#we know he really is as sweet as his name let's be honest

[shiningjustforreid]

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentativel fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly done south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

[slttygeto]

you might be the main thing baby – hanma shuji

“baby.”

usually, hanma reacts almost immediately when you call him such an endearing pet name. this time, he doesn’t and you don’t really push it. he always hang out in the living room during the late hours of the night when he kept tossing and turning in bed and decided he didn’t want to bother you but this time feels different.

“come back?”

“can’t sleep doll.” you see the cigarette between his fingers and a frown settles on your face as you approach him, footsteps so light you were scared you would startle or hurt him.

“you don’t have to—we could cuddle?” you walk up to where he’s sitting on the couch, stand between his spread legs. you stare down at him, shivering when his free hand caresses the back of your bare thigh.

“you wanna cuddle?” his hand travels up to your ass, kneading the skin before bringing you closer to him.

“mmm, I do.” you place your hands on his shoulders and straddle him. his free hand then pushes your hair away from your neck, intense golden eyes staring at the exposed skin as though he wanted to litter love bites all over.

“can’t say no to my pretty girl, can I?” your heart flutters at the possessiveness in his tone, but you’re still worried about him and you remind him that you were here to make sure he was fine.

“shu,” his favorite nickname. “you know you can talk to me, right?”

“I do.” he brings the cigarette to his lips and takes a drag. when he exhales, your hand goes to grab his jaw whilst the other takes his cigarette away.

“then talk to me.”

“doll,” his eyes are fixated on the cigarette but he quiets down when you bring it to your lips and let it rest there. like a professional, all because you’ve seen him smoke so many times you’ve memorized his mannerisms.

“yknow I don’t like my birthday.”

“you don’t like being celebrated?“ you ask as you place the cigarette onto the ashtray.

“exactly—“ you sigh in defeat, scooting closer until your crotch is directly against his.

“how insulting,”

“to you?”

“mmmh to my boyfriend,” you say it so softly, so quietly that hanma’s cold heart warms up for a bit. “to my sweet, loving boyfriend.”

“who are you cheating on me with?” he tries to joke around but you continue to grip his jaw, holding him in place.

“the love of my life.” now, you’ve never been too vocal about what hanma is to you. sure, he knows you two are in love and that he means a lot to you but you’ve never expressed it through words. to hear it for the first time, hanma’s heart feels though it’s about to explode.

“I’m all of that to you?” after a beat of silence, he asks and you nod. completely honest and raw.

“and more.” you whisper against his lips, brushing your nose against his own.

“you’re killing me,” he almost whines against your lips and you giggle as you get off of his lap.

“come back to bed, shuji. i got your birthday gift for you.”

[sbcdh]

You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 

Could you start at the beginning?

Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…

Take your time. 

Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 

Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 

I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 

You mean an agent of the FDA? 

No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 

And you tried it?

Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 

Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 

At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 

Accountants?

Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 

What got you using regularly? 

Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 

How so?

You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 

By 1973 you were a regular user yes?

Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 

Would you like to discuss the raid? 

No. Not really. 

I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 

I don't want to talk about it. 

Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 

Alright alright, Christ. 

Please. In your own words. 

From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…

The raid, please. 

I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 

It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 

Your statement alluded to some additional information. 

Yeah…there was something else… I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 

What exactly is that?

I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 

I'm sorry? 

Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.

[sweet1delusi0ns]

What they call you in bed ──☆*:・ﾟ

Fem!dom!reader + suggestive/smut obviously

This is for all y’all fellow doms out there😋

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s vocal so honestly he will call you anything you want or find attractive~

He mostly calls you ma’am though, ever since he started calling you ma’am during argument he found it very hot to call you ma’am while you dom him~

Other that that it’s mostly just your name!

He loves being ‘punished’ for being bad just so he can say things like “yes ma’am~ I’ll never d-do it again AhH~” “what are you gunna do to me ma’am?~” “no ma’am I would never disobey you~” (he would)

Sasuke🗡️-*

He’s timid but kinky when it comes to you, calls you authority like names like miss or ma’am, and sometimes just your name with a whimpering tone~

“Miss…please…I need y-you” or “y/n, can you please help m-me…” is mainly how it started. He likes your authority even though you barely use it, He’s a good listener so there is no need to use your authority

Itachi🥀-*

He wants to act like all he wants to call you is just your name, but in the moment he sometimes lets a little ‘mistress…’ out

“M-mis…y/n… don’t stop please..” “what were you going to say?~” “M…mistress…” “Mmm oh I like that~”

Other then that he’s relatively quiet other than moans n cries (cutiee)

Kakashi🍃-*

Doesn’t admit it but he loves the idea of you ‘owning’ him during private moments

Naturally he calls you master sometimes but also calls you mistress as well. Sometime puts on a necklace of some sort just so you could pull on it and call him a good boy~

“I’ve been a good boy master I promisee~” “mistressssss pleaseeee i cant wait any longerrrr!” He’s not shy necessarily, he’s more shameless than confident mostly, so he isn’t scared to get your attention by calling you names only reserved for the bedroom~

Kiba🐺-*

Also calls you mistress, he does it to tease since he is VERY confident (borderline bratty honest) and he just likes the name, but also calls your name as well

“Don’t be a brat with me Kiba I’m in no mood!” “Ooo is mistress gunna get rough if I don’t listen? Ohh no!!” He openly likes it when your rough we all know. Also such a tease sometimes he just gets on his knees in front if you And start biting your thighs and when you tell him to stop he really goes “oh but y/n~ I’m not doing anything wrong though~” then continues to nibble at you until you lose it

Shikamaru🀄️-*

Mama’s he 100% calls you mama’s. Mommy isn’t his thing mama’s is more laid back he feels. So when you start pulling his hair or overstimulating him he always praises about how hot you are

“Oh god~ your so sexy mama’s~! M-more~” or “your so hot when your pinning me down mama’s~” he finds you so attractive when you dom him so he’s gotta make it known. He’s such a sweet talker😋

Shino🪲-*

He isn’t the best with names so the main pet name he calls you is also what he calls you in bed, which if flower obviously! But just because he isn’t good with names doesn’t mean his vanilla. One of his favorite things is overstimulation but that’s for another time

“I-it’s too m-much flower p-please…” or “don’t stop!!! Please flower dont stop Ahh~”

Neji🎋-*

He doesn’t like you being rough, he’s rather you be gentle and sweet, so he calls you sweetheart! Of topic but I feel like he doesn’t cuss during sex idk why but it’s cute!

“Sweetheart ngh…please c-can you go a little harder…” even though he likes it soft he sometimes wants it a litter rougher “OH~~ Gosh~ NGHH S-SWEETHEART…”

Lee🥋-*

WORSHIPPERRRRR! He can worship you ALL DAYYY so obviously he calls you ‘beautiful goddess’ or just goddess. He’s a worshipper but is so energetic to the point he doesn’t know what to do

“My beautiful goddess can I PLEASEEEEE pleasure you!! I’ll be good this time I promise!!” “Y-your so beautiful NGHh~ g-goddess please~” he’s so hyper you literally have to tie him up just so he stays still long enough for you to do anything!

Choji🍥-*

He’s also a worshipper but different from Lee, Lee can worship all day long but Choji needs diversity, one second your ‘goddess’ the next your ‘master’ and even ‘mommy’ but rarely

Also he gets very drained easily but get regain the energy when he eats, so sometimes you have to stop just to feed him which he loves “open up baby~” “yes master~” he would gladly eat off of you while calling you “goddess”

Gaara⏳-*

Mommy issuessss, he also isn’t good with nicknames but one day ‘mommy’ slipped out while you were leaving marks all over him and it stuck

He doesn’t mind you doing literally everything but sometimes he wants to help but doesn’t know how “mommy…I don’t really know what I’m doing uhm, can you show me…?” Other then that he’s a classic softy sub!

Kankuro🪆-*

Mommy issues + brattyness! He starts off all teasing and bratty. One time he dead ass called you “dommy mommy” other then that it’s either ‘master’ or ‘mistress’

I’ve said it before he loves being a bad boy so he can get punished. Punishments are expected from you. “Ooo I’ve been a bad boy master~ please pull my hair!! Tie me up!! anything!!!” “Well your not shy huh?” “Nope I just want my dommy mommy to rough me up~” “don’t ever call me that again, seriously your slutty side is showing-” “FUCKK CALL ME THAT AGAIN MISTRESS~”

[nimuraz]

WORD COUNT — 2.3K

WARNINGS — have you ever tried this one? fingering, pet name usage, sub!jake, hand jobs, cum eating, sex toys (let me know if i missed anything)

NOTES — hii guys thank u for the support on just for now, i will be splitting juno up into 2 parts so stay tuned for the next part! at the end of the fic i did include the pics of the lingerie that u can imagine wearing hehe~

jake was the sweetest man alive. always bringing you flowers, buying you food, being the shoulder you cry on, yes everything about him was so so sweet. even in bed he was so gentle and sweet, you didn’t hate it by any means but you were starting to get bored.

“jakey… can we talk for a sec?” the hesitation in your voice is unmistakable—how on earth are you supposed to tell your sweet, caring boyfriend that you want to go at it like rabbits?

“yea, pretty. what’s up?” he says enthusiastically. somehow that’s making it harder for you.

both of you are on the couch, your legs pulled up to your chest while he sits normally, his hand resting on your knee. as you call out to him once more, the touch makes it even harder for you to find the words.

“in the most normal way possible… do you have anything you’re into? like… i don’t know… any kinks?” you try saying this sweetly. his eyes widen and a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“mm… i dunno really…” he trails off into thought and to be honest now that he thinks of it he does wanna try some things out.

“i wouldn’t consider them kinks but probably more of like… things i would be down to try?” he says before laughing again softly. his hand on ur knee trailing down to squeeze your thigh.

“let’s hear it!” you say laughing shortly after. his hand on your thigh ignites a fire beneath your skin. ‘this is gonna be a long night’* you think, before offering him a reassuring smile.

“maybe you on top?” he suggests, biting his bottom lip with a smug grin spreading across his face. “want you to be a little rough with me too… tug on my hair, yank me around here and there.” he squeezes your thigh a bit tighter. your glossy eyes meet his, you nod your head softly, encouraging him to continue.

“make me feel good, but also use me, princess.” he whispered before scooting closer to you, his hand now in your inner thigh.

“use you…?” you whisper back. your breath was caught in your chest.

“mhm… do whatever you need to get yourself off, worry about me after.” his voice barely above a whisper. you look at him and smile before putting your legs back down, your feet hitting the floor.

you thought about what jake had said and ever since then you hate to admit it but you were so so needy and per usual, you texted jake.

you: jakeyyy

jake: yes baby?

you: can you come over? pretty pleaseeee

jake: give me like an hour

is that okay?

‘more than okay…’ you thought to yourself. it felt like a lightbulb went off in your head.

you: yea that’s perf muah see u then

jake: see you my love

you hop in the shower and somehow manage to shave everything. once you’re out, you head to your closet, searching for something to wear. yes you wanted to sleep with him, but you definitely didn’t need him struggling to pull down a pair of blue jeans to make it happen.

you sift through all your clothes until you remember—the baby pink lace lingerie you bought a few days ago, still sitting in its packaging. squatting down, you search through the shoe boxes, hoping to find it, and finally, you do.

you unpackaged it and smile to yourself before putting it on. glancing in the mirror your smile widens. you continue getting ready, doing your usual makeup routine and fluffing out your hair.

after what feels like forever, an hour passes, and you finally hear a knock at the door. you quickly put a robe on and walk over to the front door of your apartment.

“jakey!” you say softly before wrapping your around around his shoulders.

“someone’s in a good mood,” he teases, giving you a gentle squeeze in the hug. of course you were in a good mood. you pepper soft kisses all over his face as he closes the door behind him.

he lets out the cutest giggle you’ve ever heard come out of him.

“just missed you…” you say sweetly before dragging him to the couch with you. the quiet background noise of the tv playing a random channel plays as you focus on jake.

“so what’d you wanna do hm?” he says softly as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close to his chest. his other hand running slowly up and down your thigh.

“anything… everything…” you mutter before looking up to him sweetly. you shift, draping your legs over his thighs, so close to settling onto his lap.

the bottom of the robe rides up, bunching up on the top of your thighs, of course this doesn’t go unnoticed by your sweet boyfriend who’s trying so hard to not look.

“mm… wanna watch a movie?” he murmurs softly, his breath catching as you move your free hand to untie your robe, letting it fall open without fully taking it off just yet.

“we can… or we can do something else…” you whisper against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his back.

unbeknownst to both of you, the tv starts cycling through various pop star performances. this hour’s feature is sabrina carpenter, her playful voice and melodies perfectly complementing the atmosphere.

jake runs his slender fingers through your fluffed out hair. “yeah?” he whispers, his eyes locked on your glossy gaze. with one swift move, he pulls you onto his lap, you let out a tiny yelp causing the both of you to laugh softly. he thumbs at your outer thigh gently.

“what do you wanna do, pretty girl…?” he whispers before grazing your neck with his lips. he starts kissing so softly the way he always does. a soft huff escapes your lips before you speak again.

“wanna make you feel good…” your voice barely above a whisper. “wanna have fun with you.” you let out a louder moan as he starts sucking on the skin of your neck. his free hand moves to your shoulders, gently sliding the robe off.

you let him remove the article of clothing, it soon falling to the arm of the couch behind you.

“oh…” he gasps lightly as he looks down at you. the pink lace top lingerie covering just above your soft buds. “you look so pretty… not that you don’t always do just-“

you cut him off, kiss harsh and demanding. an unusual feel to what you both usually do with each other. his eyes flutter open at the sensation before he cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. his eyes slowly start closing again. he lets out a soft hum as you bite his bottom lip.

you pull away and peck his lips before shifting over to straddle him.

“better…” you whisper before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dipping back down to kiss him again. his hands running up and down your sides gently.

“do you like it…?” you mumble against his lips.

“what? the surprise of you in this skimpy little outfit?” his tone playful. you smile against his lips before kissing him again. he takes this opportunity to rub your hips gently, this sparks an idea in your head too.

you start shifting your hips back and forth gently, a quiet groan tries to release from his lips but they were muffled by your sweet kisses. his grip on your hips tightens before he starts moving you himself, grinding you harder against his aching core.

“bed…” he mumbles against your lips before swiftly lifting the both of you up from the couch. he lays you down on the bed gently before putting his hands back on you.

“so pretty… my perfect girl…” he says in between kisses. you clench around nothing. “s’tied on the sides? how cute…” he starts toying with the ribbons on the side of the lace panties before undoing the knots on one side.

“i wanna try what we talked about.” your words come out in soft pants.

“only if you’re comfortable, angel…” here he goes being the sweetest person alive.

“but i want you to be rough with me too.” you pant once again.

“are you sure?” he gazes up at you. fluffy strands of hair framing his face as he dips down to get closer a better look of you. you nod quickly.

“i also have… toys, we can use.” you hesitantly say. his ears perk up. he nods slowly, taking in what you just said. you tug him back down by his neck, eager for more kisses, and fuck, he can feel you everywhere—your lips on his, your hands digging into his chest, clawing at his shirt, your legs pressing against his. a sweet whimper was all he could let out when you pull away from the kiss.

he pulls you closer by the waist, squeezing the skin that laid on your bones so perfectly, he thought to himself. he leans his body down to suck on your neck, his tongue licking stripes up and down the skin earning a soft moan from you.

“more jae…” jae. it’s what you seemed to only call him during times like this or when you’re sobbing after a long day and he’s there to hold you.

“i’ve got you, baby doll.” and that’s what he calls you.

the soft music from the living room tv drifts into your room as the tension rises. what a coincidence—your favorite sabrina carpenter song, juno, is playing.

he continues his kisses down your neck before untying the other side of the lace panties, his kisses get harsher and hotter. his tongue licking softly at your bottom lip. you instinctively open your lips just enough for him to slip his tongue in, all he could think of was inhaling you. your scent, your taste, the feel of you. he needed it all so deep inside of him. he takes the hand he used to undo the knot and slips the lace covering your bare core to the side before rubbing your clit in soft circles.

you moan into the kiss before trailing your hands up to his nape, tugging on the soft strands just like he told you too. he moans, but not like the moans you’re usually used to. he sounded so spent and needy and all you’ve done was kiss.

he starts rubbing your sensitive bud faster before dipping his fingers down to your soaking hole just to play with your arousal, smearing it back up to your clit.

“baby…” he babbles as you keep tugging on the strands, his fingers working faster against you. you buck your hips up seeking more friction, it just wasn’t enough. he chuckles softly against your lips before biting down on your bottom lip.

“just like that jae— mmh…” you moan out.

“you feel so soft… so perfect…” he murmurs into your lips, craving the warmth, the sounds, the touch—desperate to be consumed by it all.

“check- nngh jae- check the box under my bed…” you manage to whisper out. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he stops his motions.

he dips down next to the bed and reaches for the box, sliding the pink plastic box towards him then up onto the bed.

you smile hazily at him. “open it…” so he does.

dildos, vibrators, a cock ring, and… fuzzy pink handcuffs?

“ooo…” jake playfully says, earning a soft giggle from you. he takes the hand cuffs out and dangles them in front of your face. “so who goes first?”

“you’re asking as if you aren’t dying to go first…” you roll your eyes playfully before sitting up on your elbows to get a better view of him.

“you caught me!” he jokes as he puts his hands up in surrender, a stupid smile on both your faces.

‘this feels so fun…’ you thought to yourself before immediately gasping when his lips meet your collarbones. he nips and nips, your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. never has he ever even thought about leaving hickeys on you, god he always treated you like a porcelain doll during your intimate moments.

he sucks, and nips, and licks, all causing you to grip onto his biceps. he pulls back and looking at the small bruises forming. “pretty.”

you smile softly before sitting upright and taking the cuffs from his hands. you slowly guide him down the bed so he’s laying next to you before you kiss his lips again, the taste of mint and was that mango?* lingering on his tongue.

“off. everything.” you mutter, he wastes no time in removing everything but his boxers. “these too.” you say softly. he nods rapidly before taking his boxers off leaving him completely bare in front of you. you look down at his half hard cock and grin. “lay back.” and again he follows, without hesitation.

you loop the hand cuffs around your bed frame, the clanks of the metals clashing arousing jake up even more, his cock twitching.

“arms up.” you speak firmly, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him. he glances up at you with those endearing eyes, knowing full well that you can't resist him when he looks at you that way. you finally lock the hand cuffs and smile sweetly at him. “just hold still jakey…”

it didn’t take long for you to have jake trembling under you. your hand stroking his aching cock as your lips left marks all over his abs.

“s’too much y/n please-“ a strangled moan leaves his mouth, only motivating you more. you wrap your lips around his red tip, leaking precum and twitching while his veins protrude. it almost looked painful. you chuckle softly around his head, earning a loud groan from him.

“think you can keep being a good boy for me…?” you tease before kissing down his shaft. he pathetically nods his head.

“anything for you please i’ll do anything…” he breathes out, his voice cracking in the process. you release his length and move to the side of the bed, leaning over to get something from your nightstand.

“just relax for me jakey… just wanna make you feel good…” you say reassuringly before lubing up your fingers. “deep breaths baby…”

the sweet whimper that leaves his lips at the feel of you in his walls has you shaking. “y/n holy fuck-“

you start pumping your middle finger in and out of him in a more steady pace before using your other hand to stroke his leaking cock again. he squirms and whimpers beneath you, you gaze up to look at his face— it was enough to have you dripping in your own arousal.

you tighten your fist on his dick and start picking up the pace of both hands. he’s shaking and almost yelling at this point. the hand cuffs creating red marks around his delicate wrists.

“you wanted this jakey didn’t you… you wanted me to play with you and be rough right?” you speak in a gentle tone, a harsh contrast to your actions as you add another finger. he can’t form a response, the words lodged in his throat, refusing to come out.

“s’good…” he babbled. “gonna cum… please i’m so close y/n…” and then he breaks, strings of his release landing on his flexed abs and your soft hand.

you gently remove your fingers from inside him and look up at him before licking up his release that dripped down the side of his waist.

yea this was gonna be a long night.

[nyxiswrites1200]

🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵

Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.

----

Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.

When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.

Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.

Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.

Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.

In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.

Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".

Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.

The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.

"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".

Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.

Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.

Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...

He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.

He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.

Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.

Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.

[pedroscowgirl]

In safe hands

Aaron hotchner x (fem)reader

(could be read as gn reader but aaron calls reader princess if you're fine with that)

Masterlist

warnings: fluff /slight angst but also a lil suggestive! so minors dni, mentiones of surgery, reader is high on anesthesia, secret relationship, lmk if i forgot something

Summary: After undergoing surgery, you wake up to find Hotch by your side—and under the influence of anesthesia, you accidentally let some unfiltered, unholy thoughts slip

wc: 1.7k it's a small one srry

A/n: i was actually planning on writing some crazy naughty stuff but i couldn't bring myself to ruin the sweet moment so. Edit: this was an ask from a friend :))

The world was a haze of muted colors and soft lights as your eyes fluttered open. Everything felt… heavy, yet oddly light at the same time. The last thing you remembered was the searing pain, the sound of shouts around you, and the warmth of Aaron’s hand gripping yours as you were rushed into surgery. Your head was spinning, and the sterile smell of the hospital filled your senses, reminding you that you were safe now. But that comforting thought wasn’t fully real until your eyes found him.

Aaron was there, sitting at the edge of your bed, his normally composed face lined with worry. His dark eyes softened the moment he saw you stir, as though some enormous weight had just lifted off his shoulders. His hand moved, almost instinctively, reaching out just enough to brush against your blanket-covered arm. You knew he was keeping it subtle, keeping his usual public reserve, even though you longed for his touch to be closer. You didn’t mind. Just knowing he was there was enough.

“Aaron…” you murmured, his name slipping out in a breathy whisper, almost a plea. A sleepy, lopsided smile tugged at your lips as you raised your hand weakly, the gesture an open invitation. And he understood instantly. He moved forward, his hand enveloping yours with a tenderness that, even in your groggy state, sent warmth spreading through you.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning close enough that his familiar scent, clean and comforting, washed over you. “Are you okay?” There was a hitch in his voice, and his gaze searched your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You felt a giggle bubble up, uncharacteristic but unstoppable under the heavy influence of the anesthesia. “Yes,” you said, your voice slurred but light with relief. “But gosh, I really am so horny for you right now.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest, before you even registered what you were saying. It was as if, in this dreamy, half-awake state, you couldn’t help but speak exactly what was on your mind.

And for a beat, the world felt perfect.

Then, as your senses sharpened, you became acutely aware of the quiet—unnaturally quiet. You blinked, focusing past Aaron, and that’s when you saw them. The entire BAU team stood around your bed, a collective look of utter shock written across their faces.

JJ’s mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of surprise and excitement. Beside her, Morgan was struggling—and failing—to hide a grin, while Garcia looked as though she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest secret of the decade. Reid was there, too, his head tilted in deep thought, clearly recalculating every recent interaction between you and Aaron. Emily was one of the first to piece things together, thanks to her observant nature and razor-sharp intuition, and her expression quickly shifted from mild surprise to amusement.

Embarrassment surged through you, but Aaron didn’t let go of your hand. His grip was steady, grounding, and as you looked up at him, his expression remained calm, even gently amused. You caught the faintest hint of a smile as he glanced down at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that rare, quiet way that he reserved just for you.

Morgan was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and crossing his arms with a sly grin. “So… looks like there’s a little something we missed here?”

Your cheeks flushed, but Aaron gave your hand an encouraging squeeze, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. He wasn’t going to leave you to face this alone. You took a deep breath, glancing at each member of your team, your family, before you spoke.

“Guess… the secret’s out,” you said, your voice still a bit wobbly from the anesthesia but carrying a hint of humor.

“Oh my God,” Garcia burst out, clapping her hands together with a gleeful little jump. “This is the best plot twist of all time! I knew something was going on! Didn’t I say something was going on?”

JJ let out a little laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “You two… Really?”

Aaron, ever composed, only smiled, his face calm as he finally addressed the team. “Yes,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying just a hint of pride. “We’ve… kept it quiet for a while.”

“Quiet?!” Garcia’s eyes were practically shining. “This is FBI-level stealth, boss man!”

Emily cleared her throat, causing everyone to pause and look her way. "Well, well, well," she said, her voice teasing but not unkind. "Hotch, I never would have pegged you for a rule-bender. But hey, I’m impressed.”

Reid, still analyzing the situation, gave a little nod, murmuring as he looked back and forth between you both, “I suppose that does explain the slight change in body language I’ve observed between you two over the last few months…”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a subtle, almost playful challenge directed at Reid. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Reid’s cheeks turned pink, and he adjusted his glasses. “Well, um… no,” he replied, with a sheepish little smile.

Morgan crossed his arms and chuckled, nudging JJ with his elbow. “Man, Hotch, I never thought I’d see the day! But you know what? I’m happy for you both. Really.” His grin was genuine, the teasing look in his eyes replaced by one of warmth and respect.

With the laughter and light-hearted jabs filling the room, the awkwardness melted away. The anesthesia-induced embarrassment faded, replaced by a sense of belonging, of trust. This team—your family—was nothing but supportive, and you felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude that they knew now.

Finally, you turned back to Aaron, who had never let go of your hand through it all. His gaze was soft, a glint of humor still in his eyes as he leaned down just slightly, murmuring so only you could hear, “Guess we’ll have to get used to a little less privacy.”

You smiled up at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I think I can live with that.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice as steady as ever, though a hint of relief softened his tone. “I think it’s time for everyone to let the patient get some rest.”

The team murmured their goodbyes, each leaving their own quirky remarks. JJ gave you a warm smile, mouthing “we’ll talk later,” while Garcia blew you a playful kiss, winking at you and Aaron as she left.

But Morgan lingered a little longer, crossing his arms and giving Aaron a mischievous grin. “Take it easy in here, Hotch,” he said with a laugh, then pointed a finger at him. “And behave, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the anesthesia still making your giggles sound a bit loopy. Morgan winked at you before finally heading out, and with that, the room fell silent, leaving just you and Aaron.

The laughter faded, and the quiet settled around you both. Aaron still held your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your palm. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his gaze softened, his brow still creased with the worry he hadn’t quite shaken. He let out a long, shaky breath, his thumb pausing as he looked down at you.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly, his voice a low murmur. “When I saw you go down…” His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if replaying that moment was too painful. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his voice. You’d never seen him like this—Hotch, the stoic, unshakeable leader, allowing himself to show this depth of emotion. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, your fingers weak but wanting to comfort him in any way you could.

“I’m right here, Aaron,” you said, your voice a little hoarse but filled with as much warmth as you could muster. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked back at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small, relieved smile. Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if grounding himself in the fact that you were safe and alive.

Then, unable to resist, he moved lower, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was tender, slow, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling yours, he looked at you with an expression so full of love and relief that it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled up at him, feeling a little cheeky despite everything. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but playful. “Now you need to fix it.”

Aaron’s brows rose slightly, and a hint of a smirk crossed his face as he realized exactly what you meant. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “When you’re better, I’ll treat you like the best pillow princess that you are.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you reached up to lightly tap his arm, both touched and amused. “You’d better keep that promise, Hotchner.”

He chuckled, his own tension easing a little as he looked at you, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I don’t make promises lightly. You know that.”

And in that moment, as you lay there under his warm gaze, you felt the absolute certainty that you were cherished, protected, and loved in a way you never imagined.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch @gamingfeline @rousethemouse

[whorefordean]

three's a crowd

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: reader wants to have a threesome. rafe doesn't share, but he does have a solution.

wc: 2.1k

cw: unprotected p in v, use of pet names (princess, baby, sweet girl), slight degradation, praise, dvp, use of toys, mentions of a threesome, mentions of anal, "cock" was probably overused?, um I think I blacked out while writing this so probably bad writing/errors (also idc but sorry)

18+ mdni

to be honest, the conversation was over before it ever started. 

“can we have a threesome?” you had asked the question so innocently, so sweetly, that for a moment you truly believed that rafe would say yes. that is, until his head whipped around, and he glared at you like you’d just told him you committed arson. although, he probably would’ve agreed to arson. 

“what the fuck did you just say?” rafe asked so quickly, you had barely caught it. you wanted to laugh at the look on his face. his eyes were wide open, despite him just waking up. it’s barely nine in the morning, and rafe had just finished pouring a cup of coffee. what a way to start the day.

“i said, can we-” 

“don’t start with the dumb shit this early,” rafe scolded before you could finish repeating yourself. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. you’re not sure why you even wanted to have a threesome. maybe you’d read one too many why choose novels. maybe it had been the wet dream you’d had a few weeks ago. who knows, but a part of you is slightly upset that rafe wouldn’t even entertain the idea. not that you would either, if the roles had been reversed. 

“rafe, come on! it’s not even that serious! i think it could be fun, and you could even choose the guy,” you try to persuade him with puppy dog eyes. rafe stares at you for a minute before scoffing and leaning closer to you.

“the only cock you’ll have inside that greedy little cunt of yours is mine. got it?” rafe growls lowly as he grips your chin. you pout up at him, and rafe rolls his eyes. 

“well, unfortunately for both of us, you don’t have two dicks, rafe!” you argue pathetically, throwing your hands up in the air. he releases your chin and moves back to his previous position at the counter. the room is silent for a few minutes while you glare at him. 

“not even, like, barry?” 

“drop it.” 

so you do. 

nearly three weeks later, you’ve resigned to the fact that you don’t really wanna fuck another dude. nobody could give you the pleasure that rafe can anyways. but a small piece of you wants to know what it would feel like. maybe you’d suck rafe’s cock while riding another. you gnaw on your cheek at the thought, clenching your thighs together. 

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when rafe waltzes into the living room with a smirk on his face. he’s holding a plain brown box under his arm that he promptly drops onto the coffee table. 

“what’s that look for?” you ask him, staring at him suspiciously. rafe licks his lips, tipping his head towards the box. 

“open it,” rafe tells you. you squint at your boyfriend but lean forward and grab the box anyway. you pop the lid open and furrow your brows. slipping the item out of the box, you gape at rafe. 

“rafe, is this what i think it is?” you ask breathily, wetness pooling in your panties as you look at the toy. rafe grins proudly, nodding. 

“you said you wanted two dicks, baby. now, you’ll have two of mine,” rafe says, puffing his chest out as he crosses his arms. the toy in question is a perfect replica of rafe’s cock. you stare up at him from your spot on the couch, trying to find any words to describe how fucking badly you want him in this moment. 

“rafe, sit down,” you say quietly. rafe quirks his head, still grinning at you. he watches as your eyes glaze over with need. 

“why?” rafe teases. his hands grip his biceps, and you can already see the tent forming in his jeans. his hips jut forward as he adjusts his stance, and if you weren’t already on your knees, you would’ve been in an instant. 

“please, rafe. let me suck your cock,” you beg him softly, standing up to slip out of your panties. the shirt you’re wearing belonged to rafe at one point, and it tickles at your thighs when you kneel back down in front of your boyfriend. rafe’s sharp inhale sends a wave of pleasure rolling through you, and he nods before sitting down on the couch. 

before you can do it for him, rafe is slipping his cock out from the restraint of his jeans. you whimper when he starts stroking himself, spreading the pearls of precum down his shaft. he groans, making you pout. 

“rafe, please,” you beg him, shifting your thighs trying to alleviate some of the frustration building inside you. 

“just a second, baby. think it’s okay to think about some other guy using that sweet pussy? you can watch me feel good without you for a second,” rafe groans, squeezing his dick just a bit harder. you whine and when he pays you no mind, you glare at him. rafe’s head is tossed back in pleasure as you reach behind you to grab the toy from the table. you slip it into your mouth, still glaring at rafe. he finally looks at you when your nails dig into the fabric of jeans. 

“so fucking impatient,” rafe rolls his eyes, watching as you suck on the dildo. your tongue swipes at the vein the same way it does on rafe’s real cock. he leans forward, gripping your throat. 

“you said you wanted to get used, baby. i’m still a little offended. maybe you should try to make it up to me,” rafe tells you condescendingly, releasing your throat as he leans back against the couch. you release the toy with a pop before suctioning it to the floor. you hover over it as you finally touch rafe. you stare up at him with wide eyes as he spits, the thick glob running down the length of his shaft. you inhale sharply, lowering yourself onto the toy as you wrap your lips around rafe. 

you moan at the feeling. being stretched out by rafe was the highlight of your life no matter which way he was using you. being able to suck him off and have his cock inside you at the same time? heaven. rafe hisses when you take him deep into your throat. his hand tangles into your hair, holding you there. 

“feel good, princess? hm? everything you wanted?” he snarks, clenching his jaw. you moan against him in agreement, but rafe pulls you off his throbbing dick. 

“wanna hear you say it. tell me how good it feels to be filled up with my cock inside your cunt and that smart mouth,” rafe commands. 

“feels so good, rafe. thank you,” you blubber as you sink further down onto the dildo. your hand finds your clit and you drop your head to rest against rafe’s thigh while using your free hand to stroke his wet cock. rafe’s warm hand rests against the side of your head, playing with your hair, as you bounce on the toy in front of him. 

rafe tsks, “thought you wanted me all over, princess. open your mouth.” you comply, lifting your head up to cover his cock with your mouth again. tears burn your eyes as you take him deep. you shift your hips slightly, and the replica of rafe’s dick drives deeper into your cunt. you whimper against rafe as you rub your clit faster, searching for release.

you slow your hips, bobbing your head to pleasure rafe. swirling your tongue over his pink tip, rafe groans again. you watch rafe through teary eyes. 

“look at you, baby. doin so fucking good for me. just me. ain't that right,” rafe asks rhetorically and you nod slightly. rafe smirks, thoroughly enjoying seeing you filled with him. not that he’d tell you that after the hell he’d almost raised over the situation. rafe wasn’t good at admitting fault, but seeing how blissed out you look in this moment had him second guessing your proposal. 

rafe pull his cock out of your mouth. you whine at the removal, watching as your saliva connects the two of you. you drive your hips down harder, hitting the sweet spot inside of you that only rafe had managed to do before. god, he feels so fucking good. why had you ever even considered adding anyone else to this when rafe has the perfect cock? 

your hands grip rafe’s thighs as you continue to fuck yourself onto the toy. rafe watches in awe, stroking himself. 

“rafe, please,” you beg pathetically. rafe watches you, biting his lip. 

“please what, baby?” he cooes. you dig your teeth into your lip, throwing your head back with your eyes squeezed shut. 

“need you,” you mumble breathlessly. rafe shakes his head in a teasing manner. 

“you have me, princess. taking my cock right now,” he says almost sarcastically. you shake your head quickly. 

“mm, no. need you, rafe,” you beg again. rafe grins widely, pushing your hands off his thighs. you huff at the loss of contact but continue riding the dildo. you’re too lost to realize that rafe is standing now. 

“stop,” rafe tells you lowly. you move to shake your head, but rafe catches your jaw. your eyes snap open, and rafe is glaring down at you. he looks both horrifying and delicious like this. 

“stop and get on the couch. or i’ll fuck you on the floor. your choice,” rafe shrugs. you look down at the carpet, fully aware of how painful the rug burn had been last time, and stand up on shaky legs. 

rafe pushes you down until your head is buried in the couch with your ass and pussy high up on display for him. rafe drags his ring clad fingers down to your dripping core. you hiss when he fully seats himself inside you. 

something warm drips down your slit, and you realize that rafe spit on your pussy. 

“spit on this for me, princess,” rafe tells you before positioning the toy in front of you. he’s leaned forward, chest pressed against your back while he waits for you to listen. you mewl as he drags deeper inside you. you let out a shaky breath before spitting onto the toy. rafe pulls it away from you, but you’re too far gone to piece together why. 

rafe slips a finger into your pussy alongside his cock. he thrusts into you slowly, letting you adjust to the minor stretch his finger added. 

“think you could take two of my cocks inside your pussy, princess?” rafe asks gently as he slips in another finger. you moan at the pleasurable pain, dropping your head back down to the couch while you try to angle your hips better for him. 

“it’s so much,” you whisper, tears brimming your eyes already. 

“i know, sweet girl. but you’d look so pretty with your pussy stuffed full with two of me,” rafe says lovingly. your mind whirs at the mental image of being completely stuffed with rafe. 

“o-okay,” you say quietly. rafe hums. 

“use your words, princess,” he tells you, teasing your clit slowly. 

“i can take it,” you nod along. rafe clicks his tongue in approval before readying the dildo beside his own cock. you hiss at the drag of another cock filling you up. it hurts. then, it doesn’t. you gasp when rafe pushes the dildo in to match his pace. your eyes roll, and you go completely silent as you take whatever rafe is willing to give. tears brim your eyes as you reach down to rub small circles against your pulsing clit. 

“right there, rafe,” you moan. rafe groans as you clench around him. 

“keep doing that, and i’ll have to fill this greedy cunt up with something else,” rafe threatens. you clench again just to spite him. though, you hope he’ll make true on his threat. 

“fuck, you would want that, huh? greedy little cockwhore,” rafe grits, pumping harder into you. you cum with tears streaming down your face, calling out to rafe. rafe cums with a groan at the sight of your tears and the way your pussy is stretched around two cocks. you whine as he finally pulls the dildo out of you. louder when he pulls his own cock out. cum leaks from your used pussy, and rafe reaches down to force it back into your drenched hole. 

“don’t ever ask me for a threesome again, princess, or i’ll fuck that tight little ass, next,” rafe threatens in your ear. 

suddenly, the idea of a threesome is even more appealing. 

[obsessedwithceleste]

Flowers

soft! Mattheo Riddle x reader

Summary: You just wanted your boyfriend to buy you flowers. He got a bit confused along the way.

word count: 1.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You’d never been the type of girl who particularly enjoyed flashy, grand gestures. In fact, the mere thought of all eyes on you as a boy professed his undying love for you made you want to toss yourself off of the astronomy tower. And yet, here you were, watching as Lorenzo Berkshire presented your best friend, Daphne Greengrass, with yet another huge bouquet of gorgeous flowers and wishing your own boyfriend would do the same.

You let out a soft sigh, glancing at your boyfriend whose arm was wrapped securely around your shoulders as the two of you lounged on the sofa in the library. Matteo wasn’t a bad boyfriend by any means. Really, you loved the way he showered you in attention, always eager to please. However, he wasn’t exactly up to speed when it came to romantic gestures. Normally you didn’t mind, but every girl wanted to be treated like a princess sometimes you supposed.

“Oh Enz, these are beautiful!” Daphne gushed, giving her boyfriend a peck on the lips as he smiled adoringly down at her.

“Anything for you love,” the boy replies easily, taking the seat next to her, and pulling her in so that she was leaning into him.

“Geez, get a bloody room would you?” Theodore complains as the two cozy up together.

You roll your eyes at your friend. “Shut it Theo, I think it’s sweet.” You then turn to your own boyfriend. “You know Matteo, Enz gets Daphne flowers every week. I wish you did that.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives you a confused look.

“Really?” He asks.

You nod earnestly. “I think it’d be nice.”

Matteo gives you another concerned glance before shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright, love.” He says, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You smile warmly at the boy, resting your head on his shoulder before continuing your reading for ancient runes.

“I’m proud of you for finally sticking up for yourself, y/n.” Daphne says, placing her bag down as she takes a seat next to you in the Great Hall.

“Oh? What chapter did we miss?” Pansy asks from across the table where she and Astoria sat.

You furrow your eyebrows, also confused as to where Daph was going with this.

“In the library this afternoon, y/n finally got on Matt’s case about how he never does anything romantic for her. I mean, you’ve been together for what? Almost a year? And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring you flowers. Not once!” Daphne says, filling her plate.

“Oh. I mean, I really don’t mind all that much to be honest. You and Enzo just always look so sweet, I thought it’d be nice for a change. I don’t really expect him to do it every week like Enzo does,” you reply.

“See, but it’s the principle of it all isn’t it? Of course I like the fact that Draco is constantly buying me random gifts, but I would be fine without them. It’s that he’s thinking of me, and taking a bit of time to go out of his way to show me that, yeah?” Astoria says.

You tilt your head, considering your friend’s words.

“I suppose I never thought of it like that,” you tell her.

“Well you should. The bloody bullshit we put up with dating those boys, buying us nice things is really the least they can do,” she replies.

You let out a snort, laughing at your friend’s candidness.

As if to illustrate her point, the rowdy laughter of the boys could be heard from the entrance as they made their way over to your table. You frown as Matteo takes his usual place beside you, seeing a fresh cut on his cheekbone.

“Matteo Bartholomew Riddle.” You sigh, reaching up to touch his face.

“Bartholomew? Bloody hell mate, I’d have to avada myself with a middle name like that,” Draco laughs, plopping down next to Astoria.

He doesn’t even flinch as your finger tips make contact with the cut, only sighing as he glares at Draco before looking down at you with his large puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck off Lucius. And you know that isn’t even my middle name, love,” he says, reaching across the table to steal a roll from Theo’s plate.

“Well you won’t tell me your real one, so I’ll continue making up ridiculous ones until then. Now what on earth did you get up to now, and how many days of detention did you get?”

Matteo frowns, jutting out his bottom lip at you.

“What makes you so sure I got a detention?”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow at the boy.

“Three days. With McGonagall.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head and turn back to face Astoria whose face practically read ‘you see what I mean?’

“Man got into a scuffle with some Hufflepuff. Swear those yellow bastards look unassuming but they’re demons,” Theo says filling you and the other girls in.

Matteo glares at his friend.

“Snitch,” he mumbles, stuffing the roll into his mouth.

“Like she wasn’t going to find out anyway,” Theo replies, brushing him off.

Once again rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you focus on finishing your meal, listening to the idle chatter of your friends as Matteo’s hand finds yours under the table.

By the following week, you had all but forgotten your request for your boyfriend to bring you flowers. When you saw Matteo enter the Great Hall with a large bouquet of assorted flowers however, a smile grew across your face. Then, your smile wavered slightly, growing into confusion as Matteo made his way to the other side of the table, tapping Daphne on the shoulder.

Daphne and Enzo look back at Matteo with utter confusion as your boyfriend thrusts the flowers towards your friend.

“Uh. Here.” He says awkwardly as the two stare up at him with bewilderment.

You blink once. Then twice before Daphne breaks the silence.

“Matteo, respectfully, what the fuck?” She asks.

“Look, I don’t know either. I’m just as confused as you are,” Matteo says, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

You look incredulously between your boyfriend, the flowers, and finally Daphne before realization hits you and your head drops into your hand. This bloody idiot.

“Matteo. Love. When I said, Enzo brings Daphne flowers every week, you should too, I meant for me. As in, you should bring your girlfriend flowers too,” you say with exasperation. Lord help you.

Matteo’s mouth forms an ‘o’ before he smiles sheepishly at you, rounding the table and now thrusting the flowers towards you.

“For you, my lady,” he says proudly.

You let out a laugh, accepting the flowers as your boyfriend takes his seat next to you.

“Matt you are so lucky y/n puts up with your shit,” Daphne sighs, shaking her head fondly at the two of you.

“But also, ever try giving my girl flowers again and I’ll curse your bed. I know where you sleep.” Enzo adds.

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t scared of you Berkshire you big softie.”

“I’ll Avada you.”

“I’d write you letters in Azkaban.” Daphne says sweetly as the boys continue to throw threats each other’s way.

You shake your head at your friend’s antics, smiling softly as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the flowers your boyfriend had finally presented you with.

“Thank you Matteo,” you say, briefly interrupting the boy’s loud chattering to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek.

I know this is so short, but I’ve been wanting to write this scene for the longest time, and couldn’t find a way to fit it into a longer fic 🫠

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | three.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 6.6k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, dinner w/ yeosang!, feelings are laid out oof, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, a bit more of jiwoo vs. wooyoung, use of pet names (princess, love, baby girl, baby), lots and lots of kissing, making out, mentions of marking, some dry humping, unprotected sex, slow sweet sex??, wooyoung pulls out 🫢

So, you agree to the dinner with Yeosang but you don't expect how terrible it ends up playing out.

At first, it starts off well.

It felt like dinner wouldn't be so bad, and you enjoyed seeing Yeosang being his usual self from the car ride up to the restaurant. When he pulls into a spot in the parking lot and helps you out of the car, there is a bit of a difference in Yeosang's attitude. He slides his hand into yours as he leads the way into the restaurant and as much as you adore your bestfriend, it feels incredibly unnatural. 

It surely doesn't feel like Wooyoung's, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

He continues to loosely hold your hand until the host brings you to a table near the back end of the restaurant. You didn't think tonight's dinner would be so fancy, but you were in your business casual attire straight out of work; it ended up working out well in the end. You scoot into the booth, with Yeosang on the other side. He immediately orders a bottle of white wine, which isn't really to your liking as you've learned, but you'll make do with what you have— especially to get through this dinner.

You order appetizers along with your main courses, indulging in good conversation with Yeosang as he tells you work updates and how he's being dragged to this really important meeting over the weekend with the board of directors by his team lead. 

It's all good. It's all fun and casual, until it isn't.

Meanwhile, Jiwoo stops by her brother's apartment to drop off some sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant. It's her way of saying 'thank you' without actually having to say it out loud.

"What now?" Wooyoung swings his door open to see his sister standing there with a bag of food.

"Hi to you, too." She drops it on his kitchen counter. "Bought you food from Sushi Kashiwa." 

"Aw, just say it." He pretends to pout while she gives him a disgusted look and unties the bag.

"No. Besides, I bought myself some food and am gonna enjoy it right here." She lays out the containers and grabs her own. "My friends decided to leave me out of a very important dinner tonight."

"What are you talking about?" He pops open the lid to his sushi container and wastes no time digging in.

"Y/N went to dinner with Yeosang. I guess to talk about stuff going on between them, I don't know." Wooyoung pauses mid-chew, the statement hitting him right in his gut. He's not sure why he's sad— maybe he's right after all. Maybe this just ended up being a temporary one night thing that would eventually wash away.

Sucks it doesn't necessarily feel that way for Wooyoung.

He can't assume, though. Hopefully, you're talking to Yeosang and giving him the honest 'i think we should just stay friends' talk instead of the 'let's just see where this goes' talk. He'd appreciate the universe if it could give him this one thing; he'll stop running his parents' last nerve and will never look at a booty ever again.

Maybe.

"Oh." Is all Wooyoung says before stuffing another piece into his mouth. "Why would you even be there, Jiwoo? That doesn't concern you."

"Anything with my friends concerns me."

"Let them talk it out without your loud, nosey ass interrupting." She rolls her eyes, scrolling through her phone as she also continues to eat.

"I haven't gotten any new texts from her. I wonder if it's going well. Maybe they're gonna explore this after all."

"Who says?" Wooyoung responds a little too quickly, a little too sharply, for his liking. His sister doesn't seem to catch on, though. That's great.

"I dunno, beats me. I'm just taking all angles into consideration."

"Stop projecting. She seemed to be pretty set on her decision at the party."

"You never know." She says in a sing-song tone that irks Wooyoung a little more than usual this evening. "You're right, though. She is set on her decision. I just hope he takes it well." She sets her phone aside. "Anyway. How'd you like the party?"

"Gotta admit, it was fun."

"You really looked like Y/N's date. I had a few people ask me if you two were dating."

"Uh, I mean I was her date? And why would they ask when I already told them yes?" He jokes, just to push his sister's buttons.

"No way." Jiwoo continues to eat away at her food, texting Hongjoong in the midst of it. "Y/N is too good for you."

"No one is too good for anyone. Don't speak on shit you don't know."

"I know her!"

"And I know her, too!"

"I know her the best." Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"Still doesn't mean you know everything about her."

"Ew, why are you getting so defensive tonight?" He shakes his head, feeling the irritation within him grow the more Jiwoo presses it. He knows he isn't the best man to walk this Earth, but he also knows he'd be good to you. Good for you. He's been thinking about it a lot and he hates that he is— none of this makes sense to him, but he knows he'd be good.

"Don't you have to go see Hongjoong?"

"Once he's off, yeah." Jiwoo sips on her water. "What're you doing tonight? Getting into more shit with Choi San?"

"No, he's actually visiting his parents."

"Hm." She hums. "No booty call coming over?"

"No. Even if there was, you would not be getting that information." She scoffs.

"Grow up, Wooyoung."

"Grow up, Wooyoung." He mocks her. "Says the one who made the wild claim based off of nothing."

"You're so annoying." She tosses her sushi container into his trash before washing her cup of water. Despite their usual bickering, Jiwoo stays for a bit longer until Hongjoong texts her and lets her know he's finally off of work after putting in some overtime. Jiwoo helps tidy up Wooyoung's space before she's waving goodbye [aka flipping him off] and slamming his door shut. Wooyoung plops back onto his couch with the remainder of his food resting on the coffee table, scrolling through his phone. He goes through your texts, wondering if he should say anything or keep silent. He smiles to himself when he sees the pictures you've passed along from the photographer. He sees you've posted the picture with him on your Instagram and it tugs at his heart because not only do you rarely use Instagram, but you took that opportunity to post your pictures from the party— including the one where you've got your hand resting on his chest while he has an arm around you. He was happy to see you happy and comfortable. Having fun. 

You glowed. 

He'll never forget it.

—OLD TEXTS

you: hi! they uploaded the pics from the party!

you: *sends a group of pics at once*

wooyoung: yo goddamn!? we look good!

wooyoung: you look so pretty. 😍

you: 😀 stop !!

wooyoung: i'm so serious, good LORD. 😮‍💨

you: i'm blocking you.....

wooyoung: woah now, hey i'm kiddddding....

wooyoung: not really! but don't block me! i just can't help it!

you: you're too much 😂

wooyoung: can i post these?

you: go for it!

wooyoung: thank you ☺️

He sighs as he reaches the end of the thread.

He won't say anything. He'll let this unfold as it should, but it doesn't mean he can't be sad about it. Cause he sure as hell is and he's a bit anxious. Hopefully, you'll tell Yeosang the truth. Hopefully, you won't force yourself into anything you don't want or feel uncomfortable with.

As for you, the dinner really takes its turn for the worse after you and Yeosang eat away at your main meals, a pregnant silence falling between you two after a good hour of just talking and yapping away about life. You already knew it was coming at this point, you were just hoping you'd buy a little more time [as if you could put it off even more]. 

"So." He says awkwardly to cut the silence.

"Mhm?"

"Did you really enjoy the party?"

"I did. Did you?"

"Yeah. I just—" He looks at you with his head cocked to the side. "I was just surprised seeing you with Wooyoung." You pause before poking at your pasta and taking a small bite. 

"Oh yeah, it was relatively last minute."

"Jiwoo's plan?"

"Why do you say that? Do you genuinely think Wooyoung wouldn't go with me?" You ask, a little offended at the way he sounds cause even though it was clearly planned and arranged, the insinuation from Yeosang doesn't hurt any less. 

"No, not like that— I'm sorry, it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. That's all." You cock a brow up. 

"It just happened that way. Wooyoung wanted to go and I wanted to go in the end." Is all you respond with, chugging your second glass of wine before pouring yourself more. You really don't like the taste of this white wine either, but you'll take it cause it's better than sitting here without an ounce of alcohol to push you through. Give you more courage to finish the evening on a decent note, to be honest. "I had a really fun time, regardless."

"I saw." He pauses. "I wish you would've at least told me instead of showing up like that." 

"I'm sorry."

"I think it's time for me to be honest and stop watching from the sidelines because I.. really like you, Y/N." His shoulders droop just as he sets his fork and knife down neatly onto the plate. You take the last bite of your meal before sipping on more wine to wash it down.

"I should have told you, but I didn't want to hurt you. Even if I did tell you, it wouldn't have changed anything."

"It wouldn't? Why wouldn't it have changed anything? I thought we might've had a chance." He's confused. He looks like he was expecting a completely different outcome, and that might've been your fault for not telling him right away. But, the moment is here now and you know you can't push it off any longer.

"No. I just.. I just can't, Yeo. I'm sorry." You barely get yourself to respond out of fear. You knew Yeosang wasn't the type to react— if anything, he'd be the most understanding. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you were still scared. You felt bad. You didn't want to hurt him, and you wanted to avoid this confrontation as much as possible even though you knew you needed to face it sooner than later. "I truthfully think we're good with where we're at, and I don't think we should mess that up. I love the way we are as good friends, bestfriends, and that's how I've always seen us." You can see the disappointment growing on his face every second, but he's trying hard to keep it under wraps while he briefly waves the waitress down for the check.

"C-can I ask? You can be honest." You silently nod. "Is it Wooyoung?" You shake your head.

"It was never about Wooyoung. Just us. Well, me. You're amazing, and you deserve the best. You deserve someone who is sure about you and who will reciprocate those feelings to no end. I'm sorry that I can't be that person, but at the same time, I know I can be your friend just like I always have been. That's what I can give you, and I hope you understand." You tell him softly. "I'm sorry." You repeat, feeling the tears brimming your bottom lids. "I should've opened up earlier. I really hope this doesn't change things between us."

"It won't, but I hope you understand it'll take me some time to move past it. I'm sorry for assuming or for— yeah." He shakes his thoughts away.

"Take all the time you need." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

"Anyway." Yeosang signs off on the receipt before tucking his card back into his wallet and standing. "Let's get you home."

"Okay." You shimmy out of the booth to head out of the restaurant. This time, Yeosang doesn't hold your hand. In fact, he trails behind you, keeping at a safe distance. You can immediately see the change— how stiff and awkward he's become. You don't blame him for it; he's hurting and you know he needs his space more than anything. 

You can't wait to get home.

The ride is fucking awful. It's the most quiet you've seen Yeosang. The most closed-off and serious he's ever been towards you. His hand is clutching the wheel tightly, but the music is comforting enough to fill the void. You continue to look out of the passenger's window, keeping to yourself until Yeosang asks about your plans for the rest of the weekend. There isn't much going on for you, so that conversation dies quickly. Luckily for you, Yeosang is about to pull up to your street. He stops the car by your building, shifting the gear to park before helping you out of the car. You give him a small, sympathetic smile before pulling him into a hug— giving his back a gentle rub.

"Sleep well, alright? I'll see you next week."

"You too." With that, he walks off, waiting until you at least unlock and crack your door open. When you get a whiff of your candle that you lit up earlier in the morning, you realize you don't really wanna stay home right now; to sulk, to drown in your thoughts alone, to have to listen to the loudness in a quiet space. So, you shut the door again, head back down the steps and walk to the convenience store nearby. You grab a bottle of yogurt soju, along with your favorite chips and strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar— plopping yourself down onto one of the tables right outside the store. You're quick to crack open the bottle and drink away, also eating away at the chips since you didn't feel incredibly satisfied with the dinner earlier. It might've just been all the emotions and tension in the air, but anywho, the chips and the soju taste better than ever. Sooner or later, you find yourself tipsier, cheeks lit on fire, hands clammy; barely hitting the halfway point with the soju bottle. You lazily scroll through your phone as you begin to eat away at the ice cream bar, revisiting those party pictures.

You wonder what Wooyoung is doing, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

"Ugh." You whine and pout to yourself, pulling up your texts to see if Jiwoo can come to your rescue. You opted for listing Jiwoo and Wooyoung as Jung 1 and Jung 2 to keep it easy and simple; except, it obviously doesn't work well in this case when you accidentally pull up the text with Jung 2 instead of Jung 1 while you wipe away at the tears that suddenly begin to stream down your cheeks.

you: oof .... that dinner was kinda awful i feel terrible

you: kinda?! not even kinda it WAS awfullll

you: i'm sitting outside of our fav convenience store by my olace

you: eating strawberry cheesecake ice cfream!!

you: jiwooooooo

you: jung 1!!!!

Wooyoung furrows his brows at the constant dinging of his phone, unsure of who the hell could be blowing up his phone right now. He even sits for a minute, wondering if there's anybody he's pissed off in the last few days [besides his sister].

"Hm." He hums when he comes up with nothing, nobody. He picks up the phone and scrolls through the previews, chuckling to himself when he sees your name pop up on the screen. Clearly by accident.

you: jiwoo jung 1 pls help come to my rescue it was not good! idk if yeo n i will be friens still ☹️☹️☹️

wooyoung: sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but this is jung 2. 😙

wooyoung: also i won't hold it against you that i've been slotted as number 2 when i should be number 1 esp after the party. 🫤 but it's cool or whatever......

You squint at the brightness of your phone, slowly eating away at your strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar. You almost drop the damn thing when you realize you've actually been blowing up the wrong phone, horrified it had to be Wooyoung, too.

He must think you're a gem, truly.

He does, though. In a very good, non-sarcastic way.

you: omggg i'm so sorry wooyoung jung 2 ☹️

you: i mean jung 1 technically

wooyoung: lol no worries, don't be sorry. you okay?

you: yes but no?

wooyoung: stay put.

You cock a brow up in confusion, wondering if Wooyoung was telling you to stay put because he was on his way or because he just needed you to get yourself together. You listen anyway, sitting on the little chair outside of the convenience store, silently eating away at your ice cream with your phone lit on your lap. You completely forget about texting Jiwoo amidst all of this, assuming she's busy anyway. The wind is slowly picking up, cooling the tip of your nose and surface of your cheeks— settling the heat from the soju.  You shiver and run a hand down your arm, hoping the wind slows in between its waves. You continue to mindlessly scroll through your phone, even picking up your game of Wordle for the day. Just as you get lost in thought, a car parks in a spot in between your building and the convenience store. You look up as you bite into the last of your ice cream bar, hearing the muffled bass from the music in the car. Wooyoung steps out in a grey hoodie and matching sweats, a black beanie on his head. He approaches you with a small smile with his hands dug deep into his pockets, crouching to your level as he continues to look at you.

"W-Wooyoung." You hiccup as you sit on the bench, setting your trash down next to you. Wooyoung gives you a small smile, thumb wiping away at your tears.

"Wanna tell me why you've been out here eating ice cream alone?" He eyes your snacks of choice. "And.. a half bottle of soju and chips? I thought you had dinner with Yeosang."

"I did, and it was terrible and sad." You sniff. "Well, not the food. I just couldn't enjoy it as much. I even tried to drink that bitter white wine he ordered just to get me through."

"And you're drinking soju now? Really must have been that bad."

"Bad bad." You pout and he laughs.

"I'm sorry." He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before patting it. "Come on, let's get you home." He stands, holding out his hand. You gladly take it in yours, his thumb swiping over your knuckles in an attempt to try and warm it up. He grabs the soju and the chips in his other, leading the way to your building. He quietly heads up the steps, stepping aside and letting go of your hand to let you open your door. When you step back into the warmth of your studio, you instantly kick off your shoes and slip into your slippers—lighting up your candle to bring more heat into the room.

"I'm gonna set your chips and soju aside." Wooyoung says, tightly tying your chips close so it doesn't get stale before setting your bottle of soju aside in the fridge.

"Thank you." You set your bag down and let out a sigh.

"Glad I was able to get you home safely." He chuckles a bit, jingling his keys in his hand. You don't want Wooyoung to leave, especially after he made the effort to get dressed and come to your rescue.

"Wooyoung?" He cocks a brow up when you turn to face him. "Can you stay?" He takes a moment before he nods, unsure how he could turn you down with you looking up at him that way. 

So innocently. So delicately. Eyes yearning for company you can be comforted with, need to be comforted with.

"Yeah, of course. As long as you're okay with me poking around and making some food." You giggle and nod.

"Go for it." You grab your pajamas. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Feel free to get comfortable and flip through the channels." You turn on the TV for him before shutting yourself within the bathroom walls to shower and get comfy for the evening. 

As you shower and get ready for bed that evening, you hear Wooyoung humming and singing a Blackstreet song to himself in your kitchen. After brushing your teeth, you finish up the last of your skincare routine before heading back outside.

"Finally." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder and quickly scans you from head to toe. "I was getting lonely."

"I didn't even take that long."

"It was long. You and Jiwoo take the longest showers known to man." He frowns a bit, making you giggle to yourself. You plop on your couch, now in your oversized crewneck and pajama pants. You're no longer tipsy, probably a little too sober for your liking especially knowing Wooyoung is in your studio. You do find his company comforting, though. You feel bad he had to come and rescue you, but you'd rather be here than anywhere else after that dinner with Yeosang. You tuck your legs to your chest, flipping through the tv channels only to land on Kiki's Delivery Service. It's already 20 minutes in, but it doesn't bother you knowing the movie so well. Wooyoung is still going through your stash of food, pulling out a bowl of jajangmyeon. While he waits for the hot water to properly cook the noodles, he dices up some pickled radish and some cucumbers, and quickly boils two eggs to perfection. When the noodles are done, he sets everything into the bowl neatly before grabbing a cold water bottle and plopping onto the couch next to you.

"What'd you do today?" You look at him just as he starts digging into the bowl.

"Work. Then Jiwoo came earlier in the night with some food from my favorite Japanese spot."

"Sushi Kashiwa?"

"Aw, you know?" Wooyoung smirks.

"Because Jiwoo has mentioned it one too many times." You chuckle. "That's cute, though."

"She only did it cause she was waiting for Hongjoong to get out of work. And to kiss my ass about the party."

"And because she loves you." He fake shivers.

"Ew. Please don't say that again." He looks at you and you snort. "Want a bite? I made it for us to share in case you were still hungry." He edges his chopsticks your way, watching as you shake your head in response.

"I'm good. Thank you though, Woo."

"Suit yourself, princess. I whipped up a good one." You laugh, settling into the couch as you continue to watch the movie. Wooyoung catches you slipping your sleeves over your palms in his peripherals and although he's pretty warm and cozy in your studio, you must still feel cold. He hurriedly slurps up the remaining of the noodles before gulping the entirety of his water bottle down. He lets out a noise that makes you laugh, kicking his head back in satisfaction. "Damn, that was good."

"Glad you enjoyed." You poke his arm and he smiles. "Is this movie okay with you?"

"Yeah, of course. Can never go wrong with Studio Ghibli movies. Unless, you're down to watch something scary?"

"Never." 

"Why not? I'm here."

"But, whatever scary movie we'll watch, it'll live in my head for the next few days and you won't be here."

"I could be, you just have to call me and I'll come. Like tonight."

"Wooyoung." You pout. "Today's was an accident."

"So, you didn't want me to come? That's funny, cause I didn't see another text from you after I told you to stay put, baby girl." He smirks and you shake your head shyly.

"I'm sorry." You continue to fiddle with your sleeves.

"Don't be. I'm just teasing, I wanted to come."

"Thank you. I needed it." You finally manage to let out as you look at him and scooch a little closer. He gives you a tiny smile before shifting his attention back to the TV, the both of you engaging in small talk about the characters here and there.

At some point, Wooyoung subtly inches in and closes off any gaps, quietly slipping his arm behind you. You silently chuckle to yourself when you see him playing it off, acting as if he hadn't done anything to get closer to you. But, the whole thing feels.. nice. It feels safe. It feels warm. Wooyoung really isn't expecting anything out of this— he is testing the waters to see how comfortable you'd be with him, but that's truly it. That's the intention. Just to make you feel comfortable and better after tonight's dinner. He definitely wasn't expecting you to lean your head against him, snuggling up to him as closely as possible. 

"You okay? Comfortable?" He asks softly. You look up at him and nod, settling back into your position on him.

"Mhm. You're warm." He laughs a bit when he hears that, keeping you close. As the movie continues with the both of you watching silently, you find yourself shifting in your position; arm fully coming around Wooyoung's torso. He doesn't mind one bit. As a matter of fact, he loves that you've gotten comfortable enough to do so.

He drops his arm down from the edge of the couch, holding you from behind as the movie continues to play. He gently rubs at your side before his hand falls to your hips. You feel Wooyoung's hand gently squeeze at it before sneaking right underneath your sweater. You freeze, but more so because you're surprised by his touch— not because you don't want him to be right where he is.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I don't know. I just feel bad." You say, eyes still on the TV ahead while you slowly began to relax in his hold.

"You were honest with him, right?" Wooyoung asks as a simple way to poke for more information and get you to open up about dinner. "Wanna tell me how the dinner went?" He traces faint, soft circles on your bare side.

"I was, and I guess that's why I feel bad. It started off fine. We went to the restaurant and we were talking as we always do. Random topics, jokes, going on about life updates. It went downhill when we got our food. It was quiet for a little bit and I knew he was thinking about what to say or how to say it." You pause. "He asked if I enjoyed the party. I said yes, then he asked if it was Jiwoo's plan." Wooyoung cocks a brow.

"What'd you say?"

"I got kinda defensive." You sigh, leaving out the whole moment of you asking Yeo if he thought Wooyoung wouldn't genuinely go to a party with you. "But anyway, I said you wanted to go.. and so did I. And I had a fun time with you."

"Atta girl." He laughs a bit. "And then?"

"He apologized and said he just wished I told him instead of surprisingly showing up. Then.. he laid it out. Said he had feelings for me and couldn't watch on the sidelines anymore. He felt like there could've been a chance, which was probably my fault for keeping that door open for too long." You sit up and face him, Wooyoung's arm still lazily holding you from behind. "I told him that even if I told him about the party beforehand, it wouldn't have changed anything because I couldn't. I liked us the way we were and that we were good as bestfriends. He deserved someone who was sure of him and who could reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly."

"Then, you didn't do anything wrong, Y/N." You shrug before subconsciously grabbing a piece of lint on Wooyoung's hoodie and flicking it off. 

"He asked something else."

"Which was?"

"He asked if this was about you, a-and I said no." You avoid eye contact and lick your lips out of nervousness. 

"I see." Wooyoung smiles a bit before shifting up in his seat to get closer to you. He leans his cheek onto the palm of his hand, his arm that was behind you is now on the back of the couch— elbow resting on the edge. "Why can't you look at me?" He smirks teasingly.

"I am." You look at him for a minute before shifting your eyes elsewhere in the living room. 

"Was it really not about me, hm?" He hums, brushing the hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. "You can tell me, love." He tries to pull you closer by the hand, and you let him.

"Can I?" His eyes quickly shift to the way you play around with his fingers.

"Course."

"Maybe it was."

"Just maybe?" He looks at your lips. "You think that's why you feel bad?" Brief pause. "That you might actually have feelings for me and you couldn't tell him that part?"

"Maybe." You repeat, his lips only inches away from yours. "Isn't that kinda silly?"

"No? I still don't think you did anything wrong, Y/N."

"Really, Woo?" There you go asking him so sweetly again. It's at this point when Wooyoung feels like he can no longer contain himself because you're giving him the answer he had been looking for; straight on a silver platter. 

"Mhm. As far as I know, you were honest when it came to him. What's between us is our business and not his." He says, his tone just barely above a whisper. You don't really know what comes over you, maybe you did have a little bit of liquid courage still running through your veins especially cause what happens next catches you slightly off-guard. You're so sure about your feelings for him, but unsure about Wooyoung's and how he even feels. This could all be a game that he plays, something he does with other women even if he says it isn't.

Guess it doesn't matter much right now. Can't, anyways.

Within the next second, you find yourself initiating the first kiss with Wooyoung; a kiss that feels long overdue. You lean forward and press your lips against his own soft, plump lips, quickly pulling back to get ready and apologize—

But, he doesn't let you. 

He chases after you.

He cups your cheeks and brings you back, thumb gently caressing the surface of your cheek. You haven't kissed someone like this in awhile, but with Wooyoung, it feels.. right. 

Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.

He tries to take it slow with you, even when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your arms around him. The kiss becomes more heated, lips bruising from the rising intensity, hunger. Wooyoung slowly slips his tongue in, and hearing a small whimper from you in response only has him gripping your hips harder.

He quickly learns he likes kissing you.

"Been waiting to do this." He says against your lips.

"Have you?" You ask, your tone filled with lust as you continue to peck him with small, repeated kisses.

"Just didn't wanna scare you away."

"You wouldn't have."

"Have to be extra careful with you, baby. You aren't just anybody." The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily that it makes your head tilt back as the desire builds. He continues to hold you close as you slowly roll your hips against him, Wooyoung now kissing your jaw before gently sucking and licking on the surface of your neck;

The column, your throat.

You feel him come to the base and suck a little harder, and you're hoping it doesn't leave much of a mark. If it does, it doesn't fucking matter to you right now— nothing does. Because all you want is for Wooyoung to devour you. To give you everything, to ruin you so good.

"Is this okay? I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with—"

"Keep going, Wooyoung. Please." You cut him off. It takes a second for Wooyoung to register your pleading, that 'please' being the one thing that flips his switch. It's not only a want, but a heavy craving. He's got some sort of eagerness to show you just what you've been missing.

"Hold onto me." He says, lifting you with ease as he carries you over to your bed and plops you onto the mattress. He slowly crawls over you, his warm, large hands now cascading up your sweatshirt. Your breathing hitches when he reaches just above your rib cage, and Wooyoung stops when he feels your body tense in his grip. "You sure you're okay?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, down to your nose, your lips. He looks you in the eye with slight concern, afraid of scaring you. The last thing he wants you to think is that he's purely using you for other reasons— when it's definitely more than that.

Wooyoung wants to show you, in case he's bad at voicing his feelings. Cause he can be, clearly. But, he could at least show you and take care of you properly.

"I am."

"You trust me, yeah?" You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod, continuing to keep contact with Wooyoung. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."

"I want you to." This time, Wooyoung dips forward to lock you into another deep, fervent kiss. His hands are finally roaming further up; Wooyoung letting out a low groan when he finds out you're braless. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple, tongues fighting for dominance while your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair. You toss his beanie off just as he starts to tug your crewneck over your head and you follow suit with his hoodie. He nibbles on your jaw just before sucking harshly on the skin of your neck. His hand travels down and slips into your pajama pants, fingers delicately rubbing at your clothed pussy that sends a million jolts down your spine. You twitch in response, and Wooyoung can't help but chuckle against your neck.

"So reactive." He teases.

"It's been awhile, Woo."

"And? That's fine, baby. Told you I'd take good care of you." He raises himself slightly to watch your reaction in real-time. "Does that feel good?" He asks, close to a whisper. 

"Yes." You bite your bottom lip and shut your eyes, sighing in satisfaction.

"God. Can feel how wet you are already." Wooyoung feels himself getting painfully hard against your thigh, imagining how tight you are. He doesn't wanna waste another moment, and he thinks he'll lose it if he isn't inside of you within the next few seconds. "Let's take this off, hm?" He hums, hands already tugging your panties and pajama pants down. "Do you have a condom?"

"Don't need it. I'm on the pill." 

"You're sure? I'm clean, but I'll do whatever you're okay with. Just say the word." He asks again to be extra sure.

"I am, I'm sure." You nod eagerly. The pill was mainly to help regulate your heavy, irregular periods, but you'd say you do appreciate it a little more now for this particular reason.

"You're so hot, jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung doesn't say anything else before he's keenly kissing you again, hastily getting out of his sweats. 

Sooner or later, the rest of Wooyoung's clothes are joining yours on the floor; Wooyoung not wasting any seconds reattaching his lips to yours after slipping them off. 

Wooyoung pauses when he sees you fixed on his length— eyes hazy and full of desire. It's giving Wooyoung the biggest fucking ego boost, but that's not important. He strokes himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. He slowly eases himself in, the both of you letting out lewd moans as you both adjust to the feeling. You're tightly wrapped around him and Wooyoung has to keep his composure as he buries himself deep to the hilt. Wooyoung keeps his pace slow and steady; forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts into you. It's nothing rushed, everything about it is slow— so tender, so careful. 

So safe.

"Wooyoung." You moan his name and his brain short-circuits every time you say it the way you do. On top of that, your little whimpers are doing a number on him, but he's trying to keep it together for awhile longer. 

"Doing so well for me, love." He gently bites your chin just as he slightly picks up his pace. He hovers a bit, lips coming back up to meet you in a sweet kiss. He holds it for a minute longer, tongue swiping over your lips as he rolls his hips into you. 

It's intimate. 

It's deep. 

It's raw. 

It's nothing he'd do to his booty calls, no. Everything about those moments are forced and rushed, the end goal having to nut as quickly as possible and get them the hell out of his space.

With you, he's loving every second. He wants to relish in the way your walls feel around him, wants to relish in the way your fingers thread through his hair, wants to relish in the way you kiss him so slowly, so passionately. Like every kiss holds the answers to the universe and you're afraid you'll miss a single detail.

He rests his nose, lips, against your cheek just as he releases a shaky breath, still taking his time as he works his way with you. He comes down to your neck and leaves feathery pecks against the surface while his body is pressed flushed against yours. He turns his head and you've fully wrapped your arms around him. The pace is perfect, with Wooyoung working his hips in circular motions just to hit you in all the right places. He praises you as you continue to moan for him, pretty little mewls slipping from your lips while he tells you how captivating, how angelic, you are for him.

How perfect you are for him.

You find your hips have a mind of their own, working to match Wooyoung's movements. You feel the pleasure building quick at your core, and you know it won't take long from there.

"Wooyoung— just like that, please—oh my god." You sob. While he continues to expertly thrust into you and keep you close, the friction against him causes the coil within you to snap harshly, nails digging deep into Wooyoung's shoulders while he thrusts harder, a bit rougher, to meet his high. 

"F-fuck, baby. I'm about to—" He moans a little louder when he feels you clench a few times around him from the aftershock, quickly pulling out and releasing onto your pussy and abdomen. "Shit—fuck." He pants, finally coming back down from euphoria to see how mesmerizing you look splayed out beneath him; white ribbons of cum painted on your skin. He's completely enamored by you. "Mm'sorry babygirl, let's get you cleaned up." You giggle and shake your head.

"Please, it's fine. Stop looking, you're making me shy again."

"Don't be. You look beautiful." He laughs, slipping on his boxers. "Let me clean you up." He runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes, doing a light jog to clean you up well. You grab your panties and your crewneck after he's done— throwing them on and snuggling under your covers. You fully expect Wooyoung to get dressed and leave [which would suck], but he doesn't. You quietly watch as he shuts off your TV and the lights, going to the bathroom for a quick wash up. Afterwards, he immediately slips underneath your covers right next to you, pulling you onto his chest.

"You're staying?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckles. "C'mere." He pulls you closer. "Sleepy?"

"Incredibly." He smiles.

"I put in some work, huh?"

"Wooyoung." You pout, lightly smacking his chest.

"I'm just joking." He subtly bites his lip. "Can I have one more kiss before we sleep?" You lean up and peck him on the lips a few times, with Wooyoung holding the last kiss before pulling away. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight." You mumble, falling asleep within seconds as you cuddle snuggly against him. Because with Wooyoung, it feels.. right.

Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd

[puckinghischier]

i just knowwww quinn has this streak of jealousy within him at all times.

like, even when you’re just joking around with jack and luke, you KNOW he’s giving them side eye the whole time, not appreciating how touchy jack is when the two of you are laughing at one of his bad jokes, or the way luke always seems to squeeze you extra tight during goodbye or hello hugs.

and it not that he’s doing it in a toxic way, really, he just always wants you all to himself. he loves the relationship you have with his brothers, truly, but you’re the one thing that he gets to have that they don’t. you were his friend first. you always wanted to come to the lake to spend time with him. you go to all of his games. live in his city. he’s had to share everything with his younger brothers growing up. the same hockey teams, the same coaches, luke following his footsteps and playing for michigan, jack being on team usa with him, their stats always being compared, and everything else about them.

which, he loves the fact that they all made it into the league and he loves experiencing all of this with his brothers, but sometimes it’s nice to just have something that’s yours.

and when you’re out at the bar with him? game over. if a man so much as looks in your direction with any sort of impure intentions, quinn is on you like glue. not that he doesn’t trust you. he trusts you infinitely, but he doesn’t trust everyone else. he makes sure your drink is always full so guys don’t try to buy one for you. he’s got a hand on you at all times, letting everyone know who you came there with. he’s always there to guide you to and from the bathroom, making sure you don’t get cornered by some drunk man looking for a good time.

at games, when he watches guys attempt to flirt with you in the stands, even though you’re wearing his name and number on your back, always gets him going, too. he knows you always turn them down, watching you flat out ignore their comments most of the time, but he can’t lie and say it doesn’t fuel him to play that much better, skating over to your section and making some big display of affection towards you after he scores, glaring at whatever man was trying to get your attention that night.

of course, you’re aware of his small jealousy problem, scolding him when he gets too pouty when you’re spending time with his brothers or chatting up his teammates while you wait on him to fulfill his captain duties after games. but you can’t lie and say the slight flare of his nostrils and grumpy furrow of his eyebrows doesn’t give you butterflies, sometimes. knowing he’s not really trying to control you, just wanting your attention, gives your ego a slight boost, if you’re honest.

despite his harsh demeanor and glares when the two of you are out in public, all it takes is one smile from you and he’s mush. he’d do anything you asked him to do (because let’s be honest, we all know he has a subby side), his number one priority always making sure you’re happy, even if he does have to clench his jaw to stop himself from yelling at jack when he plops down next you on the couch during movie night, leaving no room for quinn.

he knows you love him, and he know he loves you with everything in him, but sometimes he just wants to lock you up in his apartment so no one else gets the privilege of seeing your pretty face and hearing your sweet voice. because even though you decided quinn was the lucky one that gets to wake up next to you every morning, doesn’t mean everyone else has a right to experience your beauty and kindness all the time. sometimes he just wanted to be selfish, keep all of your good qualities to himself.

[woahjo]

katsuki rarely drinks. it's not something he enjoys. but one one night, he shows up at your once-shared apartment, smelling like liquor. something sweet and fruity, liked he'd tried to wash a bitter taste from his mouth. to someone who doesn't know him the way you do, a tired sobriety may be assumed. he's that sort when he drinks.

he smiles when he sees you, a bashful kind of smile, despite not having spoken with you for months and you realize that maybe he's forgotten. maybe he's forgotten the last few months when he moved his stuff out of your place, the period of time after the break up where no one would bring up your names in front of the other.

"katsuki? it's the middle of the night," you say to him through the half open door. "what are you doing here?"

katsuki looks at you, clearly tired, and he swallows thick before opening his mouth and closing it again. you wait for him to find his words.

"i wanted to see you," he says.

"you don't live here anymore," you remind him gently, though you're not sure why you assume that he believes he does.

katsuki glances at the ground and then uses the doorframe to steady himself. you can tell that he's trying not to scare you, trying not to use the sheer size of his body. there's something cautious and equally careless about his motions and you tilt your head.

"katsuki?"

"why don't we talk anymore?" he asks you, swallowing again. you wonder where his friends have gotten off to and at what point int he evening they'd noticed that he wandered off.

the question tugs at your heartstrings as you stare at the man in the doorway. it's a pathetic sort of feeling, a weak longing in your chest. you're not sure how to answer. after the break up, things just sort of... fell off. there was nothing to say anymore.

"I want to talk to you," he admits.

this is a side of katsuki that only you are privy to. a quieter, gentler side of him. one where he can openly admit his wants and faults. an exposed bleeding wound that katsuki has never really been able to sew shut.

you shake your head a little.

"talking's hard," you tell him. you're being honest. talking to him is hard. there is so much history there.

"we used to be friends," he reasons, almost as if he's reminding himself.

"yeah," you nod, "we did."

"and now we're not," he adds. "and that fucking sucks."

you nod again.

"it's late, katsuki," you say to him. "you should get home and sleep this off."

katsuki nods, but he lingers. his eyes wander past you into the inside of your apartment, almost as if he can picture himself wandering in. you keep the door half shut.

"we'll talk soon?" he asks, something hopeful in his voice. this vulnerability makes you ache.

"yeah," you respond. "we'll talk soon. fix things."

katsuki nods and then, as if something sobering has come over him, he straightens his back. you furrow your brows as he looks at you, a pink tinge over his cheeks, and wait for what he has to say next.

"sorry to- sorry to bother you so late," he says, a little less gently. he's let a mask slip carefully over his features.

"it's fine," you shake your head. "get home safe, okay? do you need me to call someone for you?"

katsuki shakes his head insistently. "no, no," he says firmly— soberly. "i'm good. i'll see you around."

"okay."

he turns from your step and you watch his back for a moment before quietly shutting the door to your apartment. it feels too quiet now, and you briefly miss the light from the street as you turn back to the empty, darkened rooms.

you wonder if he'll remember coming to your door tomorrow and kick himself for it. you wonder if he'll wake up in the morning, his head pounding, with the mortifying memory of having shown up on your doorstep, telling you that he misses you in a set of different words. or, you wonder if he'll forget. will he wake tomorrow with no memory at all of the first conversation you've shared in months?

it's probably best if he doesn't remember it. then, there'll be nothing to follow up on and nothing to apologize for in the sobering light of day. you won't have to talk to him and be reminded of just how painful every aspect of this is. you have no intention of keeping your promise to talk soon, as much as you might like to fix things. it's best, for the both of you, if you let him fade into the background. then, you can meet him again as strangers—friends of friends—and pretend that the history between you both never happened in the first place.

[mwahsol]

Hot sauce makes me nervous

Description: You have been invited to go on Hot One's First We Feast. It was recently announced that you're releasing an album but when some were looking through the title names they noticed some were romantic names, there have been rumors of you and a specific Uconn basketball player, leading there to already be a lot of attention on the anticipated album. Later on in the interview, you get asked about a specific song already out asking you who and/or what was the inspiration for it. I am using Sabrina and her music as well from other artists as yours in this because I can't think of good song titles…enjoy :)

“It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we’re joined by Y/n L/n, she is one of the most talked about artists. Her debut album from 2021 still to this day is one of the most played in the last four years, some of her latest singles being Please Please Please, Espresso, Nonsense, and The Diner. As well as her new album called Sort n’ Sweet. Y/n L/n welcome to the show.” Sean announces while turning to look at you during the end as to give you the greeting.

“Hi thank you for inviting me, this has been a dream of mine to be here so I am honored and nervous,” you reply a bit nervous since you're fangirling on the inside.

“We’re excited to have you, how are you feeling going into this, are you a fan of hot sauce or prefer to keep things more tame?” He starts with a simple question to try and get you a bit comfortable, keeping things light and steady.

“Umm, I wouldn't say I'm a fan.. when I'm out at dinner I don't go for the spicy flavors but like as a small snack like chips or something yes I'm a fan. Hot sauce makes me all sweaty and nervous if I'm honest.” You say giggling towards the end because you know if you lied your girlfriend's team would never let you live it down when they watch this. “Like one time I thought it was a good idea to try those hot soups filled with peppers and stuff I started to tear up by like the fifth bite.”

At your retelling of the event, Sean is also laughing with you before he starts asking you the question he's prepared and having to dig in.

“I never eat wings with bones in them so this is a little new to me,” you tell him while taking your first bit of the first wing.

“Really? I thought most ate them with the bone in.”

“Yeah I just have an irrational fear of my teeth falling out if I bite down on the bone, that's also why I hate eating with forks.”

Sean and the rest of the people behind the cameras can't help but laugh at your admission. In the background of everyone laughing with you both, you can hear her laughing as well knowing that what you're saying is very much true. Hearing her you turn your head subtly, thinking people wouldn't notice this when posted, looking at her laughing admiring her for a second. You would find out later on people could decently see you turn your head, and if you listened close enough you could hear Paige's laughter in the back.

As the show went on Sean asking you questions about your career, your opinions on your songs, and how you came to be a singer, he asks, “So your song Let the Light In is one of your more romantic yet darker songs. Is there a story behind it or how did the inspiration come to you to create a song like this?”

When hearing his question you started worrying a bit knowing the inspiration wasn't just yours but Paige's too. You look at her in a way asking if she's ok with you answering knowing that this involves a personal situation with her and yourself, when you see her nod and give you an encouraging smile you know she's giving you the go-ahead and will be supportive of your answer. “Well, I wrote the song from my girlfriend mainly, when she had a serious injury and was in a dark place at the time when I met her. As she slowly got better the day she was cleared to play again she told me that she was grateful to have me because meeting me was like a light coming into her life encouraging her to get better. When she told me that I cried because I admitted to her that when I met her I was also at a dark place in my life so meeting her was also like the sun shining after the storm for me. We are each other's lights so I wrote the song for her.” You answer tearing up at the memory but smiling remembering her face when you told her she's your light too.

“It such a heartwarming thing to see how you can take special memories like that and write something beautiful for it, thank you for sharing.” He replied also smiling fondly at you seeing how you made sure with Paige first and telling such a personal moment.

“Thank you too for asking,” you know some interviews would keep pushing for more details, and you're grateful he didn't seeing as how it's not just your story to tell.

By the ninth wing, you started crying while laughing, there were funny instances from you getting a wing and running to Paige telling her to eat it since she was dying by laughing at you, to you falling out of your chair from how fast you turned and reached to grab the milk from the table away from you.

“I feel like my makeup with melting off just by my sweat and tears,” you say struggling to just sit upright but still laughing at your situation.

“Yeah, you look like it.” You heard Paige mumble in the background teasing you knowing it would get a reaction out of you.

“Babe I swear I will go back there and pour this hot sauce down your throat.” Threatening her, not being cautious anymore, while you felt like your mouth was on fire. This makes her laugh even harder as well as the crew and Sean.

After most of the laughter settled down Sean gets ready to ask another question. “This past year you have been spotted at a lot more WCBB and WNBA games, when did you get into watching women's basketball, and why?”

“When I was younger I had brothers that played basketball, they would teach me to play, and tried to get me to watch the NBA. As most big brothers do I just never could get into watching men play but anytime I would find a WNBA game you could bet I was fighting for the controller to put on the game. This year I’ve had a bit more free time since the tour for my last album was done and I took a bit of a break before I started writing this new album so I decided to attend as many as I could.” You weren't technically lying but you did leave out the part where you would mainly go to Uconn games to see your girlfriend back on the court and support her.

“Do you still play?”

“Yeah, a bit nothing serious though,” which is true if anyone on the team asks you to play you would say yes. Paige, while you are both away from Connecticut, if she finds a court shell beg you to play. Even though they're very much significantly taller you'll sometimes land a few points.

“Alright Y/n last one,” he tells you while shaking the last bottle.

“Oh gosh ok ok,” You can feel yourself shaking a little with nervousness but you have to see it through, or else she will never let you forget it. Shaking the bottle as well you try to put a of hot sauce enough to get it but not too much where you're burn your tongue off.

“Before I do this I want the camera and people to see that I did put some on there so she can't say I wussed out,” you tell everyone holding up your wing and looking directly at Paige while she shakes her head laughing at your expression.

“Yes, no one can claim you didn't go through with it, going out with a bang,” Sean tells you backing you up.

When you bite down you can already feel yourself regretting this. You start sweating again, eyes tearing up, nosey runny, you're defiantly making her drive you to go get ice cream.

“So Y/n you stated that in you're elementary through middle school years you took ballet lessons,” as soon as he said those words you knew where this was going and started to mentally prepare yourself, “we wanted to see if you could choreograph a small routine to your song All mine.”

“Of course, I can't promise it'll be good,” you respond while laughing and sniffling.

“Alright let's move these tables and chairs,” Sean says while laughing with you.

When doing your routine you only got a few steps in before you stopped and could continue because of your laughter, “I'm sorry omg I can't do it.”

“Fanominal dance couldn't have asked for better. There it is Y/n L/n taking on the wings of death, living to tell the tale, is there anything you would like to promote.”

“Short n’ Sweet comes out August, listen to it please it'll make me feel better from this. Watch the WNBA they're really cool and watch WCBB they're really cool too.” Biding everyone goodbye while still panting a little.

“Those wings got you good hm baby?” Paige says while driving to a McDonalds to get you a ice cream you almost demanded for.

“Paige, honey, I love you but I swear on everything I love I will make this car crash if we don't get ice cream. I can feel my face melting off.” You claim not even looking at her too busy trying not to keep sniffling.

“Ok ok we're almost there,” she can't help but laugh. I mean can you blame her, you were excited to do this a few hours ago now you look light you lost a fight.

After finally getting you your ice cream it's like your mood did a complete 180. “Thank you my love,” you say as you kiss her all over her face showing her how much you wanted that ice cream.

“The switch-up is crazy,” Paige says while chuckling at your attitude and holding your waist.

“I can stop.”

“Now I never said that come here mama.”

I'm slowly defrosting y'all (I'm losing my mind.) ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoyed this <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[hom3landr]

So, I have an honest question. Homelander is used to his bday being a huge deal, but what if the person he is interested in doesn't care about their own bday?

Like he has known them for a year, and they never celebrated their own bday nor ever hinted at it. How do you think he'd react?

Birthday Blues

Homelander x Gender Neutral Reader

Homelander hates when you keep secrets from him. But what’s merely a harmless fact to you pokes a sore spot that you never expected.

You hear him before you see him, eyebrow raising at the angry stomp of his footsteps. You’re finishing up the chapter of the book you’re reading and you hope he doesn’t have beef with you because then who knows when you’ll get back to it. You read as fast as you can, words almost blurring as you hastily scan the page. But alas, before you reach the last sentence, your book is cruelly ripped from you.

Homelander stands over your place on the couch, one hand perched on his hip while the other points your book at you as a replacement for his “oh so imposing” finger that he loves to wave at you. His brow is knitted and there’s no doubt that whatever has his feathers ruffled has something to do with you. You lean back and sigh, contemplating how long you should let him ramble before attempting to calm him down. He’s cute when he’s angry. You can live with a lecture when he looks so good doing it. Although you’re hardly feeling charitable at the moment due to him snatching your book like some kind of barbarian.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday?!” He hisses at you, dropping your book with a thump as he places both hands jauntily on his hips. His jaw clenches as he waits for your answer.

You freeze.

Huh?

You don’t know what you expected but it certainly isn’t that. You had expected him to be fussy about you grabbing a drink with Starlight the other night or helping Ashley with some insane task he gave so he could watch her squirm. You missed a call from him earlier, that tends to set him off. You’d even believe he was feeling sensitive about you waking up before him and grabbing a coffee instead of a good morning kiss. Any of those would be easy to assume. But no, he’s apparently worked up that you didn’t tell him your birthday.

You figured Homelander isn’t a fan of birthdays. He certainly seems cynical about his own. He hasn’t told you the whole story but when he grits his teeth at his birthday obligations instead of basking in the cheers of the crowd, you can easily make the assumption that it’s a sore subject. You don’t have any hang ups about your own birthday but it just never seemed like a big deal to you. It’s just a day. Perhaps too many sneak attacks from the singing staff at restaurants traumatized you. Maybe it’s because birthday cake is always too sickly sweet. Or possibly you just don’t feel like celebrating the passage of time. You never tell people and people rarely ask.

Yet, you can tell by the petulant twist of his mouth that he’s not just angry but hurt that you didn’t share it with him.

“I’m…sorry. I just don’t really think about it that much.” You reply with a confused shrug. His mouth twitches and you know he’s not satisfied with that answer. He’s taking this awfully personally and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. It’s just a day.

“Are you trying to fuck with me? So next time we argue you can bring up what a horrible boyfriend I am for ignoring your birthday! You gonna gossip about it over cocktails with fucking Starlight?” He spits out her name like a curse. You want to roll your eyes but you don’t fancy Homelander flying you to the top of a skyscraper and leaving you there like the last time you tried that. You sigh and reach out to take his hand. He jerks it away petulantly for a moment but when you reach for it again he allows your touch.

“That would make me a pretty shitty partner. I’m not trying to play games with you. I’ve just never really had strong feelings about my birthday. That’s all. I promise.” You squeeze his hand and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather of his glove. He pouts.

“I’m not a bad boyfriend.” He huffs. You gently tug his hand and guide him until he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap. It only takes a few strokes of his hair before he deflates like a balloon. He turns to snuggle his face into your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighs into your shirt. You shush him gently.

“You’re my good boy. I know you wouldn’t forget on purpose. You take such good care of me. But why do you care so much about my birthday?” You switch from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back. He’s easily mollified today and it further confirms your suspicions that his feelings were deeply wounded. He desperately needs reassurance when that happens. It’s sweet.

“Did you know that my birthday is fake? Corporate decided on it. I don’t even have one since I was…” He trails off and your heart squeezes painfully. He’s cagey about his past but every so often new details will slip out and it horrifies you every time. You continue to sooth him even as your stomach twists unpleasantly. “But you do have one and you don’t even care! Do you know how fucking spoiled you are?”

You ignore the jab although your hackles rise. Poking his ego now would prove disastrous. So you swallow your pride and continue to let him vent.

“I don’t want you keeping things like that from me. You’re mine and I deserve to know things about you. How can I trust you when you won’t even tell me your fucking birthday.” He huffs and you can feel him stiffen up as he works himself back up into an angry spiral. He nips at your stomach hard enough to bruise and you tug on his hair harshly as a reprimand.

“This isn’t me intentionally keeping some secret from you. I don’t tell anybody.” You pause briefly as an idea hits you. “But…maybe it’s your birthday today too.” You answer and he pulls himself away to fix you with a bemused glare. His brow twitches as he processes what you said

“I mean, if you don’t know the actual day. Then technically every day can be your birthday. It’s like Schrodinger's Cat. Screw corporate, pick your own birthday.” You give his shoulder a little shake and your heart lifts when the corner of his mouth tilts into a little smile.

“It’s my birthday today too then. Now you have to celebrate.” He gives you a smug grin and you ruffle his hair fondly. The hurt still lingers. This is a mere bandage over the leaking wound you know still remains. But if you can ease his burden even a little, you’re happy to do so. Even if it means making a big deal out of your birthday.

“The mighty Homelander sharing the spotlight with a humble human like me? It’s pretty scandalous.” You tease and he turns his head to kiss the sore spot where he bit you. He nuzzles into you one last time before sitting up. He leans in to rub his nose against yours, desperately seeking intimacy in such a vulnerable moment.

“No spotlight,” He whispers. “Just you and me.”

You smile and pull him into a chaste kiss. He whines at the brevity of it and you place another cheeky kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Just you and me.”

He grins and his eyes fill with mischief as he meets your gaze.

“That means it’s time for your birthday spankings” He reaches out to swat you when you bolt with a wild laugh, careening and slipping around his apartment in your socks as he gives chase. You realize as you shriek at his games that maybe birthdays aren’t so bad after all…at least as long as no one sings to you.

[dollfacefantasy]

TELL ME WHEN YOU HEAR MY HEART STOP ♡

pairing: naoya zen'in x fem!reader

summary: today's a very special day for you and naoya, and he plans to celebrate it with a very special gift.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, stockholm syndrome, p in v, fingering, breeding kink, puppy play, misogyny, mentions of spanking, corporal punishment, and psychological torture stuff

a/n: birthday gift for my sweet wonderful friend who i love so very much @nexysworld <3 also!! imagine naoya as a few years older than his canon age for the timeline in this story to work.

“Naoya taking a wife… I never thought I’d see the day.”

The sound of Jinichi’s voice speaking his name drew Naoya’s attention to the two men walking several feet ahead of him on the stone path. His golden eyes flitted from the blue sky above to the pair of them, narrowing as he focused on hearing the next part of the conversation.

“It’s not that shocking,” Ogi replied, “He’s the future head of the clan. There’s no way Naobito would let him fail to produce an heir. Even if the old man had to find some bitch to pay off, the kid was always going to get married.”

“That’s true, but don’t you find it the least bit odd? Seeing him at events with some girl on his arm now? Before, he could never shut up about how the women shouldn’t even be allowed at those things. To be honest with you, I always thought he swung the other way,” Jinichi added.

“Well, yeah. But look at her. If he was ever gonna wed a woman, it was gonna be one like her. Quiet as a mouse. Moves through rooms like a scrap of silk in the wind. Doesn’t go anywhere without him,” Ogi reasoned.

“I don’t think that’s her choice,” the other man quipped.

Ogi shrugged. “Maybe not, but she goes along with it. I only wonder if she’s always been so naturally obedient or if the kid beat it into her.”

Gritting his teeth, Naoya had enough of listening to this. He sped up to catch his relatives. Once within arm’s length, he laid a hand upon Jinichi’s shoulder and pulled him around. His lips curled into a sneer upon making eye contact.

The sudden tug shocked the older Zen’in, his brows raising and lips pausing around the word they had been forming. Ogi followed his direction and came to face the future head of the clan as well. The three of them stood there for a moment. Naoya let them have a few seconds to register that he’d heard their conversation.

“I’ve never thought of either of you as intelligent, but I thought you smarter than thinking it was acceptable to disparage your future clan leader out in the open like this,” he said.

“Our words weren’t intended to be negative, Naoya. We didn’t mean to upset you,” Jinichi started.

“Because you didn’t think I would hear,” he shot back.

From the looks on the two faces in front of him, it was clear the men weren’t afraid of Naoya. That irritated him of course. He wanted all of them to fear him, to feel that if they so much as put him in a bad mood, they would suffer. But the emotion he did see on their features satisfied him enough to prevent that from being a pressing issue.

The gleam in both Jinichi and Ogi’s eyes told him they respected his rank. They may hate him and believe him to be nothing more than Naobito’s spoiled-rotten son, but they accepted the fact that there was nothing they could do about it. And he almost liked that more.

“But really? The implication that I have to lay hands on my betrothed to receive her submission wasn’t meant to be an insult?” he mocked, “The idea that my father would have to pay some woman to be my wife wasn’t said to demean me? I don’t believe that for a second.”

“They were just jokes,” Ogi defended, “How you deal with your woman is your business.”

“Oh, I know it is. How I discipline her is of no concern to you, but do you really think I would have chosen someone so unruly to spend my life with?” he questioned.

“It’s just that you have such high standards-” Jinichi stated.

“I do have high standards. And she meets every single one,” Naoya cut him off, “You two don’t have to explain any further. I’ve already decided to forgive you because I know the root of all of this is jealousy. Ogi, I can tell you wish there was some way you could trade in your wife for mine. Someone young and fresh. Eager and passionate. Not dried up and drained of any personality from more than a decade of dealing with you.

“And Jinichi. Have you ever even been with a girl? I’m sure if my wife took the time to so much as smile at you, she’d have you trailing her like a drooling dog. So please, spare me your judgements about her being ‘quiet’ or shy or whatever you think. There simply isn’t much to say when the company is made up of people like you two,” he finished.

The both of them blinked at Naoya in return, unsure of what to say in response to the scathing words. Arguing would probably cause a blow up that would draw the attention of Naobito, but cowering would inflate the young man’s already super-sized ego. Luckily for them, Naoya continued speaking before they had to make a decision.

“Either way, it’s all water under the bridge. I know you two won’t make this mistake again,” he smiled, “But in case you need the reminder, don’t ever utter the word ‘bitch’ in a discussion about my wife. And if I hear you calling me kid again, you’ll find yourself feeling sorely out of place when I take mine as head of this clan.”

This time Naoya didn’t bother waiting for a potential reply before pushing through them and continuing his walk. The pathway fell into serene silence now that it wasn’t polluted by their annoying chatter. Birds chirped in the trees above while a gentle Spring breeze rustled the hedges on either side of him.

He let out a soft sigh as he turned a corner as his shared suite came into view in the distance. Never did Naoya think he’d see the day where he defended a woman so valiantly. Though that was the crux of why he did it he supposed. You weren’t just some woman. You were his. His bride-to-be, his beloved, his special girl. The only person of the female persuasion he’d let walk one pace behind him instead of three.

God, it was ridiculous. Even thinking of you now made his heart race. He envisioned your sweet, sparkling eyes. Your cute lips that tasted like the richest wine in the world. That luscious body below that gave him wet dreams like he was a horny teenager.

He sighed, longing for you even though he’d be in your presence in a matter of seconds. No matter how often he saw you, it seemed it was never enough. If he could, he’d blow off all his duties around here and stay with you for the entire day.

Opening the miniature gates to his suite, he walked across the paved path to a small wooden staircase. He headed up the three steps and finally reached the doorway that would lead to you.

Upon entering his home, he slipped off his shoes and took a glance in the nearby mirror to make sure his hair was in place. On the thin end table against the wall was a pile of wedding invitations. The sight of them brought a smirk to his lips. Save the date! Mr. and Mrs. Zen’in would like to invite you… scrawled in elegant calligraphy and bordered in gold trim.

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” he called through the house.

He waited a few seconds for the sound of you rushing towards him. That phrase served the same purpose as a whistle to a trained hound. He’d taught you well over the last year. Everyday when he said those words, he could count on you to come to him, to ask about his day, and check on what he needed.

Only today, he didn’t hear the pitter-patter of your footsteps.

His eyebrow raised. In an instant, his body tensed, his lips set into a scowl. He tried telling himself you could be temporarily occupied. Maybe you were taking a bath or had fallen asleep for an afternoon nap. You could just be watching tv or listening to some music that muffled the sound of his voice.

He knew it was probably one of those, but his mind couldn’t help going to the worst place. That you had escaped.

His fist clenched by his sides. He bit the inside of his cheek. Walking further into your shared home, his eyes glanced around to look for any immediate signs of your departure. So far there was nothing. All the furniture was in place, no windows had been left ajar, one of your jackets draped across the back of an armchair.

She knows better now, he thought to himself. Last time you’d tried leaving two months ago, he had hoped it would be the last time. He’d caught you tumbling from the bedroom window while coming home to fetch a paper he’d forgotten. If he found out you’d pulled the vanishing act again today, he’d make the fury he’d felt in that moment seem like minor irritation.

When you tried leaving out the window, the two of you had locked eyes as you clambered off the ground. It would have been kind of cute if he wasn’t so pissed, the way he could see the realization in your eyes that you had majorly fucked up. You tried running, but Naoya was fast. He had you by the back of the neck in seconds, his nails digging into your tender skin.

“My little puppy felt like exploring outside her crate, hm?” he’d asked with barely constrained rage, “You know you’re supposed to ask for permission to do that. You’re not allowed to wander on your own yet.”

Naoya always ended his rules in yet even though he wasn’t sure if he actually planned on ever giving you the freedoms he currently forbade. A small part of him believed that the false hope would inspire your obedience better than direct punishments would. Not that it stopped him from giving you regular punishment though. That day he dragged you back into the house and spanked you till your ass was raw. You wouldn’t have been able to run for a light jog after that. It left you crying for nearly a whole day, so he had hoped it would have been a lasting lesson.

He continued to prowl through the house like a fox hunting its prey. Gliding into the kitchen, he again saw nothing out of the ordinary. You even had the oven on. He wanted that to be enough to put him at ease, but he couldn’t let himself relax. You might have left it on intending to burn the house down.

From there he slipped into the hall. You weren’t in any of the rooms off that walkway, so he headed for the stairs. He moved up them in silence. If you were still here, he didn’t want you to know his exact location. Paranoia had fully taken root. It wasn’t just escape that worried him now. Maybe you had figured out that never worked. You could have graduated to planning an attack. That wouldn’t work either, but he wouldn’t put it past you. For all the times you’d wailed about wanting to kill him, he didn’t believe logic factored into these little rebellions.

God, what if you had found the propofol in his nightstand. He kept it unlabeled, but you’d probably recognize that milky liquid by now. You could have found the syringes in his sock drawer too while doing the laundry.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You could be waiting, tucked behind a corner, ready to jab him in the throat like he’d done to you a year ago. In his defense though, you actually needed it. You were so upset that night, it bordered on hysterical. He’d come over to keep you company because even though he’d only been with you for a year, he’d known you much longer.

You were Toji’s girlfriend.

He’d met you while trying to track him down years before. The day he spotted you, his eyes had been trying to find his older cousin on a crowded city street. Instead they landed on you. Back then, you had a real baby face. Your eyes shined under the rays like they'd never known a cloudy day. The delicate daylight made your skin glow and your features appear softer. He felt drawn to you. It was like fate that you happened to be hanging off Toji’s arm.

Naoya had become friends with both of you. Hanging out with Toji was great because he was Toji. Naoya would have had fun with him if they just sat there and stared at each other. But shocking to everyone including himself, he actually liked you. He acted polite towards you, friendly even. He naturally smiled when you laughed. His eyes watched you during conversation. He took interest in the things you said.

In his mind, he maintained that he still didn’t like the company of women for the most part. But if Toji took an interest in you, there must have been something that made you worthwhile.

He fell in love with you silently. It was a feeling he never planned to act on. He would never betray his cousin like that. Instead, he’d just observe you in awe from a distance. He’d resign himself to only being your friend. Cousin-in-law if it came to that.

But then Toji died.

It left you devastated. Naoya felt hollowed out too, of course. He never thought he’d see Toji die. Part of him didn’t even believe that was possible. But even in comparison to his shock and grief and despair, you took it really hard.

You pulled away from him. Gaps between his visits transformed from days to weeks to months. You never outright told him you didn’t want him around. Your offers to play video games just dried up. You didn’t start conversations anymore, only offering minimal reactions to what he said. Most days you were busy taking extra shifts at work and on weekends you were hanging out with your own friends who Naoya “didn’t know.”

He followed you to a couple of these outings after feeling like he was going crazy experiencing withdrawal from you. Only he didn’t find “friends.” He found you, alone at the bar, getting yourself wasted until some guy would take you home with him and leave you feeling more empty than before.

After that, Naoya decided it was his duty to intervene. He would never have betrayed Toji for you, but now that Toji was gone, he would be what you needed. His cousin would want that, someone to protect you and make you feel loved. Someone to prevent you from destroying yourself in your sadness.

So on the anniversary of Toji’s death, he came to visit you. The two of you talked in short, tension-filled sentences. He could feel the guilt dripping from your every word. It was awkward, and he didn’t try making it any easier. Soon enough, as he expected, you pulled out something to drink to soothe your nerves and make the evening tolerable. And with the liquor came your tears.

It was easy really, corralling you to his chest and rubbing your back, whispering I’ve got you over and over. Then one little prick and you were out cold against him in less than a minute.

You weren’t too happy when you woke up the next afternoon in a place you didn’t recognize. His bedroom was much nicer than your apartment. Luxury furnishings adorned the space while expensive blankets covered your sluggish form. The upgrade in surroundings did little to convince you though.

When he came in to explain to you your new circumstances, you listened quietly at first. He thought for a second that it might all go smoothly, that you would see the value in him taking care of you. But then he got to the part about becoming his wife and bearing the next generation of Zen’ins… and you didn’t seem so on board with all of that.

Now, his heart pounded in his ears as he reached the top of the stairs. 

The first few months of your training had been rough, but he honestly thought he’d made great progress with you. All the fighting and yelling and crying broke you down quite a bit. The period of sleep deprivation helped as well. And of course, you’d done great for that couple weeks he’d kept you on a leash. You’d still have your bratty moments every now and then, but overall, you were doing much better now. You’d come so far and learned your place. Just sometimes, you forgot that he knew what was best for you.

And he wasn’t evil. He could be understanding. Going from your life of reckless independence to being taken care of by someone so responsible would be a big change, especially for such an emotional little thing like you. That’s why he only punished for actual disrespect.

He hoped that wasn’t what this was right now. Today was a special day. He planned to come home with open arms for you, not a raised belt. But like always, he would do what he had to.

Cautiously, he ventured through the second floor of your house back towards the bedroom. Once he was within a few feet of the door, he could hear some rustling. Finally some indication that you were still in the house. He let out a breath, but his muscles stayed taut. You could be trying to slip out the window again, prying off the nails he’d tacked through the sill.

His shaking hand landed on the door, his fingertips giving it a light push to knock it open. He braced himself, ready for the worst possible scenario. His plan wouldn’t change. Your compliance was the only variable in this situation.

He came into the bedroom and scanned around for trouble. You weren’t at the window or rummaging through his nightstand like he’d feared. You weren’t crouched at the foot of the bed, poised for an attack. Rather, he saw the closet doors open. That was where the noise was coming from.

Crossing the room, he peered between the double doors. Now his body could finally relax. He let out a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. Inside, you were there, safe and sound and not trying to escape. You were on your hands and knees, ducking beneath a shelf as if trying to find something. It seemed like you were having some trouble. Soft grunts fell from your lips and your hips wiggled as you tried to reach further. He couldn’t help noticing the way your back arched in this position along with your hips squirming. His pants felt a little tighter while watching you struggle, but he could deal with that in a few minutes. He cleared his throat to get your attention.

“There you are,” he said.

At the sound of his voice, your head shot up, knocking into the shelf above you.

“Ow,” you squeaked before pulling yourself free and sitting up. Your eyes looked up at him, wide and nervous. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He laughed at your little mishap before walking over to you and patting your head. “It’s alright,” he said, running his fingers along your scalp. 

His sweet puppy. Obedient just as he’d hoped. You deserved more credit than he gave you it seemed. He couldn’t let you totally off the hook for not meeting him at the door though. That was how bad habits formed. 

“Though maybe you shouldn’t start cleaning out the closet around the time I’m usually home.”

You nodded without protest before rising to your feet and tucking yourself to his side, your cheek squishing against the crisp fabric of his shirt.

“How was your day?” you asked. Your voice sounded meeker than usual, but he supposed you still feared the possibility of getting in trouble.

He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. “It was fine. Nothing special,” he said with a shrug. He began walking you out of the closet and back into the main part of the bedroom. “What were you looking for in there?”

“Today those people came over to fit me for the wedding dress, and while I had it on, I remembered these shoes I have that would go with it. I was just trying to find them, so I could ask if you liked them,” you answered.

A perfect answer in his book. You were looking for something in regards to the wedding, and not only that, but you planned on asking him for his opinion on it. It made his heart soar.

His fingers coasted up and swept below your chin, making you look up at him. As your jaw tilted upwards, his eyes fell to your neck. More specifically, the tight piece of material wrapped around your neck.

Your collar.

Just looking at it had Naoya’s cock stirring in his pants. He valued that little strap of fabric more than the diamond ring around your finger that cost thousands. His fingertips flicked the dangling silver tag that hung at the front.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, “Are you getting excited for the wedding?”

You shrugged and gave him a small smile. While he would have preferred a resounding Yes, he would take this. It was a vast improvement from the times you’d burst into tears if he so much as uttered the words wedding or bride in your presence.

He planted a kiss on your forehead before sitting on the foot of the bed and pulling you into his lap. You sat up straight on his thigh with your shoulders back. Good. He stressed the importance of not slouching to you. It was unbecoming of someone with your beauty.

Two of his knuckles dragged down the curve of your face while his eyes studied your face for a moment.

“You know… today is a very special day,” he said, connecting his gaze with yours.

They swirled with nervousness, uncertain what kind of special today was. “It is?” you asked.

“Yeah. It is,” he confirmed. His fingers rested below your jaw while his thumb swiped back and forth across your chin. “Today’s our anniversary.”

You blinked at him for a few seconds. “But we’re not married yet…” you said and cocked your head a little.

“I know that, silly girl,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I’m not talking about our wedding anniversary. I’m talking about the anniversary of us. Of me bringing you here. The real start of your life.”

Realization dawned all across your face. “Oh,” was all you said.

“Don’t give me that,” he said with a little pinch to your jaw, “It’s a lot more important than ‘oh.’ That was the day you really became mine. My little puppy.”

He snuck his arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest, rocking back and forth with you for a few moments. The way his body swayed felt like how a child would do it with their favorite doll. His fingers traced up and down your spine.

You shut your eyes and relaxed in the embrace for a few moments. His tender attitude at the moment helped keep your thoughts quiet, which was good since the information he just gave you feelings the exact opposite of his.

While nostalgia warmed Naoya’s chest, a sense of dread permeated your body. You had been here for a whole year. An entire year of your life, wasted away while you played house between the walls of the Zen’in estate. You had honestly given up on escape after the last time when he threatened to upgrade your collar to an electric one, but the idea that you would actually be here forever didn’t feel real until right now.

Something about the one year marker ticking by made the time more than an abstract concept. The same was true of Toji’s death. Some days it felt like he was gone only a week, others you felt like the last time you laid with him was in another life.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you think of him now. It was stupid, but sometimes you worried he’d be disappointed in you for giving in. He fought his way out of this place. Now one of them had you, and you were just taking it lying down.

But you couldn’t fight back anymore. You just couldn’t. This wasn’t so bad. You told yourself that everyday as you lounged around the house or made him dinner. It could be so much worse. It’s not like Naoya kept you in a box under the bed or in some dank basement. He treated you like a wife. Sure he could be… old-fashioned to put it nicely, but you were pretty sure that, in his own twisted way, he really believed he loved you.

And the worst part about this whole thing was you were kind of sure that, in some fucked up way, you felt some sort of attachment to him too.

You’d liked Naoya as a friend before any of this happened. When he was just Toji’s little cousin. You thought he was cute. A little mouthy, but funny and sharp. He was still that way now, and when you behaved he let you see that. That was when nostalgia hits you. When he got you laughing, some part of your brain felt like you were back in the apartment, waiting for Toji to come home from the store.

And when he wasn’t in a bad mood, he could be pretty sweet. Sure the puppy stuff made you want to vomit at first but now it was kinda cute… It was just his special thing for you. That’s what you told yourself. He took care of you, and he could be loving and gentle. He could be a lot worse to you. Some of the other men around here were to their wives.

Those thoughts only brought you turmoil though. You hated yourself for getting used to him. For finding reasons to defend him to yourself. To justify his eternal presence in your life.

As much as you tried to keep it down, a sniffle broke its way out of you. You hoped he didn’t notice. He was being nice right now, and you wanted so badly to keep that going. You didn’t want this to turn into a lesson.

But unfortunately, he heard the soft sound. He narrowed his eyes and grabbed your jaw, forcing your head off his chest. His eyes looked down upon your face now, not in admiration but with inquisition.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, the words coming out with the smallest hint of accusation.

Before you could even think of a cover, you shook your head. There was no way you were gonna risk having to explain your feelings to him. Naoya wasn’t the best with that.

“No…” you replied, “I’m just… I’m so… I’m so happy.”

He continued to stare at you, though his gaze dissolved from displeased to plain confusion. You brought your hand up to hold his wrist.

“I never thought I would be so lucky to have someone like you who takes care of me and looks out for me. I just can’t believe it’s been a whole year. It just makes me think about everything,” you whispered. The low volume helped them seem more authentic. If you had to be emphatic about this, it would probably seem forced.

A gradual smile began forming on his face. “Well no wonder you’re crying. You know you and thinking don’t go well together,” he teased and pulled you back to his body.

He let out a lovesick sigh and rested his cheek against the top of your head. You released a breath too. Without his scrutiny, you could relax. His hand resumed petting up and down your back while he held you.

“My poor puppydoll… you get overwhelmed by all those big feelings in your head so easily,” he cooed, “That’s why you need me. You know I can handle it all for you.”

You nodded on instinct.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, “But I didn’t bring today up for no reason. I wanted to tell you something.”

“What is it?” you asked and wiped at your misty eyes before looking up at him again.

“Well, because today is our anniversary, I thought you deserved a gift. But you’ve been such a good girl lately, so polite and well behaved, doing everything I ask of you. It couldn’t be just anything. It had to be special,” he explained.

You tried to map out where this might be going, but you came up short. He rolled over with you, slotting you beneath him on the mattress. His elbow held him above you while his free hand came up and clicked off your collar. Your eyes widened as he pushed it aside. Today must have really been special to him.

“I was thinking and thinking and thinking, but I couldn’t come up with anything that my puppy would need. You already have so many pretty outfits. So many good pairs of shoes. All the toys you could want. I keep you so well-spoiled… so what would be a good enough present for my sweet little bride?” he asked as he ducked down to your neck, “Can you guess?”

His mouth began laying hot kisses on your throat. You shuddered under his touch. He licked at your pulse point before nipping at the skin. You know he wanted to leave a mark. That was the main reason he bothered kissing your neck at all.

When he didn’t say anything after a few seconds, you realized his question wasn’t rhetorical. He expected you to guess.

“Um… I don’t know. Are we gonna go out somewhere together?” you asked hopefully. It had been a long time since you’d seen the city. Or anywhere that wasn’t this house or the grounds of this estate.

He laughed a little against your skin, peppering the area with another series of pecks. “Good try, but no. I thought of something even better,” he breathed.

You tried to think of another guess, but you honestly had no clue what he intended to use to mark this occasion.

“I don’t know,” you acquiesced.

“That’s ok, baby. I didn’t think you’d get it. It was just cute watching you try,” he teased. 

He nosed at your neck once more before pulling back and looking down at you. His hand rested on your hips, his fingers clasped around the soft flesh there.

“I was thinking that because you’ve been such a good girl for me lately, that you’re ready for me to give you the greatest gift you’ll ever receive,” he whispered, “My heir.”

Every cell in your body froze upon hearing those words. You stared at him, jaw tight and eyes unmoving. How did you not think of that? It was obvious now that he’d said it. You’d known about his desire to eventually get you pregnant since your first day here, but he’d always referred to it as some distant thing. Some event that would occur after the two of you married.

There was only a month until the wedding though, so you supposed he was on track.

“Like a baby?” you whispered back, still wishing somehow that you’d misinterpreted what he meant.

“Well obviously,” he said, “Now’s not the time for joking, puppy. I know you’re ready.”

“I…” you started, but you cut yourself short. You didn’t know how to divert him from that idea without causing a blow up. “I’m scared…” you tried.

“There’s no reason to be. You know I’ll take care of you. The whole time you’re pregnant, you’ll be spoiled even more than you are now,” he said and kissed you, this time on the mouth. His lips moved against your own at a sensual pace before he pulled back. “It’ll feel so good. It’s what this body was made for. To carry Zen’in babies.”

You didn’t know what else you could possibly say, but luckily that wasn’t a worry for long. He went back in for more kisses. His tongue worked your mouth open before slipping in and caressing your own. You moaned softly and brought your hand up to thread through his bleached tresses.

He smirked against your lips. You could feel the smug curve of it rise as he steadied himself above you. His hand kneaded your hips before his fingers hooked over the top of your bottoms and began pulling them down.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “Nao, I don’t know…” you whimpered, but he silenced you by pressing his mouth harder against you.

“There’s nothing for you to know, baby. Nothing you need to worry about. You let me make the decisions remember? Just be a good girl for me,” he mumbled. 

He rolled his hips against your center, forcing your legs to spread wider in the process. You could feel his bulge against the thin cloth of your panties. He did it a couple more times, rocking the hard mound against your clothed cunt. The dull friction felt good, you couldn’t deny that. Your breath hitched and you arched against him slightly.

Despite you starting to reciprocate somewhat, he could still feel the tension in you, and he didn’t like that. Normally it wouldn’t bother him so much, but tonight was different. He wanted you desperate to carry his babies, begging for him to fuck you full of his seed. It was an honor after all. Even if you still had reservations, you would come to see that in time.

His right set of fingers delved between your thighs, lifting the elastic of your panties and cupping your pussy. He slid his middle digit between your folds. In a few seconds, the pad swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. It flicked across your little clit, drawing a whine out of you.

“You don’t understand how badly I need to breed you, precious,” he breathed.

Your legs squirmed, and you bit your lip. You tried to keep your thoughts in line. A few small strokes to your pussy wouldn’t melt you so easily.

But it wasn’t just a few small strokes.

Naoya went back to kissing your neck, working all over from your jaw to your shoulder. His finger played with you until you began leaking arousal. He ground his erection against your thigh and whimpered next to your ear.

You could try to ignore it all you wanted, but you could hear the need in his voice. He sounded like an animal in pain. His other hand gripped you with the force of one as well.

“It’s all I want in this world. To rule this clan with you at my side, full with my child,” he panted, “You’ll look beautiful. Swollen in all the right places. Your body glowing as it does what it was meant to.”

Another moan fell from your mouth as his dreams began to infiltrate your mind as well. And while you were all worked up, you could kind of see the appeal.

“It’ll feel so good for you, fulfilling your purpose. Your body will be so sensitive too. You’ll ache for me, puppy. Your body will crave me like oxygen because it’ll know I own you.”

“Naoya,” you gasped. His finger slid down to your entrance and prodded inside for a moment. He pumped it in and out. It wasn’t enough to make you cum or give you serious pleasure. But it was the perfect amount to steal the thoughts from your head and melt you beneath him.

“Good girl,” he purred, “This is what you need, baby. That silly little brain is trying to hold you back because you’ve been taught that everyone expects more of you. But I don’t. I don’t expect you to work or make decisions or do any of that hard stuff because I know that’s too complicated for my little puppy. It wouldn’t be fair to ask that of you. All I want you to do is relax and let me have control. Just be my good little girl and listen to what I tell you. And what I’m telling you is that you’re meant to be bred. That’s all you need to do, my sweet wife.”

A moment passed where nothing changed. He kept kissing you while you stayed still. But then your hands rose to his chest and started grabbing at his shirt, trying to tug it off. And he knew he had you.

“Silly girl, just a few sweet words and you fall apart so easily for me,” he muttered.

In your mind, your resolve hadn’t completely collapsed. But what he’d said didn’t sound horrible. It was definitely the best case scenario for being here. So why not enjoy your anniversary. You could worry about the consequences tomorrow.

He made quick work of his clothing and your remaining coverings. In no time, he stood nude above him while you laid exposed on the mattress.

Stroking his cock a few times, he climbed on top of you. His golden eyes drooped with lust as they focused on you. You wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to guide him where you needed him most.

“So eager to be full now, are you?” he mocked.

You nodded and looped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down on you. Most of the time, he wasn’t a fan of such clinginess while he was on top of you, but you were behaving better than he expected. He could let it slide just this once. It was your anniversary after all.

He lined up with your hole and nudged the tip against you teasingly.

“Naoya,” you whined, tightening your legs around him.

“This is what I get for spoiling you, huh? A whiny pup,” he murmured and pecked your cheek as he sheathed himself inside you.

Your walls locked around him, squeezing and fluttering at the pleasure that came with the first thrust. His breath came out a little shaky as he adjusted to the feeling of you around him. He shut his eyes for a moment, just feeling the warmth of your tight embrace.

“Your pussy’s begging for it,” he said as he dragged his hips back. He then pushed into you again.

Another long stroke followed the first, and then another after that. He set himself into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips back and forth. You mewled and clutched at his shoulders.

“It just feels so good,” you whimpered.

His grip became stronger on you too. He held you close to his body, ensured you couldn’t run or squirm away from him in the slightest. His pelvis continued to piston against you. The faint sound of skin clapping on skin filled the bedroom along with your combined sounds of ecstasy.

Every time he bottomed out, his silky tip bumped against some sweet spot. You cried out with almost everyone. Your eyes rolled back, blissed out from the continuous stimulation.

“That’s it. Just take it,” he huffed, nestling his face against your neck. You could feel his hot breath steaming against your skin.

Arousal continued to gush from you around his cock. Your slick smeared against your skin and coated the patch of dark hair at the base of his dick.

“Nao… deeper, please,” you whined.

He sighed and obliged your request, slamming into you as hard as he could. Your head board knocked against the wall.

“There you go,” he grunted, “Nice and deep. Gotta get it all the way in so it will take.”

You felt so good that hearing that didn’t even bother you. If anything, it dragged you closer to the edge.

“Gonna- ah! Gonna…” you tried to tell him.

“Just think about it. If I knock you up tonight, you’ll be pregnant during our wedding,” he said. He rolled his hips against you at a slower pace that still reached just as deep. “You’re supposed to wait till the wedding night to try, but no one would know. It’d be our little secret. My gorgeous bride, bred and beautiful just for me.”

Your hips bucked eagerly, out of your control. A pitchy whine left you, audible proof of your desperation.

“That’s it, puppy. Cum for me,” he crooned, “Cum for me so I can pump you full and put a baby in your belly.”

You cried out and locked your limbs around his body. Your muscles all quivered as release crashed into you. It hit you like a bomb going off. Your eyes screwed shut while your jaw clenched. Strangled moans still made their way out though.

He groaned right beside your ear. The pulsing of your cunt only grew more rapid around his length. It massaged him just how he needed to reach the finish line. He kept working himself in and out right until he felt that peak. Then he slid in all the way and let his body go lax on you, trembling with the pleasure of his orgasm.

You held him while his cum spilled inside of you, and afterwards the both of you remained attached. Your hearts pounded against each other where your chests met, rising and falling with labored breaths. His fingers lazily pet your head, trailing down to your shoulder to trace little patterns there.

Eventually, he pulled out and rolled off of you. His hand came to rest on your lower stomach without a word. He held it there for a few moments before rising onto his elbow and giving you a kiss.

“My perfect bride-to-be,” he whispered, the tip of his nose nearly touching yours, “I think whatever you had in the oven has long burnt by now.”

The tone in which he said the words had you thinking for a few seconds they were just some sweet nothings you didn’t understand. But upon taking a deeper breath and smelling the air, you realized he was right. The food you’d put in the oven before he’d come home was probably burnt to a crisp at this point.

“Sorry,” you said, instantly sitting up to go and correct your mistake.

But with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he ushered you back down against the mattress.

“I’ll have the servants bring us something better and clean it up,” he said and nuzzled your cheek, “What do I always say? I’ll take care of you. Even your little mistakes.”

You nodded and relaxed again. Your eyes drifted down to your stomach, the location of your possible future greatest mistake. Despite everything that had just transpired, you hoped it wouldn’t take.

“Oh I almost forgot,” he said, breaking you from your thoughts. His hand came up to your throat, your collar between his fingers. He grinned as he fastened it back into place. “There we go. It would be wrong of me to leave my pup without her collar.”

He flicked the dangling tag once more before laying beside you again.

[maudeeloise]

Do you think you could do a Jacaerys x reader where they are childhood enemies but get betrothed and when things are going well in their marriage Jace misinterprets a moment with reader and someone else and accuses the reader to be pregnant with a bastard until it’s born looking exactly like him and he must reconcile and win reader back.

Sworn Enemies || j.v

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warning : none

You weren’t surprised. When your mother mentioned it and your sister ran into your room to check on you a few moments after your talked with your mother.

You were a noble and you had known since the very first that you would be bethrothed with another noble. Unfortunately, your family was being too close to the Targaryens that the first person they chose for you to marry was the last person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

The marriage was rocky and was filled with arguments — even about the smallest things. Your marriage was built by loath instead of love. You couldn’t stand his arrogance and he couldn’t stand your stubborness. Your hatred towards each other was so deep in your blood that it became the reason you ended up with his child.

Just like any other night, there you stood in different sides of your shared chambers. The bed seperating you as you had argued since the past hour.

“Don’t you dare lie to me!” Jace’s voice roared, filling the room with his anger.

“How dare you accuse me of something I didn’t do?!” You matched his tone, firm and loud.

“I am not accusing you of anything!” His jaw clenched slightly. “That baby is a bastard and you know I’m right.”

You bit back your tongue once you processed his words. He called your son a bastard. He called his own son a bastard.

“You are insane.” You spat through gritted teeth. “You have no proof on what you believe in, however I do and you’re too terrified that I might be right.”

“Nonsense!” He shook his head. “I’m not terrified of anything because I know I’m right.”

“Then take a look at your own son!” You pointed at the crib which was placed beside your side of the bed. “You have refused to even take a peak of him since he was born. Do you despise him that much?”

“He is not my son!” His voice boomed through the room.

A sudden cry broke from the baby, stealing both your attentions. You rushed towards the crib and took the baby gently before rocking him in your arms. Whispers of sweet nothings followed by a humming of the first song which came to your mind, eventually died down the cries. It only took a while before the baby went back to his slumber.

Disgust written on Jace’s face as he watched the two of you. “We need to get rid of him as soon as possible.”

Your face fell in surprise at his suggestion. There was a long moment of a pause before you moved to place the baby back on his crib. A long sigh left your lips in disbelief.

You were tired of convincing him. If you had to be honest, it hurt you every time. You wouldn’t care if he was mocking you nor he was treating you as if you had betrayed his family, but it was his son he was hating. His own flesh and blood he planned to banish.

“Are you really that insisting?” Your voice broke. Your heart aching. But you forced yourself to keep a fierce look on your face and your posture straight.

Jace let out a scoff. “You were the one who betrayed this marriage.”

“I would never!” Your voice heightened, but it wasn’t anger. You were exhausted. “I may despise you with every inch of my body, but I would never do such. I love my family and I would do anything to keep our names clean, so don’t you ever start a rumor just because you got tired of me.”

“Got tired of you?” Jace taunted. “I had wished for your death since forever, but I have never started such rumours.”

“Then whoever did!” Your chest moved up and down. Your eyes were filled with desperation, silently pleading for him to believe you. “You may hate me for the rest of your life, but that is your son, Jacaerys! Just for this once, I am asking you to second your beliefs.”

“He is not my son!”

“Take a look for yourself!”

That was the last thing you said before you exit the room. It was starting to become too much for you. Your chest hurt from holding back tears. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, or else he would’ve thought he won the argument.

Once you found yourself in the middle of the empty hallway, you broke down. A hand covering your mouth to silent the cries as you fell down to your knees.

On the other side of the door, stood a hesitant Jacaerys. If he had to be honest, a part of him wanted to believe you, but he had to big of an ego and a habit of always wanting to be better than you, so he was persistance of his opinion.

His eyes stared at the crib for a long minute. He was arguing with his mind whether he should just leave the room or do as you ask. His hands were fisting the material of his coat.

“Fuck this.” He said before walking up towards the crib.

His angry expression was soon replaced by a soft one once his eyes caught a glimpse of the baby. His mouth fell open slightly. The baby was a carbon copy of him — brunette hair, brown eyes, his nose, his lips. Shame masked his face the longer he looked at the baby.

He stumbled back in surprise. His hands were holding at the crib to steady himself. Guilt rushed through him like a wave of tsunami. You weren’t lying. The baby was his heir, his firstborn, his own flesh and blood.