches me off guard, "I'm sorry?" I ask, almost confused.

she catches the puzzled sound in my voice, "well, I wanna know if there's anything you wouldn't wanna do. I'll have you running a lot of different errands, some of them you could say are... physically taxing?"

her voice lingers through the dimly lit room, her face illuminated by the shine of the moon and city lights through the window, "I'm simply curious is all miss l/n, could and would you do any and everything for me?"

there's something sinister in the way she talks, her voice deep, the words coming from her throat in an almost inaudible rasp, but loud enough to resonate through my head. her question rings in my ears, what could she mean?

"I will perform any task you set for me to the best of my capability," I give her a simple and general answer to respond, unsure of what else I can say.

she hums, seemingly pondering, her face looking quite deep into thought. she looks up at me, capturing my stare with hers, the energy suddenly shifting when we lock eyes. a smirk tugs at the corner of her lip slowly, making my stomach flip. her gaze is filled with an allure of seduction, her sudden fingertip tracing my exposed knee close to her making me jolt in surprise, a chill running down my back.

"any task huh?"

my breath hitches when the cold condensation of her wine drips onto my knee, trailing down my leg. she taps her glass against my knee again, droplets splashing off and running down my skin, making me shiver slightly. I watch as she lifts the glass off of me and gulps down another sip of the sweet alcohol, her lips tainted red.

I hum in agreement to the question, the sound coming from my lips almost inaudible, getting stuck in my throat from how flustered I became.

she holds her glass with her other hand now, returning the hand that touched my knee back to it and placing it on me, her fingers dragging across my skin, caressing it, "god, you're cute."

her fingers trail up and down the exposed part of my thigh, playing very slightly with the hem of my skirt, not trailing any further up. her touch absolutely ignites me on the inside, constant chills going through me, my breathing becoming uneven.

"aeri..." I whisper quietly, the feeling of her touching me too much for me to handle.

"what is it darling? use your words," her voice is soft but menacing, hand grabbing the underside of my knee to pull me closer to her, my body pushed up against her.

I gasp at the movement, almost spilling my wine. she looks down at me, a hazy look in her half-open siren eyes, her lips slightly parted and wet as she licks them clean. my pulse rises impossibly high, feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest, aeri's hand trailing higher on my thigh, crawling slowly under my skirt.

I tear my gaze away from her stare and grip her wrist, clearing my throat, "a-aeri... I don't think we should be this close..."

she grabs my wrist back, sliding her hand into mine and interlacing our fingers, bringing my hand to her mouth, "well pretty, I just can't help it you know?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and tense as her plump lips press against my hand, her eyes fluttering shut as she kisses it achingly slow. the way she moves is so mesmerizing, her head craning to the side as she kisses it again, the sound of her releasing her lips from my skin resonates, feeling the wet spot she left on me.

I break out of the spell she has me under and slip my hand from her grasp, gripping the hem of my skirt down, crossing my legs tightly as the desire for her grew within me, "we should call it a night, you've already had a few drinks..."

she doesn't let up, fingers dragging across my arm, "I just need to know more about you y/n, aren't you curious too?"

I shiver at her question, "aeri... I can't... we shouldn't..."

"what's stopping us?" she grabs the glass out of my hand and places both of them on the coffee table, freeing our hands.

she pulls me by the collar of my sweater, her face coming closer to mine.

her lips hover right over mine as she whispers against them, "no one has to know."

I place my hands against her chest, holding her back from coming any closer to me, my breathing shaky, "you... you don't want this... you're just drunk aeri..."

"I do, I do want this y/n. push me away if you don't want this too," she holds one of my wrists, "please... stop me."

her voice whispered to me, the pleading desperation in her tone evident. and fuck me, it worked, my entire body burning, feeling myself start to throb.

I hold in my breath, resting my forehead against hers, "I... I do want this too, I don't want you to stop..."

there's a glint in aeri's eyes at my words, her big hand immediately grasping my neck and pulling me into her, smashing her blood red lips against mine. the kiss is greedy and desperate, her mouth molding against mine sloppily, our breathing heavy as tiny noises escape my throat. I taste the sweet red wine on her juicy soft lips as I melt further into her, feeling my entire body heat up in desire, clutching at her tank top and bunching it up in my hands, pulling her closer, making sure there's absolutely no space in between us. her other hand grips under my knee, pulling me into her lap, straddling her as she tilts her head to the side to make out deeply with me.

her hand grips my thigh under my skirt tightly, other hand pulling my neck in as she slips her tongue into my wet mouth. I sigh out at the intrusion, letting her move freely against my needy tongue. the flavor of alcohol and saliva intoxicate me completely, her deep groans vibrating in my mouth, making me whimper in response against her lips. my hands thread through her perfectly soft hair while both of her hands grip my thighs, rubbing them up and down before squeezing my hips, finally landing on my exposed waist, sliding under my cropped sweater, and guiding me on her lap.

I moan deeply against her, my core grinding on hers, aeri also releasing a long pleasured groan at the sensation. we finally pull away, leaning our foreheads against each other as we both pant, out of breath.

"fuck y/n, you're perfect," she sighs out, chest rising and falling, clutching the locks of her hair tightly to keep her close to me.

"aeri, I need you..." I desperately whine, my core aching painfully.

I pull back slightly to look her in the eyes and they're dark, clouded with lust and desire, which makes the pulsing between my thighs pound harder.

her voice is low and sultry, "tell me how badly."

the grip on my waist tightens as she guides my body once again, brushing my center against her own, making both of us moan.

"so, fucking, badly," I gasp out with each grind of my hips.

her hands guide me slowly but roughly, the contact of our clothed cores driving me insane, my stomach wanting to explode from the tightness. I grip her tightly as she continues to grind me against her, her fingers digging into my skin, my eyes squinted shut as the pleasure gradually but intensely builds inside me. I try to keep my eyes open, looking down at her focused stare, so hypnotized by the moment, feeling her gaze memorize the look of desire painted all over my face.

"let me help you," she whispers against my chest, one hand pulling my sweater up and over my breasts.

I release a hand from her hair and grip her shoulder with a gasp, the one unclasping my bra.

"it's okay," her teeth pulling my bra off, "trust me beautiful, I've got you."

her words make me lighten my hold on her shoulder, allowing her to keep going. she hums softly before exposing my boobs to the air, turning my cheeks pink in embarrassment. it swiftly washes away though as aeri's lips mumble against my skin.

"so pretty," my breath hitches when she attaches her mouth to my nipple, sucking the bud in and flicking her hot wet tongue against it.

I moan out loudly, the sensation had my eyes rolling back, arching myself into her as I grinded my own hips against her lap. her tongue swirled around my nipple, the saliva trailing down my chest, aeri using it to spread against my entire tit. I pant as she harshly but quickly bites down around my bud, soothing the shocking pain with her warm muscle. she switches to my other boob, spitting onto my nipple before swiping her tongue, sucking my entire tit into her mouth as she plays with the bud on her tongue.

"fuck aeri..." I whine in pleasure, both of my hands gripping at her shoulders, fingernails digging into them.

"like that?" she asks incoherently against my boob.

I nod mindlessly as I feel her smile against my chest, "already losing your mind huh? so sensitive baby."

she chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating on her tongue as it moves against my nipple. with one hand on my waist, she brings her other hand under my skirt again, creeping up my inner thigh and caressing her knuckle against my clothed clit. I jolt in her hold, biting down on my lip to suppress an embarrassingly loud whimper.

"don't hold back, let me hear you," she detaches from my chest, cupping my face and pulling me in.

her fingertip traces against my slit, "you're so fucking wet darling, you did want this, didn't you?"

"uh huh," I pant out, her finger pressing against my clit.

"fuck, I'm gonna ruin you."

aeri kisses me again, locking lips with mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth as I return her desperation with as much passion, thrashing my tongue back against hers. I feel her carefully push my panties to the side, two fingers sliding around my clit and dipping in and out of my slick slit, getting them wet from my dripping pussy.

"god you are soaked, you poor thing..." she teases after releasing me from her lips, teeth dragging my bottom lip, "must ache so bad."

"it does, fuck it does, aeri please please please," I beg desperately, "please fuck me..."

she groans against my lips, "you are so pretty when you beg, I'm gonna get so addicted to every part of you."

I whimper when she pinches my clit, soothing it when she rubs it in circles, "especially with this perfect pussy of yours."

aeri starts to leave wet kisses across my neck as her fingers flick my clit back and forth, gradually getting faster. I lace my fingers through her hair, gripping her head against my neck as my other hand clutches onto her upper arm for support as she continues to play with my pussy. I'm gasping for air, feeling the breath knocked out of me with how overwhelming the sensation of pleasure within me grows. her fingers slide down to my opening, gathering the slick and slapping her hand against my folds.

she inserts those two fingers inside of me, slipping them in easily due to my wetness, her digits completely sheathed by my walls. I let out a blissful cry at the action, digging my nails into her skin, making her hiss.

she groans with me, "my god you're so tight, your pussy just sucked me in. you feel perfect around me."

carefully, aeri draws her digits back, thumb rubbing at my clit, before sinking them inside me again, fingertips landing against that spot so delicious that it pulls a moan of delight from my lips. her tongue drags across the length of my perspiring neck, hand working smoothly against my sopping cunt.

"fuck! right there aeri yes, so good..." I sigh breathlessly, hips grinding back against her hand.

"taking me so well princess, that's it," she coos.

she starts speeding up, a consistent but accelerating pace as she plunges in and out of my hole, the sounds of our pants and gushing of my entrance filling my ears, aeri's lips against my jaw.

she trails her lips up to my ear and whispers, "such a good girl."

her voice drips with seduction, making my eyes roll back harder when she slips in a third finger. I release a euphoric scream, the intrusion full of pain and pleasure as it stretches me open, burning like hellfire but felt so unfathomably heavenly.

"you're gonna take everything I give you darling, fuck I'm going insane," immediately thrusting her fingers into me swiftly.

"ohhhhh goddddd..." one long continuous loud moan is forced from my throat, each pound of her hand sending me into oblivion.

I bounce on her hand, her long thick digits curling perfectly inside of my core, spilling cum all over her palm, dripping down onto her thighs. she feels so unbelievably good, her moaning right next to my ear, feeling pleasure just from watching and fucking me, her sounds continuing to impossibly turn me on.

"gonna cum on my fingers, doll? wanna make a mess in my lap?" her voice breathy and raspy, questions sounding more like a demand.

I mumble an affirmative response, something I doubt she can even make out properly, a dark chuckle in my ear at my incoherence. her lips trail down my neck, placing sloppy markings across my collar, lifting my top up again and feeling her hot tongue lap rhythmically against my nipple. her hand spread wide to capture my boobs, sucking both buds into her mouth and brushing her teeth down against them, switching between flicking her tongue and biting down on my hardened nipples.

the sensations drive me into a blinding release of ecstasy, my eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, screaming out in complete and utter bliss as my pussy gushed around aeri's skillful hand, drenching the both of us. my head is thrown back while my hands claw at the woman holding me close, mouth still working on my chest, vibrations against my nipples from her moaning while she fucks me through my intense climax.

she gradually lessens the speed at which she thrusts into me, coming to a halt when she achingly slowly pulls her dripping fingers out of my leaking cunt and releases with a pop, cum flowing out with her digits. she drags her fingers across my slit, spreading my slick around the entire area, rubbing against my sensitive bundle of nerves. I thrash at the stimulation, the feeling too much for my body, too soon.

she pulls her hand back from my core, her mouth releasing from my chest so she can bring the hand up to her lips, sticking her tongue out and letting her fingers drag across it, licking up every drop of cum on her digits. even though my vision is hazy, the sight makes me gulp, feeling my center pulsate. I collapse onto her as she lets me fall into her neck, nose brushing against her nape. my body feels exhausted, her hands sliding under my sweater and wrapping her toned arms around me, hugging my limp figure while rubbing my back soothingly.

aeri kisses my shoulder, her lips mumbling against it, "good girl."

I bury my face into her warm neck, nuzzling my face against her skin as I try to regain my energy, resisting passing out. slowly, I drag my head away, resting my forehead against hers with my eyes still closed, relishing in the serenity for just a second.

I flutter my eyes open just enough to see her, a soft look on her face as she quietly asks on my lips, "are you okay, princess?"

her concern for me send butterflies erupting in my stomach, feeling so cared for, a contrast to her demeanor just a little while ago.

I sigh out a response of affirmation before breathing out, "one more..."

the two words ring in aeri's ears, the sweet look on her face shifting ominously.

"you mean it," it was more of a statement than a question.

I nod and a smirk spreads across her lips.

she pulls me up, sliding her shorts and panties down her legs, slipping your underwear off of me too, "good, because I'm throbbing like crazy and I need you to ease the ache."

aeri maneuvers our bodies until our legs are intertwined, holding me by my waist as my pussy hovers over hers. she slides her fingers up her slit, letting out a breathy sigh, before bringing her dripping digits up to my lips.

"taste what you've done," opening my mouth and sucking on her fingers, cleaning them of her delectable nectar.

she watches intently as my tongue works around her fingers, her eyes blown with desire and her wet lips stained red, slightly parted as I slowly blink up at her, meeting her stare.

"how fucking obedient, you just wanna be mine don't you? you're gonna love working for me, I'm gonna use you however I want and you'll enjoy it because you're mine, got it?" she growls, gripping my jaw with her fingers still in my mouth, pulling my face closer, "I own you y/n l/n."

"all yours..." I choke on her digits.

her hand slips from my face, returning to my waist and pulling me down to her pussy, guiding me to slide against her slippery core. moans drag out from both of our mouths, my forehead resting on hers, overstimulation still present in my body as our clits brush against each other, aeri grinding our cunts again. her fingers dig into my sides, sliding her pussy upwards to meet the grind of my hips. I reciprocate the motion, moving to meet her thrusts, our cunt juices mixing with one another.

the feeling is so orgasmic, panting onto each others lips as I fuck myself against her, the squelching sounds loud from our slippery centers. she cries moans onto my lips, threading my fingers through her soft dampened hair, massaging her head and pulling her into a messy makeout, swallowing her pleasurable noises. I suck on her tongue as she increases our pace, forcing my body to keep up with her grinding, her nails scratching my skin.

I release her tongue with a pop, her saliva coating my mouth as she groans out at every other thrust, "you feel- so fucking- good, ugh y/n!"

"aeri, aeri, aeri, aeri..." I chant her name incomprehensibly.

her speed becomes relentless, wanting more control as she lifts me up and pins me down against the sofa, my back against the plush cushions and hands falling from her hair, aeri's legs and entire body holding me down as she drills me harder. our cunts are impossibly slick, sliding against each other so pleasurably, our clits perfectly making out messily, wetness continuing to leak from our pussies. she brings her hand to grasp my thigh, hugging my leg to her body, the other hand grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back. my hands clutch the material of her thin shirt, holding it hard enough to tear, not that anything other than aeri fucking me right now matters.

"I'm going fucking feral over this pussy, you're so perfect doll, you're all mine," she sounds so aggressive yet sexy as she ruins me.

the woman above me looks so strikingly other-worldly, the shine of her sweaty skin leaving her glowing in the faint lighting, her dampened hair flowing across her body, stray bangs sticking to her forehead, her strong arms gripping me possessively, her chest bouncing up and down so close to my heated face, her drenched and aching core slipping perfectly against mine. aeri uchinaga feels, looks, and is absolutely ethereal.

I feel my stomach tighten as her pace is unstoppable, so fast the couch even jerks from the movement. our moans are cries, screams of loud and complete bliss, her lips plump and hanging open, eyes rolled all the way back.

"I'm gonna fucking cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" aeri cries with her raspy throat.

"please, please, cum with me!" I beg her, voice hoarse but audible, her eyes locking onto mine.

we stare into each other's eyes as we both burst, cum gushing from our pussies, squirting against our cunts. my vision goes blank and I see a blinding white light surge through my head, my body thrashing from the pleasure, the sensations causing screams to rip from my throat, hearing aeri groan just as delightfully. I feel our cum flow down my thighs, soaking my skirt and the cushion under us, unable to move regardless as my hands release their grip on her torn shirt.

I fall totally limp against the couch, aftershocks of the orgasm coursing through my body, making my entire figure jerk every so often. aeri collapses on top of me, carefully still, her hands releasing their tight grips on me, her head falling into the pillow I lay on, face against my cheek, her nose bumping my skin. her hot heavy gasps for air hit the side of my face as I bring my hand up to play with her hair, caressing her head.

suddenly, her arms slip under my sweater and wrap around my torso, lifting me up and flipping us over. the action makes me squeal, my limp body now resting on top of her thumping chest, breasts soft against mine. I melt into her warm embrace, feeling my body's exhaustion crawl over me, wanting to consume me into slumber. aeri starts her pleasant humming, vibrations from her chest transferring to mine, feeling my body ease and slowly succumb to sleep.

"my perfect girl, you're gonna be an amazing assistant, we're gonna work so well together," she whispers.

I hum in response and she pats my back, giving me approval to rest.

her hands caress me soothingly, kissing my forehead, "sleep with me, no one has to know."

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my-autism-adhd-blog · 2 years ago

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ADHD and Dopamine Seeking

Future ADHD

#adhd #adhd post #adhd & dopamine #dopamine seeking #ways to increase dopamine #adhd struggles #source: Future ADHD (Facebook)#tw bright colors #tw eye strain #feel free to share/reblog

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venomvalley · 6 months ago

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LIGHTS, CAMERA—

onlyfans!leon kennedy x pornstar!reader // 5.6k words

summary: Leon needs a way to pay off his tuition for the police academy and you, his long-time friend slash rising pornstar, help him start his OnlyFans career. But things get a little awkward when your fans start begging you to collab.

tags: 18+ only! oral sex (m!recieving), safe sex, enthusiastic consent, p in v, praise kink, light corruption kink, reader films a non-leon threesome for plot reasons. continuing my submissive leon propaganda. there are also feelings here.

notes: jesus christ i finally finished this behemoth. based this around my own experience with sex work so it should not encompass the industry as a whole. this is just fiction.

-> read on ao3

The bedroom is bathed in dapples of red and blue when you open the door. Leon stands on a new shag rug just before the couch, arms spread wide when he turns and notices your presence.

“So, how's it look?”

You close the door behind you as you survey the room, eyes darting over decorations old and new.

His bed sits in one corner, sheets recently used, a set of sleep clothes tossed carelessly at the foot. Half-shoved beneath an askew pillow is the stuffed koala you bought him for his birthday last year. Band posters taped to the wall overhead.

Good thing he wasn't asking your opinion on that.

The remodeled filming area in another corner looks the most inviting. His soft, fluffy couch and pillows that quickly became a staple in his videos; two lamps on either side, lights perfectly aimed at the center cushion where he always sits (mood lighting is important, you had told him. an easy way to increase production quality); a small end table to store lube, condoms, toys for the day's shoot—anything you might need for filming amateur porn.

Your smile gleams with pride as you set your bag down near the door. “You've gotten really good at decorating. The fans are gonna love it.”

“You think so?”

You scoff at him in dramatic jest, shirking your coat somewhere near his bed. “Are you questioning my judgement?”

“Never. Couldn't have done it without you, honestly.”

Something sweet and sticky settles at the center of your lungs, and his cheery tone wrings out your breath. You couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

This all began as a way to pay off tuition from his current stint at some expensive police academy. If you're being honest with yourself, you much prefer him doing this. Maybe a bit selfish of you, given the circumstances, but he's good. And here's the thing: Leon paid off his debt months ago. He obviously loves the attention, the praise, the sharp spikes of dopamine each time he gets behind the camera (you get it—why else would you still continue fucking for some strangers on the internet?). He held the perfect recipe for stardom: an early twenties guy in prime shape, inexperienced to the point of blushing around any naked body beside his own, with the prettiest noises of pleasure you've ever heard. Everything fit into place.

Your presence in his life predates the porn. Just two almost-friends from high school who reconnected at a grocery store back home. A star in your own right, with a career spawning from NSFW subreddits you used to post on for fun. And when he came to you with news of his financial issues, desperate and embarrassed and all grown up, you didn't tell him about your job. You knew the risks, the side effects, the potential consequences. The internet—people—can be cruel.

Then he found your twitter (a happenstance, he swears) and the videos you posted. The website you linked in the description of all of them.

I think it's cool, he had said over text one night. At least it looks fun.

And so the floodgates opened.

You ensured the quality of his videos. Took some inspiration from a few guys you worked with in the past—lighting, angles, making noise is a must—and applied your own knowledge to craft Leon into the perfect sellable package. It's all business at the end of the day.

Until it isn't. Porn is one of very few industries that require the mix of business and pleasure for success. And although you play your directorial part well, you'd be a dirty fucking liar if you said that watching Leon jerk off every Tuesday and Friday isn't the highlight of your week.

He's a good boy so he leaves his face out of the shot, whines please and thank you to some invisible voyeur when he cums. Makes you food after a long session because you refuse to take any form of payment, but that first time he looked at you like a kicked dog when he insisted he pay you in a nice meal at least, and how could you resist?

So here you stand, the light casting soft shadows over his body as he plops down on the couch, boxers tight around his hips and thighs, bulge front and center when he spreads his legs wide.

Don't look don't look don't look. You might be a whore, but you can express self-control around your friend.

“What are we doing today?” you ask, turning around to sift through your bag on the floor.

“I got a few gifts in the mail, so…”

"Damn, already?”

He offers up a smug shrug, arms resting on the back of the couch. “What can I say? My fans love me.”

You set up the tripod and the camera (the same one you use for your own videos), as he sifts through the end table with a set of muffled thumps. He then places a bottle of lube and an unfamiliar cock ring on the coffee table, leaves to the bathroom for a moment before returning with the most sophisticated fleshlight you've ever seen. The material is see through, textured to perfection inside the sleeve. It's a work of masturbatory art.

“Holy shit.”

“Cool, right? It even has suction settings.” He slides a finger into the toy, and you watch through a filter of opaque glass as the silicone stretches beneath his exploration. “It's really soft.”

You swallow thick, eyes glued to the movement of his long fingers. “Oh, I gotta see this.”

His boyish excitement rubs off on you. Can't help it when he settles on the couch with a grin, fingers drumming along his thigh as you make last-minute adjustments to the lighting and camera's framing. The final result is beautiful, movie-like. Smooth gradient and hard shadows, showcasing his figure from neck to knee (an upward angle, of course—the most popular, a perfect showcase of the thickness of his thighs, a POV of sorts that places the watcher on their knees before him).

He slips into a role that mirrors much of his real life: curious and inexperienced, an endearing amount of confused. Changes his voice enough that, should anybody familiar stumble upon his videos, they wouldn't immediately recognize him. Makes a show of palming himself through his underwear, hips grinding a slow rhythm against his hand. He asks hushed questions, teasing and bashful as his cock swells beneath the fabric.

It's the ‘you really wanna see it?’ that does you in. Because yes, no matter how many times he's bared himself before the camera, you always wanna see it through the **technical filter **of the viewfinder. Can't bare to sneak a peek with the naked eye. Too afraid that he'll catch you staring.

And when he finally tugs down his underwear, waistband tucked snug beneath the weight of his balls, you curse the natural mechanism of blinking.

The show begins.

He takes time spreading the lube over his length, favors slow, teasing pumps as he tells you (no, not you specifically—the viewer) how good it feels. How he wishes his hand were yours. And it’s so easy to pretend that the camera isn’t there. That this isn’t a performance for hundreds of people. That he’s talking to you, the unseen face behind the lens, the catalyst of this whole affair.

He gets nasty as time goes on. Whines about how needy he is, how good it would feel for somebody to come and sit on it. The squelch of his fist is almost overstimulating. His palm rubs over his belly, follows the path of his happy trail to cup at his balls. It’s the perfect shot, really. The flex of his forearm, the show of veins along the back of his hand, the clench of his abdominals.

For the first time since you began filming his videos, temptation proves too strong to bear. For the very first time, you chance a look over the viewfinder. A simple rise of your head, a hairsbreadth of movement, but he notices. Locks lidded eyes with you and pins you there, the usual blue of his irises now deep as midnight, bottom lip pillowed between his teeth.

Your heart drops, settles somewhere snug between your hips where your pulse thumps heavy. If he said the word, you would crawl over on hands and knees and kneel between his legs and continue where he left off. There’s a pretty curve to his cock that you’d love to follow with your tongue. You wonder how the slick mess of his precum might taste.

Okay. So you’re a whore.

From what you’ve heard from friends in the business, porn isn’t supposed to be sexy for the cameraman. They’re too focused on camera angles and making sure the lighting stays good to worry about the actual sex. But it’s not like that with Leon. He and his pleasure sit front and center at all times. The scene is stagnant, with very few instances of framing or lighting changes. It’s just you and the man in the viewfinder.

You almost black out when he fits the fleshlight over his cock. The first pump leaves his thigh muscles tensing as his head falls against the back of the couch (heat settles in your belly when you realize that you’re the only one allowed to see his face and, by extension, his face when he's jerking off). His hips grind, chasing the suctioning pleasure as his fist builds a steady rhythm. He’s noisy: whining and moaning, cussing under his breath.

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and it ends much too soon. After a few minutes of milking vibration, he replaces the fleshlight with his hand, fucking his fist, body tensing as his orgasm looms.

He cums hard and heavy over his belly in pearlescent streaks that wet the line of dusky blond hair you find there. A horrible part of you wishes to lick it up. To clean his cock with your mouth instead of the wash cloth that you promptly run and fetch.

You trap yourself in the bathroom to calm the stampede of your pulse between your thighs. The weight of your need bends you over the sink, and you stick your hands beneath the warm water, gripped tight around the fabric, as you watch your sanity empty down the drain.

You come back with a smile, tossing the rag on his belly. “Good?”

He cracks open an eye, cheeks rosy post-orgasm, body melted into the couch. “You have no idea.”

As he starts to clean up, the red blip of your camera catches your attention. In your haste to escape, you forgot to end the recording. A definite first for you at this point in your career, and you should be way more humiliated than you feel about letting the camera run for five minutes, but you're currently soaking through your shorts and are far too worried about the wet spot you might leave on his furniture.

On cue, Leon turns to you, tying the strings of his jogging pants, and says, “What do you want for dinner?”

The message you receive from a long-time twitter follower on a boring Wednesday night licks heat up the back of your neck:

would love to see u collab with that new guy everybody's raving about. i'll tip extra…. dont make me beg ;)

ps ur so sexy. love that last DP video… blue is ur color

Then a link to Leon's twitter.

You're used to requests and the generous money that accompanies them. From the vanilla to the weird to the dehumanizing, you've admittedly filled each category. Film yourself smoking an entire cigarette? Two hundred bucks, easy. Sticking your feet in a store-bought lemon meringue pie? Five hundred, just like that.

You don't like to think about the last category too often. Luckily, you're well-off enough financially that you don't have to accept those requests anymore.

But this one frays your nerves solely for the fact that you consider it. You exit out of the browser and close your laptop and sit in the dark silence of your bedroom for a long few minutes.

It's not like you haven't thought about it. He's beautiful and sweet and genuine. The sex would undoubtedly be fun.

You imagine yourself teaching him a few things. The blush across his cheeks the first time you swallow down his cock, the high-pitched sigh he would make at the first feel of you around him, buried to the hilt, all clenching muscles and white-hot heat.

But you can't. Could never ask that of him. How much are you willing to ruin for a few hundred bucks?

You spend the better part of the next hour with your hand between your legs. Fantasizing. Nothing wrong with that. Just need a little release to make yourself feel better.

When you finally cum, it’s to the thought of bouncing in Leon’s lap. His hair fisted between your fingers. The thrum of his pulse beneath your lips.

The cleanup is embarrassing. Fantasy is one thing, but the proof of your betrayal spreads sticky between your thighs, on your fingers and lips. It’s the first time you’ve ever done something like this—come to the thought of a fellow sex worker.

But damn, you’ve never been this wet in your life. Never came this hard either.

Suffice to say, you’re considering your twitter follower’s request.

Moments like these are why you love your job.

Your friend’s face smothered by your thighs, a pretty cock deep down your throat. His name is Nate, tall and burly and hairy where it counts, and he knows how to fuck. He does it well.

The scene had been set in the bedroom of a mutual friend’s apartment. Fluffy pillows and soft sheets and ambient lighting. Bee sits in a chair just out of view of the camera, prepping herself with two fingers in her pussy and another circling her clit. She’s a sight to behold: thick at the hips and thighs and waist, soft to the touch, curly hair tied away from her face in an intricate updo.

You have two gorgeous people in the room with you, and yet all you can fantasize about is Leon. How he would fill your mouth, the softness of his tongue on your clit. If he’d be gentle or rough.

(You want him to use you like his fleshlight.)

You pull away from Nate’s cock with a gasp as he sucks hard on your clit, fitting a thick thumb inside your pussy to give you something to clench down on.

This is what you’re used to. This is fun.

And yet—

Bee climbs up on the bed, crawling over to your splayed bodies with a low-lidded grin. She joins you between his legs, kisses you hard on the mouth before licking a wet stripe up the length of his cock.

Threesomes are your favorite scene to shoot, no matter the mix of genders. A good change in routine, a pleasurable overstimulation. The diversity of bodies, of taste and smell and texture.

And yet—

The condom makes its arrival shortly after your first orgasm, and Bee helps you into place, taking her seat on Nate’s slicked-up face. With weakened legs, you seat yourself on his lap in one long stroke, balancing yourself with a hand on each of his thighs. He fills you full, more thick than lengthy, fitting perfectly against your g-spot with each grind of your hips.

And yet—

all you can think about is Leon.

The space he commands inside your head infuriates you. When the fucking is over and you’re all washed up and lounging on the couch, your friends take note of your distraction.

“Nobody else is gonna notice, but we do,” Bee says, nursing a glass of blood-red wine, cuddled up to your side like always.

She passes it to you with a knowing look, and you take a hefty swig before handing it back. “It’s just this guy. I’ve been helping with his content.” You shake your head, massaging a hand over your cheek. “It’s stupid, and it’s pissing me off.”

A bit of an understatement. You can’t tell them that he occupies every aspect of your waking mind. That every moment of free thought goes to fantasizing about fucking him.

Beside you, Nate dips his head, brows raised in surprise. “Oh shit. You in love, kitty cat?”

“Jesus Christ, no. He’s just—“ you sigh, “different. Cute, like a puppy or something.”

Bee nods. “Yeah, I get it. You’re in loooove.”

Your frustration reaches its peak, and you would pull your hair out from the root if not for the way she grabs your hands in a dramatic show.

“I’m not in love. I wanna fuck him.”

Your friends share an understanding ahhhh, and Nate wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders. Pulls you in close to say, “Listen, he’s forbidden fruit. We’ve all been there.”

The lilt of his tone portrays jest, and the heat in your cheeks makes you want to shrivel up and crawl into the crack between the cushions.

Bee laughs, and your shoulders curl toward your knees in resignation. “I can’t believe I have sex with you two.”

“Shut up. We’re the best you’ve ever had.”

You blink a moment, considering the statement.

Yeah. Can’t argue with that.

She pats your bare leg, pity woven in the lilt of her brow. “Just talk to him.”

“Absolutely not. We’re actually friends, and I don’t wanna mess it up.”

Leon texts you a few days later, well past midnight. A screenshot of a very similar DM to the one you received, quickly followed up by a set of question marks.

leon [2:45 am]

have u been getting these too

You snap out of your half-asleep state and roll over onto an elbow.

me [2:45 am]

yeah. when you get popular enough people request for you to collab with other creators.

leon [2:46 am]

wait they requested u to collab with me????

You adjust your grip on your phone, palms turning clammy at the question. The unknown of how this conversation may go strikes the fear of rejection in you. He’ll either voice his disgust or his excitement, and you—

Who are you kidding? You know exactly which response would be worse.

me [2:48 am]

they’re pretty much begging me actually

leon [2:49 am]

hmmm

The next evening, you show up at Leon’s apartment with your trusty duffel bag in tow. He sits on his couch, dressed down in a baggy shirt and sweatpants. A huge shift to what you’re used to. No sex toys or lube or neon lights to be found. Just Leon and whatever odd reality show he watches on the television.

“Hey,” you say, abandoning your bag and shoes and coat by the door.

You collapse on the couch beside him, a ball of anxiety wound tight in your chest. Not sure why. Things just feel different, off with him today. Like the living room holds its breath in anticipation.

He gives a simple greeting in return then focuses back on the tv, and you dissect the line of his shoulders, his expression, the relaxation of his muscles to give any sort of hint as to what the problem is. If there's even any problem at all.

Leon is one of your closest friends, and you don't want to lose him to some intrusive DMs on twitter. Or to the volatile nature of the porn sphere (you know firsthand how it chews people up and spits them back out).

“I kinda just want to… talk this time.” His voice comes out of nowhere, a loud break from the drone of the tv.

You turn to face him, throwing a leg over his knee. “We can do that.”

Subconsciously, he reaches for your thigh, palm warm through your jeans as he soothes a thumb along its seam.

He clears his throat. Says, “So. Saw your new video.”

Ah. The threesome. Wonderful reception from the viewers (you checked the comments). A lot of orgasms to be had. The first time Bee had ever squirted. Sex with them is always a treat. Comfortable and messy.

“What’d you think?”

“It looked… uh, fun.”

“It was a lot of fun.”

“I…” His brow furrows, head turning to stare at the wall behind you. “I wanna do something like that.”

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest, a thumping that vibrates your throat. “I have some people I can set you up with—”

“No, not like that.” He heaves a sigh, turning to look at you. Frustration clouds his expression, mouth twisting into a pout. “I'm not… experienced like you are.”

You remember him speaking about his ex—his first kiss, his first love, his first everything. A passionate relationship that he thought would last forever, now just a blip in the timeframe of his life.

The sex, however, left a lot to be desired. Expected given their inexperience, but you think it time for Leon to graduate, and given the current state of your conversation, so does he.

“You’ll be happy to know that a lot of people get off to that.”

“I know, but I want somebody I can trust.”

There's a heaviness to his words, a hidden meaning that he nudges you toward.

You think you might faint.

“Like who?”

You need to hear him say it. Couldn't bear the humiliation of being wrong.

He glances away, gaze bouncing over the coffee table. “You can say no, but I'd like it to be you.”

Inside your mouth, your teeth grit to force down a wide, beaming smile. It festers in your chest like a bonfire, the smoke almost suffocating.

“I'd be honored, Leon.”

He looks you in the eye for the first time since you walked through the door, and you swear you see the sun rise. His grip on your thigh tightens. “Seriously?”

You nod. “We gotta do this right, though. I work for a company that has actors fill out forms before every scene.”

“Forms?”

“Consent forms, the kinks you're into, that kinda thing.”

“Oh.”

“It's a formality, but it keeps everybody safe.”

“Okay, yeah. Let's do it.”

It happens on a Saturday. He comes over to your place this time—wants to see where you film your own videos, where you eat dinner in the evenings, where you lay your head down at night. You think a huge part of it is that nobody but you has ever been inside your office. All the videos you film in this room are solos.

Except for this one.

He prefers a submissive role. Light choking. Praise. Pet names.

You've psychoanalyzed him more times than should be healthy to see what makes him tick and now, sat on your lush, comfy bed, you hold the passkey to his psyche. The knowledge is exhilarating, many of your theories proven correct by the heavy ‘X’ of his pencil markings.

Bondage: yes.

Anal (giving/recieving): maybes for both.

You look up at him with a sharp grin, lips spreading wider at the sight of his fidgeting.

“Can I ask why anal is a maybe?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never done it before. Eventually I’d like to, but…”

“But not now?” He shakes his head. “That’s fine. Just checking.”

Specificity is important to you. Asking as many questions as possible to understand where the comfort and discomfort lay, so you know exactly where he defines his boundaries.

Once you’ve checked and double-checked his answers, the scene begins. Soft lighting to blur the edges, to aid in the dream-like nature you try to portray. Setting up the camera is second nature to you, a simple shot without an extra hand wielding it. You choose to go for a more amateur, intimate angle for his first video to make up for the lack of immersion.

Two creators meet up for a shoot, and if they seem like they know each other personally, you can thank chemistry and hormones.

A good cover for any future skeptics.

The video begins with Leon sat on the end of the bed, your form kneeling between his legs. You had promised him that you would hide his face, and the framing reflects that—you in full view, Leon from the neck down.

Your hands massage at the muscles of his thighs, the length of his cock a heavy weight against his belly. He’s bigger up close, the sight of his slicked-up head making your mouth water. Thick enough to provide a stretch. Perfect.

This is it. What you’ve been dreaming about for weeks.

You catch his eye then lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his frenulum, and beneath your hands, his muscles tense then release. The blue of his eyes darkens beneath the furrow of his brow.

So pretty. Always pretty, yes, but even prettier with his dick in your mouth. He tastes masculine, like salt-musk and body wash. Weighs down your tongue like you imagined in your fantasies. You drool over his length and swallow him down in one smooth motion, your throat sheathing around the flared head of his cock.

His head falls back, hips twitching against your mouth, a whine building in his chest. You begin to bob your head, slow enough for him to reach for you—fingers brushing your shoulder, a palm soothing down your back, touch feather-light. Reverent.

And then he pushes you away. Says, “I don’t wanna finish like this.”

When you smile up at him, his thumb plucks the swollen curve of your bottom lip, lidded eyes meeting your softened gaze. Like a sledgehammer to the chest, affection slams into you. The suddenness is enough to take your breath away.

He helps you to your feet, steadies your hips as you straddle him, and then he kisses you. Sweet as sugar. Slow pecks of his lips against yours, the quiet noise of your mouths, the weight of his warm hand massaging over the small of your back.

For the first time in a while, you forget about the camera. You forget about posing and angles and looking your best. The world narrows in on Leon—the tenderness in which he holds you, the softness of his skin, the pretty cock pressed against your belly.

You pull away and lay a hand to his chest. “Lay down, honey.”

He obeys your instruction in silence. Spreads out on the bed as you roll the condom on and soak his length in lube. Your hands shake as you carry out the motions (second nature), excitement heating your blood.

How many times have you dreamt about this?

You part your labia with the plush head, slicking up your clit, back and forth and back and forth until he shudders. Grips hard at your waist. Pleads with you under his breath.

“You want it, baby?” you whisper, voice a messy shudder as your pleasure begins to climb, syrupy and slow. Thawing molasses.

He nods his head, swallows thick when you line yourself up.

It's always the first thrust—thick, stretching heat—that gets you. The way you both gasp at the fresh sensation, and you find it difficult to keep up your porn star persona when his eyes glisten like your pussy hangs the stars in the sky.

You settle in his lap for a long moment, whispering praise as your body stretches to accommodate him.

You're so pretty.

How do you feel so good?

It's like we were made for each other.

He grinds up into you, already bottomed out but chasing more of that plush heat, brows arching when you follow his rhythm with your own hips.

As if remembering the actual reason behind the sex, you arch your back for the camera, slowing the rise and fall of your hips to better present the way your hole stretches around Leon's cock. You even give a fucked-out smile to the lens, head turned to gaze over your shoulder, bottom lip tugged between your teeth.

You hook your feet over his spread thighs for leverage, hands steady atop his broad chest, and begin to bounce in earnest. The harsh slap of skin, the wet squelch of your coupling leaves you clenching hard around him. He whines beneath you, effectively pinned in place, his grip on your hips shifting to your ass.

You circle trembling fingers over your clit, gasping at the pleasure that coils heat in your belly. He fills you to perfection, brushes every nerve inside your pussy as you ride him, and you can't stop looking at him. His face, in particular, more expressive than you've ever seen it. Wide eyes wet with tears, brows drawn, pretty lips open in a silent moan.

He grabs you at the waist, hard enough to bruise in an effort to still you. To pull your chest to his. Traps you there with an arm wrapped around your back.

“Are you—”

He huffs. “I need a second.”

You grin against the side of his neck, nipping at the cute mole just beneath his jawline. “It's okay if you cum.”

“No. Not—not yet.”

During the downtime your mind drifts back to the camera, long enough to question how the shot looks, how long this will take to edit, if people will even like it. It's different than anything you've done thus far. Fitting, you suppose, considering Leon is different than everybody else you've slept with. Something you can't take the time to unpack right now, but you like being with him. The sex feels like your heart might collapse under its own weight.

He kisses you and you melt into him, fingers mapping out the bulk of his arms, the heave of his chest, the stubble along his jawline. You tilt your hips to relieve the pressure building in your belly, grinding your clit against his pubic bone when he parts your lips with his tongue.

The motion sparks an all-consuming blaze, your bodies a forest fire. He rolls you over, face buried in your neck, then seats himself between your spread thighs. Smooths his cock over your pussy, the fat head catching on your clit.

“Fuck, baby,” you sigh, and stretch your arms over your head in offering, thoughts turning to static at the abrupt shift in dynamic. “That's so so good.”

He bottoms out in one stroke, arms flexing at the velvety clench of your cunt. Exhales a steadying breath before finding his rhythm: a steady, rough slap of his hips that jolts you against the sheets. His name rests a searing, heavy weight on your tongue, but you can't risk crying out to him. One issue during editing and you've suddenly doxxed him.

But oh, the temptation rears its head, a silky suggestion at the back of your brain.

You grab him by the nape of his neck and tug him down, until you can whisper into his ear. Breathe his name like a prayer, over and over again, quiet enough for only him to hear.

His thrusts intensify, and your fingers slide between your bodies to rub over your clit. You clench hard around him, a burst of heat singeing the base of your spine, and he groans into your neck with a stutter of his hips.

You cling to him as the pleasure rises, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder.

And then you’re cumming. It comes on fast, slams into you with a force that steals your breath, and Leon crushes you against his chest as he weathers the rhythmic fluttering of your cunt. Grinds his hips into yours as you milk him.

When the last of the aftershocks finish, you barely manage a breath before he kisses you again. Devoid of heat, a slowness both languid and loving.

He pulls away long enough to whisper, “Thank you,” against your lips.

You smile.

Your video with Leon is a resounding success, garnering you new followers and subscribers after posting the teaser on twitter. People compliment your chemistry, how comfortable you seemed around one another. Some speculate that you’re dating. Others beg for you to work with him again.

Leon comes over the night after you post the video to read the comments, and you spend the next few hours combing through the best ones.

hybridscreamer07: i could see ur pussy clenching when u came... so hot kitty xoxo

sabrina_daniels73: MORE OF THIS PLS!!! i love seeing couples make porn together :)))

titsandass.fan replying to sabrina*_daniels73**: are u new??? theyre not a couple dumb fuvk*

aquaticcrage: mmmmm idk which person i'd rather be

And then you have a talk, curled up in your comfy bed, some youtube video droning in the background. He had brought over some wine coolers to celebrate, and you're both halfway through the second one before he sets it on the nightstand and turns to you.

“I was wondering something.” His timidness makes a return, cheeks blooming into a deep blush.

“I’m listening.”

“So… was that a one-time thing?”

You curl up against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “Did you want it to be?”

Anxiety pierces your chest, strips your soul raw. You liked the sex. A lot. Fantasized so much about it that you feared he could never compare, but being with him was better than any thought conjured by your brain. But most importantly, you like him. Like spending time with him, and seeing him naked, and his smile, and his cooking. Such mundane things, yet you can’t imagine living without them.

He swallows thick. Says, “No.”

You can breathe again.

“Good. I don’t either.”

He blinks down at you, lips parting in surprise. And then, as if the words finally register, his face softens. “How soon is too soon?”

“We can start right now.” You move to straddle his hips, slipping your fingers beneath his shirt.

“You don’t have your camera.”

You press a kiss to the purpled bruise on his shoulder, blotted in the shape of your teeth. “We don’t need one.”

#resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfiction #my fics #ns/ft #fic: lights. camera

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