#we worked there for months and he kept it even after he was no longer in training lmao

[ganja-hq]

My bf and I met while working at kfc, we started talking bc they misspelled "trainee" on his name tag and I wouldn't stop making fun of him for it

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Months

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: You've known and loved Din for Fifteen Months. Here's a glimpse into your life with him. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex , oral (m and f receiving), fingering, voyeurism, fucking on camera, cum eating, lap dance, sex work, din carries you, duck pond emotions, a spray painted mandalorian helmet, goats!, farm life. Words: 8,700

Fifteen Masterlist Masterlist

—-

“Morning,” a rumbly voice says against your forehead with a kiss. “We have two new kids.”

Your eyes open wide, your heart leaping with excitement as you jump out of bed quickly. Din hastily backs away with a grin on his face.

“She had them?!” you ask as you pull on a pair of pants and grab your robe.

“She did. She’s doing good,” he says, smiling at your excitement. “The babies are healthy and happy, already nursing and everything.”

You run down the steps, Grogu at your feet. Boba’s waiting at the front door, standing guard, his tail wagging in greeting when he sees you.

Din leans over and kisses you as you throw your jacket on and step into your boots.

“Oh, good morning, by the way,” you chuckle as you throw the door open and feel the early morning chill of spring in the air.

You wrap your jacket tighter around you, your boots squishing in the dewy grass as you follow Din to the little shelter on the side of the main goat pin.

Dorothy looks up at the sound of the gate creaking. Your favorite goat looks peaceful as her two new babies are cuddled close to her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo, softly stepping towards her before kneeling down to pet her head. “Look at your babies. They’re perfect.”

“Were you up all night with her?” you turn and ask Din.

“Just about,” he yawns.

“You could have come and got me,” you say, rising and dusting the straw off your knees.

“I wanted you to get some sleep,” he replies, his eyes heavy with fatigue but a little brightness, too. “Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”

Din steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.

“They’re so perfect,” you muse, watching the little kids stand on wobbly legs and find their footing in the new world.

“They are,” he admires, tightening his hold. “Cobb’s on his way. He’s going to take care of everything since I was up all night.” 

—-

As the weeks turned to months together, the long-distance from Din almost became unbearable, it kept getting harder and harder to leave Din and his farm every time you’d visit him.

So, you sold the townhouse you had worked hard to pay for on your own and moved across the country to live with Din. The idea of being separated any longer had become too much to bear, so you left behind all that was familiar to be with him.

That was five months ago. Dorothy, your favorite goat, started showing signs of her pregnancy only a couple of weeks after you moved in.

Wicket the rooster's crow is now your alarm clock, waking you up every morning in Din's arms, his handsome face only inches away. It’s hard to pull yourself away from his warm arms and soft lips, but the farm chores are waiting for both of you.

Together, you tend to the herd, milking the nannies and bottle-feeding the playful kids who frolic in the pasture. Din's gentle patience for you and all of his animals never fails to fill your heart with love.

During the afternoons, while Din takes care of the farm repairs and building projects, you tend to the garden–your hands buried in the rich soil as you plant and nurture fruits and vegetables that will eventually grace your table.

Evenings are spent in cozy domesticity with Din and your dogs, curling up next to him on the porch swing to watch the sunset paint the sky as Din’s fingers caress your skin.

At night, after all the chores are done, you still do your webcam shows, but no longer for private customers–a decision you made on your own once you left Din’s home the first time.

Din always helps you set up the equipment and watches off-camera, his heated gaze watching your every move.

You’ve embraced Din, his farm, and his life—much like he embraced you and your choice of career. You could never imagine your life without him. This life, with its simplicity and authenticity, is everything you never knew you needed, a blissful escape from the hectic pace and superficial trappings of your old life.

And you couldn't be more grateful for it all.

—-

“Din,” you whisper in his ear and leave a kiss against his cheek. “Cobb just left. It’s almost time for my show.”

Big brown eyes blink open, a smile lights his tired face.

“Hey,” he yawns. “Can’t believe I slept that long.” His hand reaches out and grabs your hip, pulling you into bed with him. His stubble scrapes against your skin as he rolls you onto your back and kisses you. His hands run along your body, slipping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. You melt into his touch, fingers tangling in his messy curls, and you sigh against his lips.

He trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on your skin. You can’t resist him, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. His broad body covers you like a warm blanket.

His hand slides lower, hooking into the waistband of your pants. Just as he starts to tug them down, you very reluctantly break the kiss.

“Hold up,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath. “Ugh, the show…”

He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I knooow,” he grumbles.

You laugh softly, soothingly running your fingers through his hair. “Want to help me tonight?”

He lifts his head, an eager and mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do.”

“You want to pick what I wear?”

Without a word, he rolls off you and strides over to the dresser, rifling through your collection of lingerie. After a moment of deliberation with his eyes studying two different bodysuits, he puts them away and grabs the same blush pink lingerie you wore the first night he and you slept together.

“Really?” you arch up an eyebrow. “That one?”

“Call me sentimental,” he smirks. Tossing you the soft, silk outfit. “Put it on pretty girl.”

“Sentimental, huh?” You grin as you shed your clothes, Din’s eyes darkening as he follows your every move.

The silk slides over your skin as you remember the first night you stayed with Din - the nerves, his declaration of love, the tenderness of his touch, and the realization that he meant everything to you.

You smooth your hands over the fabric, straightening the straps and admiring how it fits.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

You heat under his intense gaze. “Come on, we need to set up,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to your studio.

—-

You’ve noticed a change in Din since you moved in with him. He’s no longer the solitary man—quiet, reserved, and focused solely on his work. As your love blossomed and you grew closer, he began smiling more readily and laughing more freely, his eyes always sparkling at the sight of you.

He used to be guarded—even a bit gruff—but soon, you saw beneath that exterior, sensing a tender heart. Now, you see that tender heart every day. The way he gently cradles a newborn kid in his strong hands. The way he kneels down on the floor to pet and hug his dogs every morning. The way he always makes your tea the exact way you like it every evening.

He’s actually playful, sometimes chasing you across the house before capturing you and ‘attacking you’ with his mouth, or dipping you for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen.

Sometimes he’ll surprise you while you’re outside hanging laundry, sneaking up and wrapping his arms around your waist before gently tackling you onto the grass. His strong arms enveloping you as he pins you beneath him, his eyes twinkling with love.

“Caught you,” he rumbles before pressing his lips to yours.

You love seeing him like this, happy and carefree. He was once your customer in a dark box, just a curious stranger, and now he’s everything to you.

—-

You check the lighting and adjust the camera tripod while Din settles into his usual spot just out of frame, putting on a pair of headphones, close enough to be heard but not seen.

You take your familiar position on the bed, knees bent to your side, with one hand supporting your weight as you lean back. As you pout your lips and adjust the strap on your top, you nod at Din, signaling that you're good to start.

“Ready?” he asks, his finger hovering over the button to start the stream.

Taking a deep breath, you slip into your online persona. “Ready.”

The red light blinks on and you smile at the camera. “Hi everyone, thanks for joining me tonight…”

As you interact with your audience, you can feel Din’s eyes on you. You steal glances at him between poses, noticing how his breathing quickens whenever you arch your back or run your hands along your thighs.

“What should I do next?” Your question is directed at your viewers and yet you know Din can tell you’re asking him.

He grins, lifting his hand into view, his finger curling in a beckoning motion.

“Yeah? You want me closer?” you purr. The chat explodes with messages of excitement.

You lean forward and crawl slowly towards the camera, risking a glance at Din, sitting in his chair shrouded in darkness, his brown eyes turning almost black when you wink at him.

Your hands trail sensually over the silk fabric of your tank top. “What should I take off first?” you ask temptingly.

“The top,” Din’s voice rumbles from off-camera. “Slowly.”

A shiver flows through your body at Din’s voice, this is the first time he’s ever spoken while you’re performing. You reach for the buttons on your shirt, teasingly undoing them one by one. The silk falling open to reveal your bare skin underneath.

The chat goes wild.

“Like this?” you ask, shrugging the garment off your shoulders and letting it fall to the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growls. You can see him palming himself through his sweatpants out of the corner of your eye.

You bite your lip, fighting every urge inside you to look directly at Din. The camera and your customers demand your attention, but you can only feel his eyes on you.

“What next?” you ask breathily.

Din’s voice husks through the air. “Touch yourself,” he commands in a low tone. “Slowly.”

Your hands slide down your body, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach before dipping lower. The silk of your shorts feels smooth against your hand as you tease and rub yourself through the fabric.

“Feels so good, when your hands are all over me,” you moan into the camera. “Feel how wet you make me? I’m so fucking soaked for you baby.”

Din grunts from the darkness as you arch your back and press your breasts together.

“Should I take these off?” you ask, pushing down the waistband of your shorts.

The chat dings with responses, but you wait for Din’s command.

“Yes,” breathes out from his lips.

You slide the shorts down inch by inch and toss them playfully towards Din’s direction before spreading your legs wide, your hand slipping between them, stroking yourself slowly. You moan as you work your fingers in small circles, your hips rocking against your hand.

You hear Din’s breathing grow heavier.

“Mm, it feels so good,” you purr. “But chat… do you think I should have some help?”

He leans forward, his brows rising in surprise. You’ve never asked Din to join in your cam sessions before, but seeing him in the background, watching you every time has become too much. You want him to be a part of it now.

Your audience sends a wave of thumbs ups and enthusiastic messages.

“Baby,” you say breathlessly, “come here.”

He hesitates for a moment before standing up and moving to the side of the bed, just out of frame. His brown eyes are wide with surprise and desire as he reaches his hand out towards you. The chat goes wild as his hand comes into view on camera, trailing up your leg.

His touch is warm and reverent as his fingertips finally brush against your wet folds. “That’s it, touch me,” you moan, relishing in the feel of Din as your customers watch.

His fingers explore you slowly, spreading your wetness and tracing lazy, soft circles around your clit. You lock eyes with him as he slips a finger inside you, momentarily forgetting about the hundreds of viewers on the monitor.

Din nods his head towards the screen, reminding you that you’re at work. You look back at the camera, as Din slowly fucks you with his thick finger.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” you pant for your viewers, losing yourself in Din’s touch. His thumb finds your clit, brushing softly against it. “Just like that.”

He smirks as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your back arching as you push your breasts together and tug at your nipples.

“More,” you gasp between moans, your body beginning to tremble as the chat goes crazy watching you lose yourself under Din’s touch.

He responds immediately, adding another finger and stretching you. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

Your hips lift to meet his hand, seeking more pressure, grinding your pussy against his palm. "Talk to me baby, they want to hear you talk to me,” you beg.

His brows furrow in thought, his thumb brushing circles against your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper. “Let it go baby. You’re gorgeous, you like my fingers?”

“Yes, god yes,” you moan as his hand worships your cunt.

“Cum for me baby, show them how I can make you cum.”

“Oh god,” you cry out, your head falling back onto the mattress as you surrender to his touch, breathing hard as your hips cant against him. “I want you,” you beg, leaving the thoughts of your hundreds of viewers behind.

“I’ll give you what you want soon enough,” he promises. “Keep going for them.”

The pressure is building within you, your heart racing and when Din angles his fingers up, that familiar heat pools in your core, every nerve ending dancing and tingling across you.

“Gonna—” you whimper.

“Just a little longer,” he urges, his voice low. “I want them to see how much I love making you feel this way.”

You nod, breathless, your body set alight. You can hear the distant sound of notifications and gifts pinging from the chat, but all you can focus on is Din and his thick fingers.

"I'm so close," you gasp as his thumb presses firmly against your clit. He quickens his pace, fingers moving faster and deeper until your body can't take it anymore.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Cum. Cum for them.”

Din pilots you closer to your peak. Your thighs quaking around his hand, your cunt clenching his fingers as your body begins its ascent towards bliss.

“Oh god,” you moan.

“Cum for me baby,” he growls. “Let go.”

The world explodes around you, stars floating through your eyes as your entire body convulses. Your breath hitching, the world narrowing to just you and Din as you orgasm, gone are your viewers, gone are the dings from the speakers.

“That’s it baby,” he coos. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.”

Your body trembles in the aftershocks as he brings his soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you. Only you can see how his eyes close in pleasure as he licks his fingers clean.

“You did so good for me—and them,” he praises, his own breathing ragged as he pulls down his sweatpants.

"Thanks for tuning in chat, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get fucked by my helper,” you say winking before clicking the DISCONNECT button.

Din pounces on you, pinning you to the bed with his muscular body. "Be careful!" you yell. “The equipment!”

Din grins widely as he kisses you. “Don’t worry about the equipment, I’ll set it back up later,” he growls against your lips. “Right now, I’m going to take care of you.”

With one smooth motion, he flips you over onto your stomach. You gasp in surprise as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you up onto your hands and knees.

He kneels behind you, his hardness pressing against the cleft of your ass. You moan and push back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He chuckles at your eagerness and gives your ass a playful smack that makes you yelp.

“Guess you liked helping me?” you breathily ask.

“I did,” he runs his hand down your spine. “You want my help again?”

“Always,” you breathe, arching your back to present yourself to him.

He groans at the sight of your glistening pussy, swollen with desire for only him. He leans down, placing a tender kiss at the base of your spine. “Look at you, all ready for me, pretty girl.”

His strong thighs brush against yours as he lines himself up with your aching cunt. The broad head of his cock teases your folds as he coats himself in your slick. You moan and push your hips back as you try to take him in.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as your pussy accepts him into your tight heat inch by inch.

He sheathes himself fully inside you, filling and completing you. A low groan rumbles from DIn’s chest as he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. “You feel incredible,” he rasps, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“I’m yours."

“Yeah? You’re mine? This tight, wet pussy is all for me?” He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzles into your neck. His stubble scrapes across the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he hisses possessively. “My beautiful girl.”

He fucks into you faster and harder, the bed you use to touch yourself for your customers now creaking and thudding against the wall from Din’s power. You fist your hands in the sheets, holding on as Din pounds into you. You feel another orgasm in your orbit, the stars beginning to show behind your eyes.

“I’m close,” you whimper. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” Din pants. “I’ll never stop loving you, taking care of you, making you feel this good…”

His words makes your orgasm rocket through you, your pussy clenching rhythmically around Din’s cock as you see a galaxy across your eyelids.

Din keeps thrusting, grunting with exertion as he fucks your soaked cunt, chasing his own release.

“Fill me with your cum,” you urge breathlessly.

“Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna—” his hips stutter and with a deep thrust, he buries himself inside you. A warrior’s moan tears from his throat as his cock pulses, painting your walls with his cum.

Your arms give out, and you collapse onto the bed, Din follows you, lying down next to you. The two of you lay together, panting for air, a tangle of sweaty and sated limbs. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his heaving chest. You nuzzle into his neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw.

"That was amazing," you murmur. "Having you with me on camera like that. God, it was so hot."

"Mm, it was," he agrees, his voice a low rumble.

"Maybe we should make it a regular thing. I'm sure my viewers would love it."

“As long as I don’t have to show my face, I’d love nothing more. I love watching you, but being able to touch you in front of your audience. I can’t believe I used to be one of your customers.”

You chuckle softly, snuggling closer against him. "And now look at us. I know way more about goats than I ever thought possible and you know way more about live streaming sex shows than you ever thought possible.”

He laughs and tilts his head down to leave a kiss against your forehead. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This farm feels like a real home now, with you here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

—-

As the warm, late spring weather rolls in, your days on the farm become even busier. The goat kids are growing bigger and braver, exploring more of their surroundings each day. Your nights are spent performing shows for your many viewers, the addition of Din’s hands and voice have driven you watcher views up. You both notice more gifts and chat messages from female viewers, it empowers the two of you to put on even more of a show for them. With a bit of ingenuity and a can of silver spray paint, you’ve come up with the perfect solution for him to not show his face.

Din sits in his office, going over invoices and the calendar as you saunter in wearing one of your favorite dresses.

"Din," you catch his attention.

He turns in his chair, an adoring smile lighting slowly spreads across his lips. "Yeah baby?"

“I thought of a solution for you to not show your face,” you say with a small smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, giving you a curious look before he obeys and shuts his eyes.

You quickly open the closet and pull out the surprise, placing it in his hands.

“Okay, open now.”

He opens his eyes to find a silver helmet in his hands.

“So, that one dude you like from that space movie? I ordered one of his helmets…”

He admires it, turning it in his hand.

“The bounty hunter “ he muses quietly. "My favorite."

“I was worried about copyright soooo I painted it silver instead. But this way… you can be on camera with me without anyone seeing your face.”

His dark brown eyes look up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. 

“Put it on Din.”

His handsome face is slowly covered by the silver helmet.

“It even modulates your voice a bit…”

Din sits clad in his black sweat pants and black t shirt now with the silver helmet atop his head, making him look even larger and more intimidating. His shoulders sit higher, giving off an aura of power and dominance.

“How’s it feel?” you ask, staring at your bounty hunter disguised boyfriend.

“Good, just fine” his voice comes out different from the speaker. A little more tinny, crinkling with feedback—just like how you first heard him through your computer speakers. You’re ridiculously turned on by it. 

“You look… good," you admire. “Really good baby.”

His posture shifts as he leans back, resembling a king with the helmet on… like it was made for him.

"Then, come show me how good I look, pretty girl."

You saunter over and kneel down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees slowly sliding them up his strong thighs as you look up at the expressionless helmet. Your heart races, imagining his eyes watching you behind the visor.

“Is this what you want?” you ask, fingertips grazing the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You know exactly what I want,” Din’s modulated voice responds, sending goosebumps across your skin.

You lean forward, nuzzling your face and placing a kiss against the softness of his inner thigh. Your hands move to the waistband of his pants. “May I?,” you ask, tugging gently. He lifts his hips, helping you slide them down.

His cock springs free. Your hands wrap around the base before you give it a firm stroke as you look up at the helmet.

“I love how you look in this,” you muse, before leaning into give the tip of it a kiss. “My bounty hunter.”

The sound of Din’s breath hitching is distorted through the helmet’s speaker. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue.

You hum around his cock at his praise, taking him deeper into your mouth. You know exactly how he looks under the helmet now. No longer your black square mystery. You can picture his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip captured in his teeth, the middle of his eyebrows creased in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts. The modulator gives his voice an extra edge, an extra growl.

Your tongue swirls around his sensitive head already leaking for you, imparting the bitter, salty taste of him against your lips.

“Look at me,” he softly commands.

Your gaze lifts to meet the dark visor of the helmet, imagining the deep brown eyes behind it.

“That’s my pretty girl,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, his hips softly thrusting into your mouth.

“So good,” his voice crackles through the speaker. “Always so good to me.”

You take him deeper, choking on the length of him as you relax your throat. His breathing grows heavier, punctuated by grunts of pleasure and your name.

“Hold on, hold on,” Din says suddenly, gently pulling you off him. “Come here baby.”

He helps you rise to your feet, before pulling you onto his lap, your chest meets his. His strong arms wrap around you.

You straddle his lap, the heft of his hard cock presses against you through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roam across your body, caressing you with reverence and adoration. The cool metal of his helmet brushes against your cheek as he leans in close to you.

“I want to feel you,” Din’s modulated voice rumbles through you.

You nod, lifting your hips as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down in a swift motion and tossing them aside.

A gasp leaves your lips as you sink down on him. You begin to move on him, rolling your hips in steady waves. Your hands grab his broad shoulders, relishing in the warmth of his body.

His voice comes low and husky through the helmet. “Take what you want pretty girl.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “So big inside me. Just perfect baby.”

Din’s hips thrust up to meet you, his cock hitting deeper inside you.

“Din,” you moan, resting your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet. The rapid beat of his heart thuds against your hands when you place them on his chest. Pulling back, you look into the helmet, unable to see his face, but knowing the exact intense look of concentration he always has when he’s close.

He slides his hand between your bodies, and finds your clit, swirling it in sweet circles against it. A gasp escapes your lips and you smile at the pleasure coursing through you. Your hips instinctively buck against his hand, craving more of him. The pressure builds as his thick cock and skilled finger make you move more frantic. Your hands move up his neck to grip the base of his helmet.

“I…want to kiss you,” you whimper as you lift the helmet, exposing his handsome face.

The sweat across his dewy skin makes it glow even more golden. His plush lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Leaning in to kiss him, the helmet slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a thud.

God, you’ve missed seeing him. Your fingers tangle into the soft, dark curls of his hair as you lean forward. “I love you,” you breathe out against his chin, kissing your way down to his neck, licking the slight salt of his sweat and tasting him.

Din's thumb increases its pressure on your clit as he thrusts up harder into you. "I love you, so much," he pants, his voice rumbling against you with desire and adoration.

Your core tightens, the familiar tingle that only Din can give you washes over your body. You trail your tongue up to his mouth and kiss him hungrily.

"Din," you gasp, breaking the kiss as your orgasm lights through your body. Shuddering in his arms, clenching around his thick cock. You lean back, letting him fuck into your slickness as your muscles grow loose.

With a guttural groan, he thrusts his hips against you, his movements stuttering as he follows you over the edge. His thick cock pulsing inside of your walls as he cums. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he buries his face in the crook of it.

For a moment, you both stay still, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and trying to catching your breath. Din's hand runs soothingly up and down your back as you come down from your high.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, voice thick with reverence and awe. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I'm the lucky one," you whisper back, reaching up to cup his jaw. "You've given me everything I never knew I needed.”

“Maybe I should wear the helmet—for your next show?” he asks, his eyebrow tilting up.

“I think you should,” you smile, guiding his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I’ll let the fans know to expect something different.”

—-

As the weeks pass, you notice Din spending more evenings out in the old barn on the edge of the property. He always kisses you sweetly before heading out, promising he won't be long. But the hours stretch on, and on some nights, he’s out there long past bedtime.

Curiosity gnaws at you, but you respect his wishes to let his trips to the barn remain a mystery.

One night, as you’re sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and splitting corn bread with Grogu, Din returns through the back door with Boba happily trotting behind him.

“Welcome home,” you wink, standing to pour him a cup of tea.

“Mm,” he hums happily.

“Am I ever going to find out what you’re doing out there?”

“You’ll see soon enough, pretty girl,” he assures with a dimple deepening grin.

He steps behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour him a cup. He nuzzles into your neck peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“Be careful,” you order, “the tea is hot.”

“Mm,” he tugs on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “I no longer want the tea.”

He grabs your ass, lifting you up into his hold. Your surprised yelp echoes through the room as you quickly wrap your legs around his waist for support.

“Din! What are you doing?” you giggle breathlessly.

He strides to the kitchen island, carrying you in his arms like a prized bounty and places you atop the cool butcher block.

“I want a taste of you,” he grins roguishly. His large hands skim up your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“Oh god,” you roll your eyes. “You’re ridic—”

Your breath hitches as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs.

“No panties, huh? Were you waiting for me, pretty girl?” he asks, his finger tracing lightly along your bare skin, finding you already wet for him.

“Always,” you breathe.

He sinks to his knees before you, spreading your thighs wide and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs as he nuzzles closer to your core. The cool wood and his warm touch sends a shiver through your body.

You gasp at the first touch of his tongue against your sensitive clit. He works his way around it with slow, deliberate licks and kisses, gently sucking and pulsing his tongue.

You moan loudly, tangling your fingers into his dark hair. He hums with appreciation against your skin as you pull the soft waves, urging him on. He laps at your arousal, drinking down the wetness you spill for him.

You press yourself harder against his eager mouth, he devours you, his thick tongue delving in and out of your eager cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Oh my god.”

Your muscles begin to tense, your thighs begin to quake. Din’s tongue works tirelessly again your cunt.

“Close,” you gasp, your hips rolling against his face.

He groans as his tongue journeys up to your clit before flicking it rapidly against you. Two of his fingers slide into you, the stretch of them and the slow drag in which he pulls them in and out of you transports your orgasm higher. The familiar galaxy of stars Din always brings you twinkle behind your eyelids as you pulse against his fingers and tongue.

You fall apart atop the cool wood, with Din’s hot mouth against you working you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop you give him.

Your fingers comb through his soft hair, massaging his scalp with affection as he places soft kisses along your thighs.

“My tea’s probably cold by now.” he says, rising from between your legs and giving you a kiss. “Guess we should just take this to bed, huh?”

You chuckle breathlessly. “It’ll be a hell of a lot softer on my back than the countertop I can vegetables on.”

A wide smile spreads across his face as he lifts you up into his arms and carries you upstairs.

—-

“Ready for this?” You ask, holding the helmet out to him.

“I am,” he nods.

“I love you.”

He leans in, giving you a kiss before raising the helmet up to his head. “I love you too.”

Din sits on the chair, clad in his new helmet and his black sweatpants, his muscular, golden chest on full display for you, and soon, your viewers.

You hit the link to your show’s room. Your mouth drops at the amount of viewers waiting.

“Holy shit,” you gasp. “We have over 2,000 viewers.”

A rumbling hmph leaves the helmet.

“It’s just you and me,” you remind him.

“Hit connect baby,” he says, sitting up straighter and folding his arms across his chest.

You do as he says and hit connect. Hiding your nervousness and shock behind a sultry smile.

“Hi everyone,” you purr. “I see a lot of new faces here tonight. I guess word got around about my new costar.”

You sway your hips slowly and teasingly, the messages of your viewers illuminating the contours of your body as you let the anticipation build. Din watches intently, his helmeted head tilted slightly.

“Tonight,” you say, before glancing back to Din, “you’re going to watch me fuck my boyfriend.”

The chat explodes, gifts and tips fill the sidebar. Turns out, there is a market for this.

You turn away, stepping closer to Din, each movement slow and sensual as you dance across the room. You can see his breath hitch behind the visor as he takes in every inch of your body and each roll of your hips.

His face is totally concealed by his helmet, and yet you feel his eyes stalking you as you dance for him and your viewers.

Bending over, you plant your hands atop his thick thighs, gripping them and staring into the visor as you give him a wink and mouth “I love you.” His body tenses as he keeps his arms folded across his chest.

You turn your back to him, giving him a full view of your ass barely covered in the silver fabric of the thong he picked out specifically for tonight. You begin to move in rhythm with the music softly playing in the background, gliding your hands along the soft skin of your thighs. You turn slightly to look over your shoulder at him as your hands travel up to your silver bra unclasping it and baring your chest to the camera.

The speaker on the headset amplifies his breathing, reminding you of the first night you talked to him. Deep, steady breaths, sometimes a small grunt, maybe a light whimper.

You dance along to the song, dipping low before popping up with a twist of your hips, your hands charting a path across your skin, pinching and pulling your nipples before dipping down to the shiny straps of your thong. The snap of the fabric against your hip stings when you give it a playful tug then let it go.

"I’m soaked for you,” you moan, running your hand across the wet seam of your thong.

Turning to face him, your lips curl into a teasing smirk at the sight of him. The silver helmet may conceal his face, but his body's response to your dance is evident. His chest rises and falls in sync with his deep breaths, his arms now uncrossed and resting on his thighs as his hands grip tightly.

Slowly, you slink over to him and straddle his lap., reveling in the power you holder over him with your movements. Your hands land on his broad shoulders as you grind against the hardness straining against his black sweatpants.

“You like what you see, baby?” you purr, loud enough for the mic to pick up.

“Always,” his modulated voice rumbles.

You rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his bulge. Soft gasps and moans spill from your lips, your head falling back in pleasure. 

“Do you want me to keep dancing for you?” you ask, swirling your hips.

“Yes,” he hisses.

“No touching,” you kiss the cool metal of his helmet. “Okay?”

The helmet tilts when he nods an affirmative.

Sliding off Din's lap, your fingers run along his chest as you rise. With a sultry smirk, you turn and sway your hips as you walk a few steps away from him. The beat of the music pulses through the room as you begin to dance.

Your hands glide over your body, fingers trailing across your skin as you arch your back and roll your hips.

Slowly, you turn to face him, his helmet is tilted as he watches intently.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his wide shoulders and lean in close. "Eyes on me, bounty hunter,” you whisper, your breath fans across the cool metal of his helmet.

Straddling his lap once more, you begin to grind against him in rhythm with the music. Your hips roll and swivel, creating delicious friction between you. Din's hands clench and unclench at his sides, fighting against the urge to touch you.

“Remember," you purr, "no touching."

A groan crackles through the helmet's speaker. You grin, knowing exactly how much he wants to touch you.

Rolling your body on top of him, your breasts graze against his chest before you lean back, your fingers tracing the curve of your breasts and down your stomach to the waistband of your thong.

Din's breathing grows heavier, the sound crackling through the helmet's speaker.

You rise off of him and turn to face the camera, your fingers hooking into the waistband of your thong, teasing at the thin silver fabric. You lock eyes with the camera as you slowly peel the garment down, revealing your soaked cunt to your viewers.

Facing Din again, you lower yourself to all fours and crawl to him. Your hands gliding up his thighs as you rise, nuzzling your face against the tent of his pants before pressing your body against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him and the tension in his muscles as he fights not to touch you. 

Turning around, you lower yourself onto his lap, your back to his chest. Your ass grinds against his hardness, feeling it strain against his sweatpants.

You’re aching and wet for him, each light whimper from his headset pools even more wetness between your legs.

“Go ahead and touch me baby,” you moan.

Din's hands immediately grasp your hips, pulling you firmly against him. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other dips between your thighs. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, circling it slowly.

“Feel how wet I am for you baby?” you moan.

A muffled groan escapes the helmet's speaker, Din’s fingers exploring your slick.

You roll your hips against his hand seeking more of his touch. 

“You want me to fuck him, chat?”

A splurge of thumbs ups and resounding yeses fill your screen.

You rise off Din's lap and turn to face him, hands gliding down his muscular chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you tug them down, freeing his hard cock, his tip thick and glistening with precum. There’s something about sharing Din’s gorgeous cock with thousands of your viewers. One of the first glimpses you ever got of him was his golden toned cock, and now, here in the home you share, you’re sharing it with the world. 

"Look how hard you make him, chat," you purr, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke. Din's hips twitch at your touch, a hiss of breath crackling through the helmet's speaker. You smile at him, proud of his bravery and enthusiasm for your job.

You straddle his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you take all of him in when you settle on his cock. His hands slide around to grip your ass, as you begin to move on top of him.

The stinging stretch of him inside you feels so familiar, and yet everything is different now. Now, thousands of people are watching you take his cock as he stays concealed behind the shiny, silver mask.

You grin down at Din’s exposed chest under the helmet before leaning down and taking his nipple into your mouth, sucking on it hard. If you can’t kiss his lips, you’ll kiss his body.

Din’s hips jerk forward, his cock hitting deeper against your tightness.

You lick your way up his body and kiss the metal of his helmet. "This isn't fair," you breathe out against it, "you look so fucking hot."

Din growls into the speaker, his voice modulated and deep as his hands slide up your sides possessively.

“Face them, show them how you take my cock.”

You moan loudly, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and sinking back down on him, taking all of his thick cock.

Your back presses against his broad chest, his hands wrapping around to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples.

"Ride me just like that, pretty girl," he rumbles. "Take what you need."

Din’s hands roam over your body, strong and calloused against your soft skin. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and flicking it just the way he knows you love it.

Din growls again, his hips snapping up to meet yours with force. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you as you reach behind him and grip onto his thick thighs for support as you ride him.

You can see the comments flooding in on your screen, filled with praises.

"I'm close baby, so close," you whimper, arching your back against his broad chest. The cool metal of his helmet presses against your shoulder.

"Cum for me," Din commands. The rumble from his speaker transports you right back to the nights you used to spend together, thousands of miles away from each other. Now, you’re here in the home you both share, taking his cock for your audience.

Everything sends you over the edge. You want to shout Din’s name, but you also wish to respect his anonymity... so you decide on a compromise.

“Mando!” you scream as your orgasm bursts through you. His breathing grows more rapid as your walls clench around his thick cock. Your head thuds against the metal of his helmet, your eyes squeezing tight, your lip capturing between your teeth as you you cum for Din—and your audience.

He lets out a groan that crackles through the speakers as he spills himself deep inside you. You collapse back against him, your bodies slick with sweat and chests heaving.

For a moment, you forget about the camera, the viewers, the chat still going wild as you listen to the cadence of Din’s breathing through the helmet’s speakers.

Slowly, still quivering in the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, you rise up from Din's lap. His softening cock slips out of you as you stand on wobbly legs. Turning to face the camera, you give your viewers a sultry smile.

"Look what he did to me," you purr, reaching down to spread yourself open with two fingers. Din's cum begins to drip out of your well-fucked pussy, glistening on your inner thighs. You trail a finger through the slick mess, bringing it to your lips to taste the mixture of you and Din.

The chat explodes with comments and tips, everyone going wild at the sight before them. You can’t look away from the image of Din on the monitor, sitting back in the chair, his broad chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s naked, his cock laying heavily between his legs, glistening with a mixture of your collective orgasms.

"Mmm, he always fills me up so good," you moan appreciatively, scooping up more of the creamy fluid leaking out of you. You slip your fingers into your mouth, making a show of licking them clean and savoring the taste of Din's release.

Behind you, Din stands. You watch in the monitor as he stalks forward.

The chat window is full of flames, hearts, and messages. Encouragement for the two of you flowing in by your viewers. You smile at the camera as Din comes up behind you, pulling you close against his body and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hope you enjoyed everybody! We’ll see you next week.” The silver of Din’s helmet glints in the light when he nods as you shut down the show.

“Holy fuck!” you scream when you see the money from tonight’s show in your account, more than you’ve ever dreamed of earning. You turn around in his hold, lifting the helmet up and giving him a kiss. “Din, the audience loves you.”

—-

The wooden bench with its chipping paint and indentations from years of use overlooking the little pond the ducks gather in is your favorite spot on this earth. Better than the clubhouse in the woods behind your childhood home that you used to call yours as a curious child, better than the sanctuary of a townhome you used to call yours with all of your belongings, better than the bedroom you now share with your boyfriend who you love with all of your heart.

The sun has long gone down, the little lantern hanging on the wooden post swings in the night breeze as the moon sits high and full in the sky. 

A warm jacket is placed around your shoulders. It smells of Din. 

“Hi,” you turn and smile at him.

He gives you a shy smile and joins you on the bench, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. 

You breathe in the familiar smell of him along with the wet dirt and the dew left on the grass. It smells of home. 

He sighs, his fingers against your shoulder tap nervously.

“You alright?” you ask.

He looks at you, deep brown eyes meeting yours and nods with a soft smile.

“I still can’t believe you’re here with me sometimes.” 

“I know, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He hums in agreement. 

“I think we were destined to be together, like it was somehow written in the stars,” he says, his voice deep and introspective as he gazes up at the twinkling stars above. “I used to dream of being in space and looking down on earth, like I never belonged down here. But now, with you, I feel like… I belong.”

You lean your head against his shoulder and look up to the dark sky painted with stars.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you smile, tracing a constellation with your finger. “These can be our stars.”

Din’s hand gently covers yours, his thick fingers lingers on your ring finger.

“I like those,” he says with a nervous breath. “They’re ours now.”

He pulls away, turning to look you in your eyes, a shy smile deepening his dimple. “Would you stay here with me forever as… my wife?”

Your eyes widen in surprise and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathlessly say.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart races as he reaches into his jacket, pulling out a beautiful golden ring with delicate stars etched onto it.

“This is what I’ve been working on in the barn all those nights. I made it myself.”

Tears fall down your face as Din takes your left hand and slides the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as if it was meant to be there all along.

You stare at the golden band, captivated by how beautiful it looks on your finger. This is where you are meant to be, with him.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.

“I love you too,” Din replies. “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all.”

—-

Fifteen Years Later...

Two quiet giggles awaken you from your sleep.

"It's Christmas! Can we go downstairs?" Bo asks excitedly, bouncing on her feet, her face lit with an excited smile. "I think I heard Santa last night!"

“No you didn’t,” Greef responds, rolling his eyes. “The chimney’s on the other side of the house.”

“Greef, ” Din sternly commands as he rises out of bed. “Be nice.”

“Sorry dad,” Greef apologizes.

You smile sleepily at your children's excitement, stretching as you climb out of bed.

“Come on!” Bo yells as she runs out the door.

"Alright, alright, we're coming," you yawn, quickly pulling on your robe and slippers.

Din wraps his arm around your waist as you make your way downstairs, following the pitter-patter of little feet racing ahead of you.

It was around this time ten years ago that Din sat you down and told you about Greef and Bo, the twin foundlings in need of a family. As a former foundling himself, Din couldn't bear the thought of the twins not having a safe and nurturing home. With tears in your eyes and love in your heart, you both made the decision to become the parents of Greef and Bo. The call to Cobb was made, and what used to be your livestream studio, turned into a nursery.

That first Christmas as a family of four, Din had planted Christmas trees on your farm. Now, one of those trees is sitting proudly in the corner of your living room, covered in twinkling lights and handmade ornaments.

"Look! Santa came!" Bo squeals, pointing at the cookie crumbs.

"Can we open presents now? Please?" Greef asks, barely containing his excitement.

“Hold on, let me get the coffee going,” Din chuckles, heading to the kitchen to turn the coffee maker on.

The kids vibrate with wonderment, taking in all of the brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree.

“Okay, have at them,” Din says, settling onto the couch next to you and pulling you close.

The kids don’t hesitate, diving for the presents. Bo chooses a soft, squishy package while Greef grabs a rectangular box, tearing into the wrapping paper.

"A new stuffed animal!" Bo exclaims, hugging a plush bear to her chest. "I'm gonna name her Chewie."

"Awesome, the new flying game I wanted!" Greef grins, examining the box. “Can we play it later, Dad?”

“We can,” Din nods with a warm smile. "I'm a pretty good pilot if I do say so myself."

You spend the next hour watching the kids open gift after gift, their faces lighting up with each reveal. There are new books, art supplies, clothes, and toys scattered across the floor. Fifteen minutes has turned into fifteen years. A black box of mystery has turned into a house full of love.

—-

A/N: Thank you *SO* much for reading. I loved writing Din and his cam girl, and I hope you love the glimpse of their future life together.

[shysuccubusstuff]

Dilf! Sylus pt. 1

Content: Headcanons + some longer parts ♡; Age gap + mention of child abuse (not made by Sylus, of course) + alcohol taking + consensual/dubcon (alcohol intake on both sides).

Summary: After graduating university, you've been looking for a stable job for several months, but for the moment, you just have to content yourself with working as a nanny during the summer holidays. Who would have thought that you would meet such a hot and single (did I already say hot?) dad that would require your services?

Note: I just remembered the fanarts done by someone in Twitter with the boys as dilfs, these fanarts together with some Lana del Rey unreleased songs got me hyped for him... Wish I could see an even older Sylus... he's already hot af tho. I keep saying that I have a bunch of stuff almost ready but I never post it, talk about being like a man (jk depending on how you take the joke). Still, I hope everyone is having a nice week. This video just popped on my tl, hope anyone finds it funny!

Note 2: I'm lowkey scared that some parts are just too corny/cringy... I have no real idea how an older Sylus would speak with some woman that has around... 10? years less than him. Let me know if you want a pt. 2 + the same prompt with other LI!!

You had graduated several months ago, and yeah, of course you knew that finding a job would be the easiest thing in the world, but come on, your area wasn't even THAT full. How was it possible that you were almost the only one that didn't find a job after graduating? You were laying in bed, scrolling through your phone as you kept complaining in your mind. Suddenly, your phone rang, making you almost fall to the floor, quickly taking the call with the hope of getting the job.

"Hello?" You were able to hear some faint sounds in the background, some running around, together with a few giggles.

"... Yes, sorry. I was just busy with something. I call because of your advertisement, the one about working as a nanny?" Suddenly, you heard the deep and velvety voice of a man, even if that voice sounded slightly tired.

"Sure! I'm available for all the week, including weekends. I can even stay at your house if you prefer it that way, I do have to say that the rate does get a bit--"

"That's ok, I don't mind paying as much as you want as long as you do your job appropietly. We can meet this weekend to present them to you, if you are able, of course."

"Yes! Sure, let's meet that day, maybe in the morning?"

"Then that's settled. Thank you, let's meet in a couple days." The man hanged the call, barely allowing you to wave him goodbye. Well, at least that was somewhat solved... right?

The week went fast, with you barely moving around apart from buying groceries or spending your time with some not so interesting game as you complained about your boring holiday with your closest friend. Before you know it, you were already getting ready for that meeting, with your hands starting to sweat a bit as you tried to imagine the kind of children that man could have. Oh God, what if they were the annoying kind? The ones that mess with you cause they hate all their nannies, always acting up and... Wait, just calm yourself, it can't be that bad... right? You grabbed your bag, carrying all the documents that you may or may not need as you kept repeating into your head that there was no way that you would have such bad luck.

You finally entered the café, your hands still sweating a bit as you tried to guess who was the man that had called you. That question was quickly answered, as there was only a single man with not only one, but two children. The two small boys were busy sketching some stuff, with both of them sometimes talking to each other, with the man sometimes answering to them while he took a few sips from the coffee cup. You made your way to the table, clenching your bag as you kept telling yourself to calm down.

"Hi! I'm the nanny, we spoke a few days ago, I don't know if you remember me?" The man's gaze slowly moved from his children drawings to you, his gaze turning much cooler as soon as he stopped looking at them.

"Yes, I do remember you, do you want something to drink while we talk?" You sat down, trying your best not to stumble on your words while you tried to think as fast as possible, your hands lending him the papers that proved that this was not the first time you had worked as a nanny.

"Thank you, I don't want anything, we can just talk like this... I mean, if you want!" The man lifted his brow a bit, perhaps a bit taken aback by your nervous movements, his eyes quickly scanning through the documents.

"That is fine. My name is Sylus. These are my children, Luke and Kieran. Luke is the one on the left, Kieran is the one on the right." The children moved to look at you, both of their faces with several scars that went up their face and arms. The sight made you shiver a bit, but seeing how the two of them were completely calm, you chose to wait in case there was something wrong going on. "They are 8 years old. You will have to work from Monday to Friday, I have to plan the weekends, as it depends on the week. I will make sure to pay you accordingly, of course, you will have bonuses the days that you are asked to stay. I don't require you to teach them nor make any housework, just to take care of them. I would pay you around 25$ the hour, I hope that is enough?" You almost choked on your own spit, trying your best not to act surprised. This was not the first time you had worked for some rich family around town, and yeah, he may be the hottest guy you had ever seen, but you just had to focus on your work. Maybe you could even make it your full time job if you did it correctly?

"There's no problem! I just need to know when should I start working, well, as well as where the house is." As you kept speaking, the two small children got down their chairs, moving closer to you.

"So... when will you start living with us?" Luke rest his face on your leg, with Kieran following him close by. Guess this was their way of greeting you?

Dilf! Sylus who is away most of the day, arriving at late hours at night when both Luke and Kiera are already asleep. He arrives on his motorbike, parking it on the garage, entering the house in complete silence except the sound of the keys being left on the entrance. You had already noticed that this was indeed a routine, as the twins already let you know on the first days you were there. You were barely able to hear him as your room was quite close to the staircase, hearing his soft steps on the carpet as he made his way to his bedroom.

Dilf! Sylus who had no kind of photos or paintings of his (possibly) late wife. The whole house was neatly decorated with mostly dark colours, with the childrens' room being the only exception, as they were the ones that had chosen their own furniture. It took you a few weeks to find out that the two boys had been adopted by Sylus several years ago after they arrived to his door barefoot, with their limbs and faces even more scarred than now. Despite the traumatic experience, the two children seemed mostly fine, even if it was clear that they were extremely anxious the second one of them got separated from the other.

Dilf! Sylus who sometimes arrives in the morning, as always, he leaves the keys on the entrance, rushing to the children's room so he could kiss their forehead, with the two of them hugging him by the neck, allowing him to carry the two of them, each with one arm to the kitchen, where he allowed them to sit as he started making breakfast. These days weren't common, but each time he arrived, you were able to see just how much he cared for Luke and Kieran, with Sylus even spending a few hours playing around with them before leaving to work once more. At first, you tried to avoid interrupting them, choosing to stay silent as you helped him make breakfast or simply tidying up after the twins. That was until the three of them started to open themselves to you, with Luke and Kieran beginning to introduce you on their private chats, even getting to the point in which you were able to see what resembled a smile on Sylus' face. This marked the beginning of the closer relationship between the two.

Dilf! Sylus who begins to have more free time. And despite this would usually mean a reduction on your working hours, this changed nothing, except the small trips with the three of them. The trips started as short outings to the park, sometimes to a restaurant around town. Then, the trips became longer, with the four of you spending a couple days on different countries, as Sylus worked, having to meet with different people while the three of you spending your time by walking around the different cities.

Dilf! Sylus who starts to spend more time alone with you. Inviting you to his private gym in case you had some free time while the twins were sleeping, together with even allowing you to help him test the condition of his motorbike. It had been clear since the start that Sylus was in no way feeble, as you often saw him carrying Luke and Kieran while all of you played together. But it was then, when he was too busy checking every single element of his motorbike, with him simply wearing a tight sleeveless t-shirt, allowing you to see just how much time he spent keeping his body as fit as possible.

"Like what you see?" Sylus' eyes were once again focused on you, his hands slightly tainted by the motor oil, some even staining his face.

"I was just-- Sorry" You felt your face heat up, your eyes starting to move around the garage trying to find anything to focus on.

"No need to excuse yourself, sweetie. I understand, can you help me a bit with this? It seems that I need to check this thoroughly."

Dilf! Sylus who begins to make the work harder for you, with him sometimes rubbing against you as he passed by, making you blush just from remembering the veins on his arms and hands as he worked out. The sexual tension between the two finally came to an end the night the two of you found each other in the living room. Sylus had just arrived, his cloak still being carried under his arm.

"Good night, I didn't expect company so late at night, tell me, would you mind accompanying me for some alcohol?" You bit your lip, still not sure on what to do, before you answered him, Sylus added: "Don't worry, the boys won't be up until maybe around 12, they spent all their energy playing with their friends."

"I suppose it would be ok then, just a bit, ok? I'm not that good with alcohol..." Sylus nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two small glasses, together with a bottle of tequila, salt and a few slices of lemon. He had already changed into more comfortable clothes, with him only wearing some expensive smock that looked perhaps a bit too short for your own safety.

"How about we play some cards while we drink? The one who loses will have to drink." You knew that wasn't the best choice for you, but how could you refuse when he was already smirking as if he had already won?

Before you were able to notice it, the bottle of tequile was almost finished, both of your faces being as red as a tomato.

"Come on! Just accept your defeat already, afraid that someone younger than you is better than you?" You smiled, your left hand moving the liquid inside the small glass while you kept glancing at the cards on your right hand.

"Oh? Someone has gotten bolder now, do you always talk to your bosses like that?" Sylus left his glass on the table, smirking while he left the cards fall on the table, resting his head on his left arm. "Just so you know, I have no kind of insecurity regarding my age, sweetie."

"You sure? I mean, you work out a bit too much for someone--"

"I have no idea why would you assume that, the fact that I work out a lot is merely due to the fact that my job--" Sylus stopped himself, taking a deep breath before going on. "That is just because of some requirements that I have to meet in order to keep my position." You looked a bit confused, not realising until then that you had never wondered why did he always arrive so late. Still, the alcohol was still running down your veins, making it difficult to even realise the possible danger of it.

"Suuuure, let's just say I believe you. Why would an old man like you need to stay as fit? Are you sure that you're not planning on wooing some naïve girl into your claws?" You laughed, taking a small sip out of the glass.

"Maybe I want to do just that." Sylus' gaze darkened, his usual dangerous aura coming back to him as his crimson eyes pierced your face. "Maybe I should do just that, I'm sure I would be able to teach some wild kitten just how she is supposed to behave to be considered a good girl." You felt a shiver being sent through your whole body, the hair on your arms stooding up as your face flushed from the tone Sylus had used in those last few words. Sylus chuckled at your reaction, taking once again his glass from the table and playfully moving the ice cubes within his glass that was now filled with some old whisky he had taken from the cabinet. "I was just messing around, no need to act all coy now, we have been in much more intimate situations, am I wrong, sweetie?" Sylus took a small sip of whisky, changing the way he sat to one that made the cloth rode up allowing you to catch a timid glimpse of his underwear. Feeling as you were being tested on purpose, you quickly rose from the couch, thanking the courage given by the alcohol as you suddenly pressed your lips against his, your body clamping against his bare chest.

What first began as a one sided kiss was soon reciprocated, with Sylus soon taking the lead of it, his rough hands positioning on your hip, his thumbs making small circles around the area as his tongue suddenly entered your mouth, the meek kiss soon turning into a lewd one, the room now filled with wet noises together with soft moans and whimpers.

Just as you were starting to feel slightly light-headed, Sylus got away from you, moving his right hand towards your face and caressing your cheek with extreme care. "Guess I made a mistake. It seems this wild kitten is very much aware of what she is capable to do to me." You bashfuly locked eyes with him, encountering one of the softest looks you had ever seen. "I would have liked it more if this had happened on a better occasion, one in which you had enough courage to do all these bold moves without relying on a silly game." Sylus smiled, his eyes still fixed on you, making you feel even more flushed as you could clearly tell just how much he had been holding back from doing anything inappropriate. "Let me take you to bed, I think we should talk about this... change in our relationship tomorrow, when both of us are fully aware of what all of this means." Sylus lifted you with ease, opening the door with one of his legs and soon arriving to your bedroom, suddenly changing the way he held you so he could acommodate the sheets. Before you could say anything, he covered your body, planting a tendeer kiss on your forehead. "Sleep tight, I hope you won't regret anything tomorrow, sweetie."

[garciaasfluffypen]

stop embarassing me! (she knows everything you're saying)

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 3k warnings: jj and emily find it very hot that you can speak italian, illusions to sexy times at the end request from this ask a/n: everything y/n says that's in italian is translated at the bottom of the post! that being said, everything was written with a translator so please excuse any errors. also, enjoy the lore drop ;)

your italian grandmother was in town, and you were quite literally going to shit your dick.

you had cleaned your apartment top to bottom roughly five times since the news that your grandmother was coming in the off chance she asked to stay at the dingy little place. granted, you hadn’t been there full time in months, but she didn’t know that. while you had a strained relationship with your father, you were very close with your nonna. she had been there for you through all the battles you had to fight against your father as a teenager, including all the battles where he didn’t want you to take care of your siblings simply because of who you were as a person. while he saw your life through facebook, that was the only access he got to you after you turned eighteen. you only kept that line available simply so he could see how your siblings were doing. and that was it. he had created such a big fuss when you came out the month before your 18th birthday that you decided you’d cut him off as much as you could. he tried to alienate you from the rest of your family, for pete’s sake. he didn’t get to know shit about you anymore.

the joke was on him, though, seeing as the rest of your family was cool with the idea of you being queer. granted, you hadn’t dropped the bomb about being polyamorous, but you figured with how well your support system in DC was going, it would be okay. you had told your little brothers about a month prior, and all they wanted to know about emily and jj was if they were treating you right. and obviously, when they could come meet them. your older brother was in the army, so it took a little longer to get a hold of him, but he promised to stop by DC whenever he had leave next so he could meet them. 

but this? this was your grandmother. it was absolutely terrifying to think of losing her. she was one of your only relatives left that could fight for you, and even though she was in her seventies you were worried about losing her. if anything, you were worried that she’d lose you first, but you didn’t want to think about that or else you’d start spiraling. you stayed alive for not only yourself and your siblings, but for her too. and you would probably cry if she said anything that even insinuated that she’d leave you. either way, you figured that you’d introduce her to them before dropping the polyamory bomb. it worked, since hotch said you could give her and your two brothers a tour of quantico this weekend and everyone except for you had been called in for a mandatory paperwork weekend.

you met up with your brothers and nonna outside quantico, slipping into the italian you had shoved into the back of your brain easily. considering it was easier to speak italian with your grandmother since your dad had never really learned it, it was something you just naturally did whenever you were around her. you weren’t sure how the team was going to react to it, but you’d cross that bridge when you got there. you got them all visitors patches and explained all your favorite parts of the building, showing them every little nook and cranny that you loved to hide in when you didn’t want to talk to people except emily and jj. making your way up to the bullpen, you felt a jolt of nervousness flow through your system. you didn’t know how your team was going to react to them at all. they had known bits and pieces about your older brother, but you hadn’t told them about your two younger brothers. that was a can of worms you weren’t sure you wanted to open around them yet. 

“nonna, before we go meet my team, they can be… they can be a little excitable.” 

your nonna shrugged. “nothing i can’t handle. i raised your aunts and uncles.” she paused. “and unfortunately, your father.” 

“you bring up a very good point. and don’t mind anything derek says. he doesn’t really have a filter.” 

“is he the one who likes football?” your youngest brother, colin, looked up to you. 

“yep. i’m sure he’d love to talk to you about it, depending on how far into the paperwork he is. and let me… let me handle the introductions, please. at least the first ones.” 

“of course, sweets.”

jj was one of the first people to realize you had stepped into the bullpen, seeing you walk in from where she was making her third cup of coffee in the kitchen. she was about to come say hi to you, but then she heard it. that beautiful, mid morning husk that you had whenever you woke up late mixed with… was that italian? she had to grab onto the counter to stop her knees from buckling as you talked to who she only could assume was your grandmother, since you had been talking about her all week leading up to today. she wasn’t sure who the two younger boys were with you, but she was sure she’d find out shortly. the keurig beeped, shaking her out of her thoughts as she turned around to grab her coffee, a stirrer going in seconds later. 

she felt a wave of want go through her body, and she had to physically stop herself from going over to you and ravishing you then and there in front of everyone you had spent the past five years working next to. she knew it was hot when emily spoke in other languages, but hearing you speak so fluently and so carefree, with that giant smile on your face? it was one of the hottest things she had ever seen you do. granted, a lot of the things you did were hot, but this? this took the cake. jj took some cool water from the sink and rubbed it on her cheeks, knowing all too well that her cheeks were most likely a crimson red from just thinking about you speaking in another language to her. you didn’t know much about that aspect of jj and emily yet, considering you only been exploring everything for a few months. she knew so much about emily, yet she felt like she didn’t know anything about you sometimes. 

“you done coffee-ing that stirrer?” luke leaned up against the counter, a smirk on his face as he watched jj. “you’ve been stirring for five minutes.” 

“have i?” jj let the stirrer go, watching it go around in the cup. 

“you seem distracted, are you okay?” 

“i… yeah.” 

while luke knew the general aspects of your relationship with her and emily, she didn’t want to delve too much into it while on the clock. he knew there was more she wasn’t saying, but knew not to push too much. but that didn’t stop him from joking around about how hard she was very clearly simping for you in the middle of the office. 

“are you gonna stare and gawk at your girlfriend or are you going to say hi?” 

“i will, i just…”

luke smiled. “i see. go to the bathroom for a sec, i’ll cover you.” 

jj scrunched her face as luke started laughing. “ew. you pervert.” she jokingly punched him in the arm. “it’s just… they speak italian.” 

“okay… doesn't emily speak italian?”

“that’s different. she’s not… she’s not them.” 

meanwhile, you had started to make your rounds, slowly introducing your nonna to your team. she found everyone quite charming, and it relaxed you quite a bit knowing that they all made a good impression. even hotch came out of his office, introducing himself and engaging in the conversations. it was nice, introducing one of the most important people in your life to your found family. the next part, however, was telling your nonna about emily and jj. colin seemed to catch on very quickly when he caught jj staring, but didn’t want to say anything in case your nonna didn’t know, but he would definitely be facetime you tomorrow to talk about it. the longer you talked with your team, the more you realized you were subconsciously searching for jj the whole time. emily was at her desk, but jj was nowhere to be found. which was unlike her, unless she had taken a late lunch. which would also be unlike her. 

“y/n!” penelope’s voice carried through the bullpen as she walked out of the round table room, smiling and bringing you in for a hug the second she got next to you. “i thought you weren’t coming in today? and ms ruthie! it’s so lovely to see you again!” 

you visibly relaxed at her touch, “hotch said i could show my nonna and brothers around today.” 

“it’s lovely to see you again too, penelope. did you dye your hair?”

“i did. just filled my roots in a little bit.” penelope chuckled. “nothing too crazy, don’t worry nonna.” 

emily stood up, a smile on her face as she walked over to introduce herself. “you said she was italian, right?”

“yep!” 

“ciao signora, piacere di conoscerti!” 

“she speaks italian?” your grandmother looked over to you, excitement in her eyes. “che emozione.”

“i do, i lived in italy as a teen.” emily smiled. “prentiss. emily. emily prentiss.” she held her hand out. 

“è una da tenersi stretta, ed è anche carina!” your grandma raised her eyebrows at you. “she speaks italian!” 

you couldn’t help but blush. “nonna! mi metti in imbarazzo.” 

“oh hush, i’m not embarrassing you!”

“considerando che lei sa italiano, lei sa esattamente quello che dici, nonna.”

your other brother, justin, piped in. “y/n has a point, nonna. if her coworker knows italian she’ll understand everything you’re saying. you’re not very slick with that.” 

“oh it’s okay,” emily chuckled. “it’s quite amusing.” 

“let me not be rude,” your grandma turned to the rest of the team. “i’m ruthie. i practically raised y/n since she was a baby.” 

“dang, sweet thing, i didn’t know you came with another language!” derek chuckled. 

“derek the next thing that comes out of your mouth better be appropriate for my seventy six year old italian grandmother to hear.” 

“i was going to ask if your girls knew about that, is all.” 

you rolled your eyes, knowing that not at all what derek was about to say. “no, they don’t, but they’ll be meeting nonna this weekend if everything goes to plan.” 

“who am i meeting?”

“le luci della mia vita, le ragazze che ho frequentato.” you couldn’t help but sheepishly smile as you caught emily’s eye. “one of them is right here, actually.” 

emily wasn’t sure if the blush on her face was any indication of how she was feeling, but good god it was sending her into orbit hearing you talk in italian. over the five years they had known you, the fact you knew italian this whole time was the most surprising. there were bits and pieces that they had been able to get out of you, but you were pretty secretive about your life before joining the bau. penelope knew most, if not all of your story since you two had been friends since high school, but that was all she knew. besides the fact that you turned her on so easily. that was a given. she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she watched you slowly try to explain to your nonna about how you were dating two girls, not just one. the way you took so much care in choosing your words, explaining everything as easily as you could… it was endearing. 

she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, not until jj came to stand next to her, knuckles white as she seemingly held herself back. your face lit up as you saw jj, launching into another tangent to your nonna about how jj had been one of the first people to befriend you when you joined the team. within seconds, the two women started having a silent conversation with just their eyes. they both felt the same way, it seemed, and they were both going a bit feral over this new side of you. although emily did appear to be hiding it a bit better than jj was. emily nudged jj’s knee with her own, shooting her a smirk that could only be read by two people. you and jj. jj bit her lip, having to physically restrain herself once again as you seamlessly switched back into italian, your eyes lighting up as you explained the dynamics of the team to your nonna. 

“so tell me again, who are you partnered with?”

“i go out in the field with either derek or matt.” you pointed to them individually. “matt’s role is unique, he also helps the IRT team so he comes and goes depending on if he’s needed internationally. we like to joke we split custody of him with the international team.” 

“and the tall one?”

“reid? he’s the brains.” reid awkwardly waved from his desk. “he usually knows stuff that we don’t. kind of like how colin knows almost everything about football.”

“oh yes, that makes sense. and what about the lovely ladies?”

“well you know what pen does, tara and jj do a lot of the interviews with families, and i always say that emily’s job is to sit there and look pretty, but she usually goes out in the field and investigates with reid.” 

“you all seem to be a well oiled machine,” ruthie started. “i’m glad you’re looking out for my y/n. they had a tough life growing up, it’s nice to know they’re supported here.” 

“oh they’re a pleasure to work with,” rossi piped up. “a welcome addition to the team for sure.”

as your nonna conversed with the team, you couldn’t help but glance over to jj. you forgot how much she adored it when emily talked in italian, but hadn’t even considered the option of how she would react when she heard you speak italian. to you, emily appeared to be holding in her need for you relatively well. her cheeks were flushed, sure, but she was also in a turtleneck in the office where they blasted the heat the second it got below 60. jj on the other hand… jj looked like she needed a cold shower. you had to hold back a chuckle as you caught tara’s eyes, who also appeared to have clocked her reaction as well. jj’s jaw was slack as she stared at you, eyes filled with lust. while your grandmother was distracted, you took the moment to squeeze her hand lightly to see if she was okay. tara took the opportunity to close jj’s jaw for her, shooting you a small smile as she did so. emily had to hide a chuckle, covering her mouth with a hand as she nudged at the blonde. you locked eyes with jj, your eyebrows raising as she stared back at you, her gaze telling you everything you needed to know. you weren’t going to go all bratty on her here, since you hadn��t talked a whole lot about boundaries outside of the house, but you were tempted. 

“i didn’t know you’d act this way, jayje. i would have done this way earlier if i had known.” you chuckled. “you got a thing for other languages?” 

“only from you and em.” 

you squeezed her hand, resisting the urge to kiss her. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” 

tara, picking up on the mood shift between you two, suddenly stood up. “hey, i was gonna go grab a soda, do either of you want anything?” 

“nah, i’m good. do you want anything?”

“i’m good too, thanks t.” you smiled at tara, waiting for her to leave before turning back to jj and emily. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you guys sooner.” 

“don’t be sorry, lovey, it never came up.” emily shrugged. “i will be using this information to my advantage, though.”

“what, so you can converse in secret in front of me?”

“mostly about christmas gifts, but yes.” you joined in on the joke, a sarcastic hint in your voice. 

“your nonna is very sweet.”

“she is.” you smiled. “i’m sure she’ll love to talk about your time in italy this weekend when you guys come for dinner. she doesn’t know i’m not in the alexandria apartment anymore, i figured this would be the last hurrah before i ended the lease.” you shrugged. “if you guys don’t mind driving out there.”

“of course not, baby.” jj squeezed your hand. “are you coming home tonight, though? or are you staying at the apartment?” 

you stared at jj for a second, your eyes narrowing. you crossed your arms in front of your chest before tapping your shoulder, eyebrows rising as if silently asking her are you in control? jj slightly nodded at you before tilting her head, waiting for your confirmation. you tapped your shoulder again in confirmation, making sure nobody in the vicinity besides emily had decoded your silent conversation. 

“i’ll try. i’m not sure where my nonna is staying, but i’ll let you know.” 

“i want you home by eleven.” jj’s eyes darkened, voice dropping slightly. “no later.” 

before the conversation could take a turn, you felt a light hand on your back. turning to see justin, you smiled. 

“what’s up?”

“nonna wants to know what the plan was, are we heading back to alexandria?”

“i uh… i was hoping to stay here, actually.” you tilted your head towards jj in silent explanation. 

“does she know?”

“well, she understood the fact that emily and i were together, at least.” you chuckled as you caught your nonna talking to luke and tara. “not sure she picked up on jj’s obvious simping.” 

“either way, it is a drive back to alexandra so if we want to go to dinner, we should go now.” 

“you’re right, we should.” you turned back to emily and jj. “i’ll text you guys when i figure out where i’ll be tonight?”

jj narrowed her eyes at you with a devious smile on her face. “11pm, y/n. no later.”

with a chuckle, you stepped away, letting jj’s hand fall back to her side.

“i’ll do my best.” you smirked slightly. “we have dinner plans.”

translations:

nonna- grandmother

ciao signora, piacere di conoscerti- hello ma’am, nice to meet you!

che emozione.- how exciting

è una da tenersi stretta ed è anche carina! - she’s a keeper, she’s pretty too.

mi metti in imbarazzo- you’re embarrassing me

considerando che lei sa italiano, lei sa esattamente quello che dici, nonna.- considering she knows italian, she knows exactly what you're saying, grandma

le luci della mia vita, le ragazze che ho frequentato.- the lights of my life, the girls i've been dating

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[avatar-anna]

i saw this post on and got inspired. enjoy!

part two

"It was nice running into you."

"Yeah, yeah, you too. It was—I'm glad we could catch up."

You held your bag in both of your hands and leaned back on your heels, waiting for the sudden tension to cease. Harry scratched his neck awkwardly while you looked down at the cobbled streets beneath your shoes. When a minute passed and neither of you said anything, when two couples excised themselves to walk past you, you finally decided to break the silence.

"I'm headed this way."

"Me too. We can walk together?"

"O—Okay."

Harry extended his arm out, a clear message for you to go first, so you did. For a split second, his hand grazed your lower back in that protective gesture he always used to use when you walked anywhere. But that had been when you were together, and now you weren't, and even though his hand merely hovered awkwardly behind you, you swore you could still feel it.

"Your hair looks nice. I don't think I've ever seen it so short before," you said, needing to break the silence all over again before it consumed you.

"Thanks, I, uh, I shaved it a few months back. It's finally starting to grow in."

It must've been soon after your break up, you realized, quickly doing the math in your head. A change, a fresh start after the end of a long relationship. You understood that, knew neither of you needed to comment on it, or the fact that you no longer wore the necklace Harry bought you for your first anniversary, though you'd seen him glance down at the missing piece of jewelry multiple times since you ran into each other.

"It's cute," you said, resisting the intrusive urge to reach up and touch his hair, instead clasping your hands behind your back.

"Are you across the bridge?" Harry asked, gesturing to one of the many bridges that stretched across the Tiber.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Harry shrugged, the canvas bag on his shoulder slipping a fraction. "You always liked Trastevere."

You smiled, charmed by how Harry still seemed to know you so intrinsically. "And you? Are you staying in Prati?"

Harry shook his head before waving to a fan who had spotted him. He didn't stop, though, and kept walking beside you, asking about your family, specifically your grandmother, who was his Scrabble partner nearly the entirety of your relationship.

"Good. I play Scrabble with her on the weekends now. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm not a good enough opponent, but she'll never say it to my face."

"Graceful as always, your nan," Harry nodded in agreement. "Probably wouldn't say the same thing about chess, though."

"No, probably not. Do you still play?" you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

He was so close, close enough that the sleeve of his green shirt grazed your bare arm. Close enough that if you really wanted it to the back of your hand could graze his. Instead you shifted your hand away.

"When I can," Harry said, his mouth twitching as if recalling a memory. "I've been focusing on writing most days, but I play whenever I'm stuck."

"How's that going?"

"How's work?"

"Sorry, go ahead," you said, blushing a little. Would it always be this awkward around him? You hoped not. Harry had been a friend first, and even though you knew you shouldn't,y you missed his companionship some nights. Lots of nights. Most nights.

"No, you go. Catch me up on all the latest drama at work."

So you did, falling back into familiar, neutral territory as you brought Harry up to speed on your co-workers.

Before long, you'd made it to the apartment you were renting, your palms suddenly warm as you searched your purse for your keys. You were stalling, you both knew it, but Harry didn't comment, nor did he leave, didn't offer any reason to finally say goodbye.

You knew this was where it was supposed to end. That a chance encounter with your ex in a foreign country really shouldn't have gone on this long. You knew that, and yet...

"Do you want to come in?" you asked, scrambling for any logical reason as to why Harry should follow you into your apartment. "I—I, uh, I could make us coffee and—"

"Please. I mean—Sure. That would be...that would be fine."

Relief flooded through you, though that was quickly replaced by a guilty sort of anticipation as you unlocked the door to the main building of the apartment, as Harry followed you up a couple flights of stairs, as he waited once again for you to unlock a door. When you were inside, when you set your things down on the small dining table, you turned to face your ex.

Harry's gaze was once again lowered to your collarbones, to the place where the necklace he gave you used to sit. Then he met your eyes, the expression in them clear. It was the first time you'd seen them since running into him today. He'd kept his sunglasses on the whole time, perhaps to hide his expressions more, because now that you properly met his gaze, you saw it all. Those green eyes you still loved so much betrayed his every thought, and you knew yours probably did as well.

It was hard to say who moved first. If you grabbed the front of Harry's shirt before he wrapped an arm around your waist and fisted your hair in his other hand. But none of it mattered when your mouth met his, when your hands traveled up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs tracing the familiar planes of his face.

A graze of his teeth against your bottom lip had you gasping, had him smiling as if that was the exact reaction he'd been hoping for. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down his scalp, satisfied by the groan that vibrated against your mouth as his tongue caressed yours.

"This isn't—It's not—" you tried to say, losing focus as Harry left a trail of kisses from your jaw to the base of your neck and back up again. "This doesn't mean—"

"I know," Harry breathed, his forehead pressed against yours as he toyed with the bow that held the front of your blouse together. Your breath hitched as his knuckle grazed your exposed stomach. "This doesn't change anything. Now take this off."

You almost made him do it just because he ordered you to, but you knew why he wanted you to be the one to untie the knot of your blouse. It meant you were saying yes to this moment, it meant you were saying yes to doing whatever it was you were about to do.

So you pulled at the blouse until it came undone, leaving it open so it revealed a strip of bare skin going right up the middle of your body. The rest you would leave up to him.

Harry shrugged out of his own sweater and t-shirt before reaching out to push back the shoulders of your shirt until it was off completely, falling into a puddle of fabric at your feet beside his. His gaze alone was too much and not enough, more explicit than it had any right to be. He stood there and drank you in for a full minute as if in a daze, taking in every mark and imperfect like he was reacquainting himself.

It was hard to get the words out, but you managed. "Still broken up?"

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes still roving over every inch of your body that he could see. Then he blinked as if remembering the situation for what it was. "Yeah, still broken up."

There wasn't much left to say after that, really.

[babydollslibrary]

MIDNIGHT RAIN — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

published: February 10th, 2023

summary: in which Quinn asked y/n to marry him when they graduated high school but she breaks the news that she got signed to a record label and is moving to California. 5 years later, they meet again and rekindle their romance.

notes: taylor swift does not exist in this universe… you’ll understand why.

GIF by svechnikovvv

**PAST**

“congratulations graduating class of 2017. you did it!”

i grin, standing and joining the rest of my class and tossing my cap in the air. i’m finally free.

family and friends pile onto the football field that held our graduation and i scan the crowds of newly graduated students, looking for my boyfriend. i finally spot him over with his family, whispering with his brothers. i walk over with a wide smile on my face, and watch as his brother, Luke, nudges him, pointing my way. Quinn looks over and smiles back.

“we did it, Quinny!” i cheer when i arrive at his side. he pulls me in by the waist, dipping me into a kiss.

“we did it, pretty girl.” he whispers when we pull away.

“i have amazing news, bubs!” i can’t wait any longer, i’ve kept my secret for the past two months, not wanting to jinx it. but now that my contract is signed and i’m officially moving next month, it’s finally time that i can share the news; i signed a recording contract. Quinn has always been supportive of my dreams, and when i started posting my songs online, he was the one who predicted that i would get signed to a record label. so i know he’ll be excited when he finds out he was right.

“i can’t wait to hear it, babe. but, i have a question first.” Quinn looks towards his family. his brothers bounce on their feet and his parents are talking with mine, but both sets of parents have their eyes on us. when i see them go quiet and smile, my brows furrow in confusion and i tilt my head. but when i look back at Quinn, i understand why.

my boyfriend of three years, since the summer before sophomore year, is bent down on one knee. my eyes grow wide and i watch as he reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a ring box.

“y/n, these last three years have been the best years of my life. you make me feel like the happiest man in the world when i’m with you.” i tear up. “you’ve been my biggest supporter since the day we met, and i’m so grateful that i get to call you mine. but now, i’d love it if i could call you my wife. will you marry me?”

tears roll down my cheeks and i’m at a loss for words. i can’t say yes. i want to say yes. i want to say yes, so badly. but i’m moving to California next month, and he’ll be staying in Michigan to go play hockey for University of Michigan.

“Quinn. i- i can’t.” his face drops and my heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million little pieces. “i got signed to a record label. i leave for L.A. next month.”

Quinn stands, nodding his head in embarrassment.

“yeah, no, yeah i probably should’ve let you tell me your news first.” he frowns.

“i’m so sorry, Quinny. i- i don’t know what to say. i would say yes, you know if the circumstances were different, i would say yes.” tears still blur my vision, but i can still see him nod.

“yeah, i know.”

**PRESENT**

Quinn and i tried to make it work after that, but our dynamic was off. and i know i bruised his ego a bit too hard for us to make it through. by the time i left for Los Angeles, we were broken up.

now it’s been five years since we broke up, and i still can’t help but think back on our relationship. sure, i’ve gone on dates and had one short-term boyfriend in the past few years, but no one has measured up to Quinn. he was my soulmate and the one who got away. lately, it seems like all i can do is write songs about him and our relationship, and my fans have definitely taken a notice. even now, i’m in my studio, recording a new song and it’s about him.

“he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain. he wanted a bride, i was making my own name. chasing that fame. he stayed the same. all of me changed like midnight.”

i finish off the intro and i can hear my producers voice through the speaker in the recording booth.

“that was great, y/n. i think that was the last take that we needed for that one. let’s move onto the first verse.” she says. i nod and hear the beat pick up again.

“my town was a wasteland. full of cages, full of fences. pageant queens and big pretenders. but for some, it was paradise. my boy was a montage. a slow-motion, love potion. jumping off things in the ocean. i broke his heart ‘cause he was nice. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain.”

tears gather in my eyes, pushing to fall, and i attempt to blink them away, but all the blinking does is make them spill over, rolling down my cheeks. the door to the recording booth opens and my producer, Ashley, steps through.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks sweetly, rubbing a hand on my back as i wipe away my tears.

“yeah, it’s just still really hard.” i let out a weak laugh at how pathetic i am. crying over a guy i dated five years ago. “god, i’m so stupid.”

“you’re not stupid, y/n. you made the decision that you thought was best for you at the time. looking back, would you have made the same decision?” in addition to being my producer, Ashley is also my best friend. we’ve actually been friends since eighth grade, and when she graduated college a year ago with her bachelor’s degree in music production, i hired her.

“i- i don’t know. i mean, i love where i ended up, career wise. but i miss him so much, Ash.” i reply. my tears have started to ease, but now i’m stuffed up from crying and can’t record at the moment, so i hang up my headphones on the microphone.

“then, maybe you’re a little stupid.” she jokes. i shake my head, letting out another weak laugh.

“i know what will cheer you up.” she sing-songs. “i have tickets to the Ducks game tonight. let’s go cheer for some hot hockey guys. maybe we’ll even get to embarrass Trevor.”

i smile and nod in agreement. Trevor is another close friend of mine. he’s actually the best friend of Quinn’s brother, Jack. i never met him when he lived in Michigan for USNTDP, but the hockey world is small, so i was only a little surprised when i met him last year at an Anaheim Ducks event and found out he knew the Hughes family.

“okay. let’s go embarrass Trevor.” i tell Ashley. she cheers and we leave the studio, heading back to our apartment to get ready.

**

Ashley and i arrived to the Honda Center about fifteen minutes before warmups started, finding our glass seats and settling in. when the Ducks skate onto the ice and we see Trevor, we jump up and cheer.

“WOOO! GO TREVY!” i scream as he hits the puck in the net for a practice shot, catching his attention. he looks over and laughs, skating over to the glass and banging in front of my face. i laugh and joke- “fancy seeing you here!”

“you guys can try and embarrass me all you want. i’m a shameless man. i’m fueled on your shouts and cheers.” he says, a wide grin on his face.

“who you chirping at tonight?” i ask. Ashley never actually told me who they’re playing against. it’s at that moment that the opposing team skates onto the ice, and i’m frozen in place when i see the Canucks.

“your ex.” Trevor wags his eyebrows before skating off to finish his warmups.

“what the hell, Ashley?” i’m angry, you can tell as much by my voice, and i know she knows why.

“it’s just watching a game, y/n/n. you still love him, it’s not like you don’t watch his games on tv.” she replies, shrugging her shoulders.

“that’s different. he can’t tell i’m watching through the tv. what if he sees me?” i spot him on the ice, talking to one of his team members, and immediately turn to face Ashley, hoping he won’t recognize me. i don’t want him to think i’m pathetic and still in love with him. it’s the truth, but it’s embarrassing enough without him knowing. i’m sure he’s moved on by now.

i’m able to make it through warmups without him noticing me, but i’m not so lucky when the game actually starts. it’s only halfway through the first period when Quinn scores the first goal of the game, and before i can think twice, i’m up on my feet clapping and celebrating.

“WOOO!” i yell, and Ashley laughs at me, teasing me about how i’ll always be an internal WAG. but i let her comments roll of my back and continue to cheer, watching as he stops not far from the glass in front of us, getting hugged by his teammates. “GO QUINNY!”

it’s then that he turns, eyes wide, and i realize i’ve made a grave mistake. my voice plus the nickname has tipped him off. he spots me, and i freeze, my hands mid-clap. i let my hands fall to my sides, and Ashley pulls me back down to my seat by the back of my jacket. Quinn’s gaze stays focused on me, and i give a small wave in return. he raises his hand back at me, and i can tell he’s still shocked to see me but one of his teammates pulls his attention back to the game.

throughout the rest of the game, Quinn continues to glance over towards me, and i regret letting Ash rope me into attending this game. it ends with 4-2, Canucks winning, and i feel bad for Trevor, but i can’t help feeling proud of Quinn. Ashley and i stay in our seats, talking after the teams leave the ice, and i get a text from a number i never thought i would hear from again.

—

From: Huggy Bear 🧸🤍

meet me outside the visitors dressing room please. i think we should talk.

—

the text makes me nervous. is he mad that i was here? did i upset him by being here? by cheering for him? i show the text to Ash and she says she’ll grab an uber home so that she doesn’t impose on our conversation.

i find my way to the visitors dressing room, giving my name to the security to find that Quinn had already informed them i would be coming. i stand in the hallway waiting, looking over every time the dressing room door opens. i sign a few autographs and take some pictures with a few of the players for their girlfriends or sisters while i wait.

it feels like the entire team has left when Quinn finally comes out. i watch him as he steps out, dressed back in his arrival suit.

he looks so good, it’s unfair.

“hey.” he says, walking over to me. “you were at the game.”

“i was.” i tell him, my voice cracking with my emotion. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you by coming. i didn’t even-”

“you didn’t upset me.” he cuts me off. i study his face, trying to gauge how he feels. i used to be able to read him easily, and it seems like that talent hasn’t left me. “i was surprised to see you. i’ve never seen you at any of my other games, i kinda just assumed you didn’t care now that we’re… not together.”

“i watch all your games, Quinny.” my voice is barely above a whisper. soft and anxiety ridden.

“you do?” he questions, his voice full of hope.

“yeah. well, every one i can. i’ve even missed events just to stay home and watch. i never stopped caring about you, Q. just because we aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean i don’t think about you.” i tell him. “a lot.”

“you think about me a lot? you ever write a song about me then?” he teases, but now i’m wondering if he’s ever even listened to any of my songs.

“all of my songs are about you, Quinny.” i confess. “even my new ones.”

“you can’t- you can’t just say that, y/n. i’ll start thinking things that i know aren’t true.” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“like what?” i look at him with doe eyes, the exact ones i know he loved five years ago.

“like that i might still have a chance with you.” he says lowly. i might regret my next words, but i need to get them off my chest.

“can i confess something?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies

“if you asked me again, i would say yes.” i tell him. “if i could go back to that day, i would’ve said yes.”

Quinn’s response comes in the form of his lips against mine. his hands hold my face and i press my body closer to his. my reaction is immediate, my lips moving with his. the kiss is slow and sweet, a reconnection of two lovers. he sucks on my bottom lip before his tongue pushes past my lips, slipping against my own. i pull away before the kiss can get too heated.

“will you go to dinner with me?” he asks.

“i’d love to.”

**3 YEARS LATER**

“Q! your bridezilla wants you!”

“Jack Rowden Hughes, i am not a bridezilla!” i scold. the audacity that this boy holds. calling me a bridezilla on my wedding day.

“leave my wife alone, Jack.” Quinn sighs, walking over from across the reception hall.

“yeah. leave his wife alone, Jack.” i tease. sticking my tongue out at him over Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn looks over at me, catching me pulling my tongue back into my mouth.

“you’re such a child.” he sighs, shaking his head at me.

“what does that make you? you just married me.” i ask him.

“i’m not even gonna dignify that with a response.” he replies. i’m laughing when his mom comes over.

“is everything okay, honey? i heard you and Jack arguing.” she says.

“i think everyone in here heard them arguing.” Quinn sighs again.

“hey, at least you know she’s part of the family.” Ellen laughs.

“i’m fine, momma E. Jack was just being annoying. it’s his specialty.” i shrug. Ellen laughs, kissing my cheek before walking away. Quinn takes hold of my hand, pulling me back over to our table, taking a seat and pulling me into his lap.

“what did you want me for, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me steady.

“i just missed you.” i whisper, leaning my forehead against his. he chuckles.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he reminds me.

“i know. but you left me all alone with Jack.” i complain.

“well technically, i left you with Luke. but i feel like i should be apologizing for leaving you with either of them.”

“yes. you should.” i smile.

“how about i apologize to you later? when we get home. i can apologize to you several times.”

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

guilty as sin?

summary: eddie and y/n watch a special movie and get up to things.

word count: 3.9k

warnings/notes: smut, watching p*rn, masturbation (m & f), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, squirting

a/n: this is a blurb that ties in with my gods & monsters series on ao3! as usual, reader is 18+! also this was supposed to include her touching herself a little longer than i originally planned, but this thing took on a life of its own as soon as i started writing it. i hope you enjoy!

————————————-

“are you excited for this, baby?”

y/n was sitting on her parents’ bed, waiting for eddie to get the movie ready. she had never seen it before—something called “porn.” she knew what that was, of course, but she had never seen it. she and eddie had been having sex for a month, and he had suggested it to her one night as they lay together. she was open to it, even if she was a little bit nervous about it. she watched as eddie tinkered with the vcr, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed as she swung them. 

“a little,” she answered, sitting back on her elbows. “is it going to work?”

“yeah, it should,” he said. “this tape sometimes likes to be eaten, which I find ironic, considering..”

she giggled, couldn't help it. “oh yeah? is there a lot of that in it?”

“a fair amount,” he said. “it has your favorite.”

“which one?” she asked. “I have a lot of favorites.”

“eating out after being creampied,” eddie said, hitting play. “i think it’s going to work, baby. let’s lie back and watch it.”

she lay back with him, falling into his arms. she snuggled against him, watching as the movie began with a disclaimer. she looked up at eddie, who was looking down at her with a grin. she leaned up and kissed him, and he returned the kiss feverishly. she whimpered against his lips, biting at his lower lip as he growled into the kiss. she chuckled and kissed him harder, her fingers tangling in the ends of his hair. he drew back after a moment, his grin widening as he stroked her cheek.

“save it,” he said. “i want to see how you act when we start the movie.”

“is it gonna start yet?” she asked. “I didn’t think these kinds of movies had this many credits.”

“yeah, it’s about to start now,” eddie said. “see?”

she started watching the movie, snuggled up against eddie. the movie started off like any normal movie would. a woman answered the door in lingerie, greeting the repairman as he ogled her. y/n rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it, but kept watching. the woman led the man in to where the hot water tank was, showing him the problem and leaving him to fix it. as he was doing so, the woman went into her bedroom, laid back on the bed, and started touching herself as she moaned loudly and in exaggeration. y/n wasn’t fazed yet, but kept watching. eddie was looking at her for a reaction, and she smiled at him as she kissed him again.

“what do you think so far?” he asked.

“i think this is really weird so far,” she said. “people enjoy this?”

he chuckled. “yeah, but it gets better. you should keep watching.”

she did, watching as the man came to find the woman. the woman was still touching herself and moaning, and the man found her and dropped his toolbox. y/n giggled and kept watching, the man walking into the room and watching the woman on the bed. the woman opened her legs wider for invitation and the camera did a close up of her pussy. y/n looked away then, blushing and shy. eddie chuckled, kissing her hair and drawing her tighter against him. she kept watching; it was like a trainwreck she couldn’t look away from. 

“it’s about to get good, baby,” eddie said, squeezing her tighter. “just watch.”

“I hope so,” she said. “i'm bored so far.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you really don’t have much patience, do you?”

“hmm, no,” she said. “is the good stuff about to happen?”

“yep,” he said. “watch.”

she kept watching, and eddie had been right. soon the man was eating her out, messily and noisily over the music. y/n watched, fascinated, as he worked, her eyes big and her mouth hanging open. eddie saw her awestruck expression and laughed, kissing her deeply as she pressed her body against his. she tangled her fingers in his hair, lifting one of her legs over his hip and grinding against him slightly. eddie moaned low in his throat, his hand coming down to squeeze her ass. she whined, pushing herself against him more urgently before he drew back to look down at her. 

“fuck,” he said. “already getting desperate, huh?”

“just because it’s you,” she said. “i’m always desperate for you.”

“so i see,” he teased, poking her nose. “i think it’s adorable.”

“let’s keep watching,” she said. “i wanna see what happens next.”

the man kept eating the woman out, y/n watching as eddie kissed her neck. she giggled, still watching the movie as eddie’s hand came up her shirt. she swatted it at away and he did it again, squeezing her breast and playfully biting at her neck. she let him that time, knowing that it was a losing battle, anyway. she turned to kiss him as the woman’s moans grew louder, and he tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. she gasped, pulling at his hair before she allowed him to take her shirt off. he kissed her breasts over her bra, exploring with his mouth and hands. she mewled, pressing her body against his and tugging at his hair as he, too, moaned. 

“you’re the eager one now,” she said, giggling. “you’re all eager for me.”

“I always am,” he said, smirking. “just like you are for me.”

“I can’t help it with you,” she said. “you’re just so hot.”

“you’re the hottest woman in the world, baby,” he said, tracing her nipple through the fabric of her bra. “can i take your clothes off? i have an idea.”

“what’s your idea?” she asked.

“i want you to touch yourself for me,” he said. “while you watch the movie.”

she blushed. “oh…”

“do you want to?” he asked.

“mmm hmm,” she said. “even though i’m a little nervous.”

“it’s okay,” he said. “i can talk you through it, if you want me to.”

“okay,” she said, standing up to take her clothes off. she laid next to him fully naked, her cheeks hot. “i’m here now.” 

“good girl,” eddie said, smirking as he studied her nude body. “you’re so beautiful.”

her cheeks heated more, and a giggle passed her lips. “you think so?”

“I know so,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between her legs. “be a good girl for me now.”

she started slowly running her fingers through her folds, a whine passing her lips. she watched the movie for a moment, but it wasn’t doing much for her anymore. the man went from eating her out to fucking her, but it seemed so fake that it was almost laughable. she turned her attention from the movie back to eddie, who was watching her with hungry eyes. she giggled and kept going, her fingers massaging as eddie licked his lips. 

“I wish you would touch me, too,” she said.

“I will later,” he said. “for now, I just wanna watch you do it. rub your clit for me.”

she kept going, swirling her fingers through her folds as she felt herself getting more wet. she moaned as she rubbed her clit, looking over at eddie to see what he was doing. he had pulled his cock out and was jerking himself off, his mouth slack as his fist moved slowly over his erection. she looked back at the movie and saw the man still fucking the woman, absolutely drilling her as she moaned exaggeratedly. y/n had to suppress an eye roll; it was so over the top that it was almost laughable. she didn’t want to hurt eddie’s feelings, though, so she kept herself under control. 

“just like that,” he said, groaning as he kept going. “that’s my good fucking girl.”

“it feels so good,” she gasped. “but I want you to touch me now.”

“not yet,” he said. “soon, though, I promise. finger yourself for me.”

she did so, inserting two fingers inside of herself as she moaned. her back arched and she pushed them deeper, down to the last knuckle. eddie watched her, the movie forgotten by both of them as they watched each other work. she moaned as she fucked herself, her fingers working quickly as her thumb swiped at her clit. eddie kept watching her, his gaze never wavering as he stroked his cock. he didn’t speed up, but instead kept a steady pace that was more in tune with her own movements. 

“please,” she begged. “I want you to touch me.”

“oh yeah?” he asked, smirking. “you can’t stand it any longer, can you?”

“no,” she said. “please..”

he took her hand and guided it, pushing her fingers in and out of her pussy as he rubbed her clit. she whined, allowing him to do it as he leaned down to suck on one of her nipples. she moaned, fingering herself deeper as her stomach began to tighten. she grabbed his hair and pulled, arching her back as he moaned against her skin. his free hand kept stroking his cock, his movements getting faster as her orgasm approached. 

“i’m getting so close,” she warned, bucking her hips to meet her own touch. “i want to cum on your tongue.”

“oh?” he asked, smirking. “that’s what you want, huh?”

“yes it is,” she said. “please.”

“well…since you asked so nicely…” he said, withdrawing his hand from her and from himself and kneeling in front of her. “i guess we’ll have to do it then, won’t we?”

“please yes,” she begged. “please, i don’t like begging so much.”

“poor thing,” eddie said, kissing her inner thighs. “you poor thing.”

“don’t tease me,” she said. “you’ve done enough of that already.”

“why not?” he asked, smirking at her. “i think it’s fun to watch you squirm.”

“because i just want you to do it already!” she said with a roll of her eyes. “it’s been too long!”

“okay, okay,” he said, licking a stripe up her pussy and moaning. “fuck, you taste so good. so sweet.”

she mewled, and eddie dove in. he ate her out feverishly, as if he were a man starving. she grabbed hold of his hair, her thighs already quivering as he worked on her. he looked up at her over her mound, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he pushed his tongue inside of her. she moaned, bucking her hips slightly as he smirked against her. she wanted to slap his head for that, but she was too engrossed in what he was doing to give it much more thought. he gripped her thighs tightly, as if he were a man drowning and was clinging to his only salvation, and she welcomed the thought of the bruises it might leave behind. she did love being marked up by him, after all, and he was doing a good job of that tonight.

“your parents would be so pissed if they could see us right now,” eddie said. “especially your dad.”

“fuck him,” she said. “i don’t care what he thinks about us.”

“neither do i,” he said, sucking on her clit for a moment as she gasped. “was that good?”

“mmm hmm,” she hummed, tugging at his hair as he pushed two fingers inside of her. “please keep going.”

“i really need to fuck you soon,” he said, chuckling against her as he sucked on her clit again. “i’m about to burst.”

“come here, then,” she said. “fuck me.”

“yeah?” he asked, smiling at her. his face glistened with her juices, and he didn’t make any effort to wipe it away. “you don’t wanna cum on my tongue first?”

“hmm, okay,” she said. “i am pretty close.”

“okay, baby,” he said, diving back in. “i’ll give you what you want.”

it didn’t take much longer. a few more sucks of her clit and fucking her on his fingers and she was letting go, crying out his name and cumming all over his face. he smiled, sitting back and watching as she experienced her high. when she came down from it, he kissed his way up her body and sucked on each breast before smashing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. she whined, kissing him back and tasting herself on his lips & tongue. he kissed her deeply, lining himself up with her pussy and slapping his dick against it. she giggled, pushing her hips forward in invitation. he sought her consent with a look and she nodded, giving him permission. he slid inside of her with ease and she moaned, clinging to his back as he moaned low in her ear.

“christ, you feel so fucking good,” he breathed. “you’re so goddamn wet.”

“all for you,” she said. “just for you.”

“yeah?” he asked. “just for me, huh? no one else?”

“nope, no one else,” she said. “please fuck me now.”

“how do you want it?” he asked, giving one shallow, slow thrust as he looked down at her. “fast and hard or slow and soft?”

“fast and hard, please,” she said, clinging to his back and looking into his eyes. “i want you to be rough like they’re being in the movie.”

indeed they were. in the movie, the man had taken to fucking the woman from behind as hard and as fast as was humanly possible. y/n didn’t think it WAS possible; he was going almost like a jackhammer. she wondered if they used special effects even in those kind of movies, and found that she didn’t much care one way or another. she was focused on her own pleasure right now, not some imaginary, fake pleasure in the movie. the woman was moaning and yelling on the tv and y/n had to suppress another eye roll at how fake it all sounded. surely she didn’t sound like that, did she?

“eddie,” she said, moaning as he pushed himself even deeper inside of her. “do i sound like that woman?”

“hm?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the tv before shaking his head. “no, baby, you don’t. your moans are so much hotter because yours are actually real.”

“really?” she asked, hooking her legs around his waist and pulling him in as deeply as he could go. “maybe you should start fucking me then so you can hear them.”

“wow,” he said, starting to thrust as he smirked down at her. “i’m impressed, y/n. you went from this good catholic girl to my own personal porn star. when the hell did that happen?”

she giggled, digging her heels into his ass. “it happened as soon as you started fucking me. i was really missing out, but i honestly never wanted to do it with anyone until you came along. the thought of it kinda grossed me out before.”

“oh yeah?” eddie asked, groaning as he began to pick up the pace a little. “all those good catholic boys and steve turned your stomach, huh?”

“well, steve was okay, i guess,” she said. “but the other ones were all gross and i think they were secretly doing it behind their parents’ backs.”

“just like you’re doing now, huh?” he teased, leaning down to kiss her neck. “you’re so funny sometimes.”

“i’m gonna get really funny if you don’t shut up and fuck me,” she said.

“so bossy,” he said, leaving a mark on her neck and laughing. “oops, you might have to wear a scarf for a little bit.”

“i don’t care,” she said. “please.”

“alright,” he said, looking down at her again as he began to move faster.

she gasped as he began to ram directly against her sweet spot, her eyes rolling back for a moment as she clung to him tightly. he moaned in her ear as he thrust deeply, making sure to rail her with every thrust inward. he kissed her sloppily, their tongues meeting before their lips, their moans lost in each other’s mouths as she dug her nails slightly into his back. he groaned at the contact, drawing back to look down at her as his movements increased. she could feel her stomach tightening already, and she opened her mouth to tell him she was close. before she could tell him, though, she was cumming hard, her nails scratching hard down his back as he moaned deep in his throat. she soaked the bed below them, her mouth agape as her head was thrown back. eddie was kissing her neck again, dipping low to get what he could reach of her chest, smiling against her skin as he did so.

“that’s my good girl,” he said. “there she is.”

“don’t stop,” she begged. “please don’t stop.”

“i wasn’t planning on it anytime soon, baby,” he said, kissing her gently on the lips. “i’m gonna make you cum again.”

“are you?” she asked.

“yes i am,” he said. “i’m going to make you scream this time. louder than that woman on tv.”

she had largely forgotten the movie until then, and she looked over his shoulder to see what was happening. it seemed as if it were pretty much over; the man was slowing down and the woman had quieted some. she focused her attention back to eddie, smiling up at him as she pulled him down for another kiss. he kept going, and she whined as he pushed against her sensitive sweet spot, but it still felt so good. she felt dizzy, exhilarated, and as if she were on top of the world. she clenched around him once, twice, and felt him twitch inside of her. that was a bad idea, then; she didn’t want him cumming too soon, after all. she ran her hands down his back to soothe the scratches she left, and was surprised to see that his back was sticky. she drew her hands back and saw a little blood on them, and she looked up at him in alarm. he chuckled, shaking his head as he kissed over her face.

“nah, it’s okay,” he said. “i like it.”

“but doesn’t it hurt?” she asked. “i would think that it would hurt.”

“not really,” he said. “i think it feels good.”

“oh,” she said, her own skin slick with sweat as his, too, became wet. “are you getting close?”

“yep, i’m getting there,” he said, rubbing her clit in fast, hard circles. “how about you?”

“i think so,” she said. “i want you to cum inside of me.”

“you do?” he asked. “usually you don’t want that.”

“i do now,” she said. “please, i don’t care. it’ll be fine.”

“are you sure?” he asked, his hair hanging down as he gazed at her. “i don’t want you to get pregnant.”

“i’m fine right now,” she said. “i promise. i’d tell you to use a condom if i wasn’t.”

“are you going to go get on birth control like you said?” he asked.

“yep,” she said. “i made the appointment for next week.”

“good girl,” he said, moaning as he kept going. “fuck, i don’t know how much longer i can hold off.” 

“me either,” she said, gasping loudly as he rubbed her clit again. “fuck, this feels so good!”

“yeah?” he asked, smirking. “i’m glad you think so, baby.”

“i really do!” she said, clenching around him again. “you’re so big.”

“and you’re so fucking wet,” he said. “the wettest pussy in the whole world and it’s all mine.”

“all yours,” she echoed, her mouth agape as he started absolutely pounding her. “eddie!”

“let go,” he said, rubbing her clit harder and faster. “go on, baby.”

she didn’t need to be told twice. a few minutes later she came hard again, squirting all over eddie and the bed, her eyes rolled back as she screamed his name. she scratched him hard again, more blood being drawn as he growled in her ear. her own orgasm was followed by his own not even a minute later, and he came deep inside of her with a moan of her name. he rocked his hips to a stop, pulling out of her and collapsing next to her on the bed. he reached for his cigarettes, lighting one and offering her a drag. she took it, giggling at the thought of her parents smelling cigarette smoke in their bedroom. she would air it out as best as she could before they got back, but it was still hilarious to her that her dad might blow his top over it. normally that would have bothered her, but not now. the movie had ended, she and eddie were content, and that’s all that mattered to her.

“i love you,” he said, holding her with one arm as he used the other to smoke. “i love you so much.”

“i love you, too,” she said, snuggling up to him and kissing over his tattoos on his chest. “i really love you so much.”

“i’m so glad that you do,” he said, taking a long drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaling the smoke. “you’re everything to me, y/n. everything and so much more.”

“i think you’re the best,” she said. “i couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.”

“and i couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend,” he said, kissing her hair. “i truly mean that.”

she giggled, kissing his tattoos again as she looked up at him. “i kinda wish we could go again.”

he laughed as well, shaking his head as he kissed her sweetly. “give me about an hour and maybe we’ll talk. i could use a shower, though.”

“me too,” she said. “maybe we could take one after you smoke your cigarette.”

“yeah, we should,” he said, trailing his fingers down her back. “y/n?”

“yeah?”

“your dad is going to kill me for this.”

“i’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

“you don’t mind that i’m doing it?”

“no.”

“good.”

they lay in silence for a little bit, until eddie stamped out his cigarette and got up. he held his hand out for her and she took it, walking to her parents’ bathroom and starting the shower. before they stepped in, she was silent, looking down at the floor as eddie looked at her in concern. 

“what is it?” he asked. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “i was just thinking.”

“uh oh, that’s dangerous,” he teased.

she rolled her eyes. “never mind.”

“no, tell me,” he said. “i’m sorry.”

“i was thinking about how i’d like to watch more movies like that,” she said. “i had fun tonight.”

“oh yeah?” eddie asked. “well, i’ve got more. maybe we can watch another one tomorrow.”

“i’d like that,” she said, pulling him toward the shower. “come on, let’s get in.” 

[lewisvinga]

young and beautiful | oscar piastri x fem! reader

summary; due to her pregnancy, y/n wonders if oscar will always love her, if he will love her after she’s had their baby, after she’s no longer young and beautiful

warnings; mentions of pregnancies (duh), body image, insecurities, reader is mentioned as religious at the end but it will make sense 😣

taglist; @namgification

word count; 1.2k

note; think this is the longest written fic i’ve done lol

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

f1 masterlist !

“What should we ask Daddy to bring us, little bee?” Y/n hums, patting her swollen belly as she rummaged through her closet for her silly pajamas.

Oscar was about to leave a meeting and promised to bring her whatever she wanted. It seemed like the bee, their baby, was craving Mexican food. Y/n hums to a tune as she sends a quick message to her husband before grabbing the silky pink pajamas.

She kept her hands on her stomach out of habit. Now that she was nearing 8 months, her stomach had grown significantly. She missed her small bump from the first trimester, but having a huge stomach was inevitable.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh as she takes off the maternity dress she wore for errands. She glances in the mirror and notices the bright red marks on her stomach. She applied many types of creams to try to avoid getting stretch marks but she couldn’t avoid it.

As much as she loved how hard her body was working for her and her baby, she hated seeing those same red marks. Her mind wandered off to how she was going to look after having her baby.

She’s seen plenty of videos on motherhood. A few talked about how different a mother's body will be after childbirth. Many gain weight and many have loose skin that will stay forever unless they get plastic surgery. She’s also heard stories of women whose husbands or boyfriends left them due to how different their bodies looked afterward.

Y/n began to overthink as she stared at herself in the mirror, dressed in nothing but a comfortable pair of bra and underwear. She knew she would no longer have the body she had before becoming pregnant.

Her skin will be all loose. Her stomach will be all flabby. Her chest will become bigger than usual and most likely end up uneven from breastfeeding. She was absolutely terrified that Oscar would no longer love her.

Even if the Australian driver practically praised the ground she walked on, Y/n was terrified of him leaving all because her body wouldn’t look the same. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed and how her eyes were tearing up until she heard his voice.

“Y/n? Love, where are you?”

“I’m changing!” She calls out in a panic, pushing her thoughts to the back of her head as she rushes to put on her silk pajamas. She rushes out of their shared room and down the stairs. Oscar calls her to be careful as she approaches the dining room.

“Osc! We missed you.” She says with a soft smile, wrapping her arms around him as much as she can despite her belly. He kissed the top head in reply and gently patted her stomach.

“Hope you’re hungry because it smells amazing.” He says with a chuckle, taking the boxes of food out from the brown bag. Her craving for Mexican food quickly covered up her insecure thoughts from moments before.

She had forgotten about them until she had just finished doing her skincare routine before going to bed. She had struggled a bit to lean down to wash her face.

Oscar was quick to notice her mood as she walked waddled back into their shared room. She lets out a huff, laying down on her side beside him, and keeps her eyes on the TV playing some random movie.

“Love, are you okay?”

Silence fills the room as Oscar asks the question. Y/n couldn’t help but tear up at his gentle tone. She felt stupid for overthinking that he could ever leave her when he’d do everything for her, even stopping by the grocery store after getting take out because she only liked a specific vanilla ice cream with her churros.

“It’s stupid.” She mumbles, wiping her tears away before he could notice. Unfortunately for her, he immediately noticed. The McLaren driver furrowed up his eyebrows in concern as he shuffled closer to her, gently wiping away her tears.

“It’s not stupid if it makes you cry, my love.”

“It’s just-“ She began, pausing to take a deep breath. “My body looks so different. I appreciate it for growing our little bee but it’s going to look so different. I already have so many stretch marks and after I have our little bee, my stomach is gonna be all flabby and stretched out!” She cries out, turning to look at an even more concerned Oscar.

“Love-“

“And I’ve heard stories of husbands leaving their wives after childbirth and after getting older and having multiple children. I’m not gonna look the same as I did a year ago, Oscar.” Y/n takes a deep shaky breath, letting the tears go, “I’m scared you’re gonna take a look at me with disgust. Will you still love me after? When I’m no longer young and beautiful? I hope you will. I mean, I know you will. But it’s just-“

“Y/n.” Oscar interrupted her, cradling her tear-stained face with her hands. He wiped away the tears from her rosy cheeks as he gently kissed her. “I will always love you. From a year ago during hot summer nights in mid-July, when we were wild, to a year from now when we’re holding our baby in our arms. Y/n, you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I love everything about you, your pretty face and electric soul. Yes, your body will look different but that’s because you’re working so hard to give our little bee the growth she needs. But I will always love you, when we’re young, when we’re old, and when we’re nothing but souls floating around.”

His words made her tear up even more. He lets out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in close. “See this?” He questions, holding up his hand and showing the gold ring on his ring finger. “You’re stuck with me forever whether you like it or not, my love.”

Y/n lets out a shaky laugh, sniffing as she uses her tear-stained silk sleeves to wipe her nose. She looks up at him with nothing but adoration. Her face immediately seemed to light up compared to how she was feeling before. She reached up to gently caress his cheek. He was like her sun. He always knew how to make her shine like diamonds.

“Bee and I are so lucky to have you, Osc.” She whispered as she leaned in, kissing his lips softly. Oscar pulled her in as close as he could, deepening their kiss.

“More like I’m lucky to have you.” He whispers against her lips, “I’d be dead without you.” He adds as they pull away. She lets out a small laugh, lightly hitting his shoulder as they settle in bed.

She wasn’t overthinking anymore due to his reassurance. She lay against his chest as they watched the movie that was playing softly in the background.

Y/n started to get tired when she noticed Oscar became fast asleep. She lets out a yawn and gets comfortable against his side but not before whispering a quick prayer.

Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven, please let me bring my man. When he comes, tell me that you’ll let him in. Father, tell me if you can.

[jayschaconne]

ACHE | Yang Jungwon

summary:. After getting work out the way, all Jungwon needs is for the two of you to relieve stress.

warnings: (minors dni) smut, unprotected sex, swearing, not proofread

a/n: lately been losing my mind over leader won. writing this was a must.

…

Your back hit against the restroom wall, and you let yourself get lost in the way Jungwon’s tongue roamed your mouth, letting him take complete charge of you.

His shirt came off in seconds, as he unbuttoned your blouse as well, unhooking the clasp of your bra and throwing it over to the side as it slid off your breasts.

“Oh, baby I’ve missed you so much,” a whine left him as he kissed down your chest, hands sliding up your skirt. His lips latched onto your tits, sucking and peppering kisses while your hands bunched up in his hair at how much you missed his mouth around you.

“Missed you too,” you let out. You gasped after feeling his cold fingers start rubbing circles on your clit. You could feel his smirk growing on your skin at how you didn’t wear anything underneath.

“That’s my baby,” a whisper was let out in your ear.

His movements had been painfully slow, making you look at him with eyes that had always been too hard for him to turn down.

“Wonnie, baby,” you pleaded. “I need you.”

The way his name rolled off your tongue couldn’t have made him hold back any longer. You unzipped his pants, sliding them all the way down to his ankles.

Your skirt was bunched up around your waist, around which he had a strong hold, picking you up and slowly entering. Desperate, loud moans left the two of you at the much needed relief. Jungwon held your legs wide open, fucking you deep and slow until you got used to how he stretched you out.

It felt incredible. It was like experiencing sex with him for the first time again. He’d been so gentle, so patient. So wild.

His hand kept one of your legs apart with the support of the wall against your back, giving him more access. Thrust after hard thrust, you started to feel dizzy at the sudden pleasure.

Your head hit the wall repeatedly with how relentless he’d been, even in that small space of the restroom, Jungwon had managed to fuck you so good it made your legs shake.

Your voice was unstable from how his speed had been draining your energy, but he still made you crave more of it.

“More,” you screamed out. “You always fuck me so good.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He held you up, letting your legs wrap around his torso. He positioned you so now you bounced up and down his dick, sweaty and exhausted.

The small restroom had been doing very little to keep both of you dry. Jungwon’s hair was damp from the heat, as was yours. Sweat formed on the sides of his face. His abs were drenched in it too, that glistening muscle just adding more to your desire. The room smelled of sex and his cologne that was starting to wear off.

He was hitting spots that overwhelmed you with pleasure, tears welling up in your eyes, mouth hung open at how good it felt.

Pants and moans filled the room, the sound of skin slapping getting louder as he fucked away the tension in you. He got more eager each passing second.

Your throat was dry due to screaming so much. You swallowed, “Jungwon, please don’t stop. I’m so close.”

At this, he quickened his pace, chasing the high you both had been deprived of for so long.

“Yes, I’m gonna come,” he remained focused on the feeling. His eyes shut as he felt his orgasm approach.

Jungwon held up a hand to cover your mouth. You came around him with a loud, stifled scream. He groaned at the feeling of finally getting to come inside you again. His cum dripped out of you as he pulled out.

“You think they heard us?” He asked out of breath, laughing.

You laughed with him, throwing your arms around his neck, “We weren’t so discreet about it, now were we?”

A smile broke out on his face as he kissed you slow and sweet. Diminishing every ache you’d felt from his absence months before.

[infinetlyforgotten]

Home

Oh my gosh, this took way longer than I expected but here we are!

This fic is dedicated to the one and only @ldydeath; thank you for always being so sweet 🥹🩷

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: fluff, allusions to sexual activities

Enjoy!! X

When Jiyong surprised you with a trip to Paris, you were almost brought to tears. The two of you had been incredibly busy for the last two months: Jiyong with his upcoming album release and multiple events and you with your full time job, it was getting increasingly difficult to find the time to spend more time together in person.

However, the both of you agreed that your relationship was worth the battle, and worked around the hardships. Between the non negotiable FaceTime calls at the same time everyday, the check-in texts every few hours and the random memes sent to each other on social media, distance truly only made the your hearts grow fonder. You fell deeper in love when you saw just how determined Jiyong was about making sure he didn’t lose you in the chaos that was his life, especially after spending the last two years together in blissful anonymity.

You were currently getting ready for bed, having traveled to Chicago for work; your boss needed someone she trusted on the business side of a very important international merger about to take place and who better to trust than her most hardworking employee. You were honored, but being thousands of miles away from Jiyong was starting to take its toll. Thankfully, you had a few more days left before you signed the deal on behalf of your company and you could fly back home and right into his arms.

Like clockwork, at exactly 9pm, your phone rang. With a wide smile on your face, you sat up in your hotel bed, immedaitely answering the call. Jiyong’s face appeared a second later, his smile matching yours.

“Jagiya,” he said with a happy sigh, his deep voice like honey, warming you all over.

“Hi baby,” you cooed, your heart feeling like it could burst as your eyes drank him in, absorbing every detail. His mint hair was fluffy, resting on his forehead. You wanted nothing more than to reach through the screen and run your fingers through it. He had his phone propped up on something as he sat, resting his elbows on the table before him. His eyes were shining, his grin adorable as he looked at you lovingly.

“I miss you. How was your day?” he asked, genuinely interested in everything you did. He wanted you to spare no detail, eagerly listening to your typical routine even though nothing changed much day to day. But he didn’t care, always asking and attentively listening when you replied. God, you loved him so much.

“I miss you more, my love. It was good, the usual. No, wait, oh my gosh, I have to tell you the tea about Angela and Marcus,” you gushed, sitting up on your pillows. Ji’s eyes lit up, invested in the tea. You had kept him in the loop with all the office gossip, and he ate it up like it he was watching one of his favorite k-dramas.

“Marcus? The guy with the mullet? Wasn’t she sleeping with Tommy last week?” He asked, reaching over and pulling a plate of what looked like kimbap in front of him. You nodded, your grin mischievous.

“Yeah, but get this: she slept with Marcus Monday night IN THE OFFICE and Tommy walked in on them! I’ve never been more sad to have been working from the hotel when that happened. Marissa and Chrissy both said that they could hear them in the bathroom going at it for, like, 20 mins before Tommy, bless him, stupidly walked into the bathroom.”

Jiyong’s eyes widened, his mouth open and with a kimbap half way to his lips.

“No! Jagiya, no way,” he looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “They were fucking in the bathroom? Nastyyyy” he chuckled to himself, popping the food in his mouth.

“Right??” You gushed, giggling at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. You couldn’t contain your giddiness at how adorable your boyfriend looked, mouth full as he tried to speak.

“Mmf, so, mm wha’did Tommy do when he saw th’m?”

You laughed again at his eagerness for more of the office drama.

“For someone who wrote a whole song about how you want no more drama, you seem really invested in everyone else’s shit, huh babe?” You teased and Ji rolled his eyes, taking your jest light heartedly as he continued to chew, waiting for you to finish.

“Okay, okay, well…he technically didn’t hear them because he was blasting hardcore rock in his AirPods, so he went in, washed his hands, and walked right out, bopping his head. Once he left, like 5 mins later, Angela’s moans could be heard again. ISNT THAT WILD??”

Jiyong’s face was stunned and he leaned closer, eyes squinting in disbelief.

“There’s no fucking way. Don’t lie to me, he seriously can’t be that dumb,” he said, shocked at the ridiculousness of it all. You laughed loudly, nodding excitedly.

“I swear I’m not! Marissa said he went right back to his desk and sat down, texting away. Apparently he and Angela have another date this weekend.” You giggled louder at the exasperated look on your boyfriend’s face. He shook his head, reaching over for more food with his chopsticks.

“Aish, he’s an idiot. I’m so happy for you to come home soon but I’m going to be sad to miss out on all this insanity,” he said before taking a sip of his water.

Home. You noticed that Jiyong has been mentioning that particular word a lot lately. You still had your apartment on the other side of town, even though you spent all your days and nights at Jiyong’s place when he was home. It was sweet. You smiled at the thought of getting to see him soon.

“Enough about my day, how is your morning going? When do you leave for Paris again?” You knew the Chanel fashion show was nearing, and with the timing of it and your work trip, you were hoping to make it back to Seoul by the time he got back from France. The odds were slim but one can dream.

Ji nodded excitedly, mouth full again and chewing rapidly as he tried to speak around his food once more. You had to bite your lip at how fucking adorable he looked, it was actually killing you.

“Mmhm, which r’minds me, check your email,” he mumbled, eyes lighting up mischievously. You instinctively raise an eyebrow before pulling your laptop over from the nightstand. You logged in quickly, checking your email to find one from Air France.

A Business Class Itinerary from Air France, to be specific. Under your name. For this Friday.

Your eyes widen, reading the email in depth.

“Kwon Jiyong, what did you do?”

Your boyfriend smiled at you, with a grin matching that of the Cheshire Cat. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his crossed arms.

“I miss you, jagi. We’ve been apart for way too long and I don’t want to wait a second longer. I knew you were going to fly back home on Friday, so why not just fly to me instead?” He pouted cutely and you crumbled immediately.

“My babyyy,” you said, extending the sound of the last syllable, your cute aggression on the verge of taking over. “You didn’t have to do all that. I could have gotten a flight if you just told me!”

Ji shook his head, waving his hand at you as if swatting that idea away.

“Absolutely not. It’s my job to provide for you, don’t insult me,” he teased. He gave you his happiest gummy smile, and butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. Jiyong looked beyond his phone, as if someone called him to attention. He nodded and looked back down at you, a sad smile on his face.

“I have to go, my love. Get some rest and text me when you wake up, okay? I can’t wait to see you soon,” Jiyong said softly, his deep voice warming your heart once again.

“Good luck filming your music video baby, you’re going to crush it. I love you,” you replied just as softly, phone close to your face as if that made the distance between you any less.

“I love you more, Jagiya. Sweet dreams,” Ji blew a kiss to the screen before giving you a small smile, patiently waiting for you to hang up. He never hung up first. Never.

You blew him a kiss back, finger hovering over the end call button, not wanting to end it but knowing he had to get back to work. With one more wave, you ended the call, hugging your phone to your chest. You let out a sigh, the smile still very prominent on your face before burying your face in your hands, giggling and kicking your feet in bed.

It dawned on you that You were going to Paris to meet up with Jiyong in a few days, after not seeing him for a few weeks. You went to bed, dreaming of nothing but his beautiful face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The 8 hour flight felt like a breeze compared to any flight to and from South Korea, so when you landed in Paris at 10am, you were energized. Perhaps it was the espresso from the business class breakfast menu or perhaps it was the thought of being in Jiyong’s arms after so long; either way, you were bright eyed and bushy tailed when you stepped out of the airport.

The crisp Parisian air nipped at your cheeks as you walked straight to the driver who had a sign up with your name. You smiled at him, thanking him for assisting you with your luggage. Once inside the Escalade, you texted Ji to let him know you arrived.

You: Landed safely! Can’t wait to seeeeee youuuuu! 😘

Jiyong responded almost immediately.

My Baby: YOU’RE HERE!!!!!

My Baby: 💕🥳🎉❤️❤️😘😘🤯🤯

My Baby: The driver knows to take you to the hotel, I should be done with this fitting by the time you get there.

My Baby: I’ll head straight to you.

My Baby: I love you!

You chuckled to yourself, replying back with a single heart.

Traffic was surprisingly sparse and you made it to the hotel in about half the time it would have normally taken. You walked into the hotel lobby, giving the front desk the name Jiyong had instructed you to use before being handed the key card. You all but ran to the elevator, excited to head to your suite for the weekend.

The light scent of Jiyong’s cologne greeted you the second you opened the door, and you found yourself taking a deep breath as you stepped in. Room service must not have come in yet because in true and typical Jiyong fashion, the room was nothing short of a mess. You smiled to yourself at the sight of the various shirts strewn across the suite couch, and the multiple pairs of shoes all over the place. He clearly had an indecisive morning. You took your suitcase into the bedroom, setting it off to the side before deciding to hop into the shower to wash the trip off of you.

You had just gotten dressed in lounge wear, towel drying your hair when you heard the sound of the door unlocking. You turned the corner to see your boyfriend walking in with several Chanel bags in each hand. The second the door clicked shut behind him, he looked up to see you standing there with a giant smile on your face. You didn’t even give him a second to put the bags down before you were squealing and charging at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

Jiyong’s laughing, having immediately let go of all the bags to wrap his arms around you and hold you to him. You jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he secured you in place with his hands underneath your thighs. You cup his face, still giggling before bringing your lips to his. This kiss is soft, and sweet, both of you melting into each other. Your legs tighten around his waist as he walks you both forward, eventually placing you on the suite kitchen counter as he continued to stand in between your legs. The kiss deepened, both of your tongues caressing each other slowly. Eventually you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his, panting slightly.

“Hi sweet girl,” Jiyong breathes, his left hand reaching up and cupping your neck while his right hand remained on your thigh. You smile, hands still cupping his cheeks as you began to pepper kisses all over his face.

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” you say as you continue your playful assault. Jiyong is laughing, pretending to turn his head away but never really backing away from your kisses. As IF he would ever do that. You kiss him one last time, a big smooch on his lips before pulling back.

“Okay, I’m satiated for now,” you tease, bringing your arms around his neck, not really letting go of him as you twirl the locks at the base of his neck. Ji laughed again, always happy and giddy whenever he’s with you.

“How was the flight? Are you tired?”

You shake your head, not even an ounce tired.

“It was good, my boyfriend hooked me up with business class tickets so I traveled in style. Look, I even got to keep the complimentary toiletry bag and it came with a towel!” You stated, pointing over to where you had discarded the towel on the side of a chair before you had launched yourself at Jiyong.

“Hmm, he sounds like a good guy, that boyfriend of yours.” He smirked, proud of himself.

“He’s the absolute best actually,” you smile back, genuinely happy to be in his arms again. You looked over to the door and noticed the insane amount of Chanel merchandise. “Baby, did you buy out the company? How many things did you need?”

He laughed again, looking over his shoulder. “That’s actually all PR. They want me to wear a few items to the fashion show tomorrow. They also said I was allowed to bring a plus one…” he alluded, nonchalantly. “They said she had to wear Chanel too and gave me a bunch of stuff, but I told them you wouldn’t really be into it,” the shrugged, smirk on his face was diabolical.

“You shut up right now, oh my god!!! LET ME SEE!” You attempted to hop off the counter and run to the bags but Jiyong had other plans, scooping you off the counter and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Nope, I want to see you in nothing first, and THEN you can model the clothes for me,” he said, slapping your ass swiftly before walking towards the bedroom. You were giggling hysterically as he tossed you onto the bed, crawling towards you before resting his body on top of you, silencing your laughter with a kiss.

xxxxxxxxxx

A few hours (and countless orgasms) later, you sat on the couch in the suite in nothing but your panties and one of Jiyong’s sweaters, waiting for your boyfriend to step out of the closet in the outfit he had chosen for the fashion show. You sat perched on the couch, the sweater long, reaching down to your mid thigh as you nibbled on the complimentary snacks from a gift basket in front of you.

“Yah, Jagiya, I have to wear this high collar now because someone couldn’t keep her lips off me…” he tisked as if he was annoyed, peeking his head out from the closet to wink at you. You scoffed, popping an M&M in your mouth.

“You didn’t sound like you were complaining much,” you sassed back, pleased by the pink tint flushing his cheeks as he looked away, his gummy smile prominent as he giggled to himself.

“Okay, what do you think?”

Jiyong stepped back out, looking incredibly handsome in his black and white Chanel two piece. The collar was indeed a high one, with a bow, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Could he blame you? You had missed your man quite a bit and you loved the sounds he made when you nipped and sucked at his neck. You’d give him countless of hickeys if it meant you could hear him sigh and groan underneath you.

Unfortunately, you had forgotten about the fashion show in the midst of your tryst, and now Jiyong was riddled with deep red and purple bruises at the base of his neck.

Oops.

“You look gorgeous, baby. I love it,” Jiyong flushed at the praise, turning to look at himself in the mirror. He ran his hands through his fluffy mint hair, and you could see the gears turning in his mind as he thought about which hairstyle and accessories he could pair with his current outfit. You had settled on a simple black dress, a Chanel classic, with a tweed half jacket on top. It was stylish and simple and most importantly, complimented Jiyong’s outfit perfectly.

“Not nearly as gorgeous as you are, my love,” Jiyong said sweetly, staring at you through the mirror. You blew him a kiss, your turn to blush at his words.

The two of you spent the rest of the day in the hotel, alternating between eating room service, catching up on your tv shows together and christening most (if not all) of the surfaces in the suite. By nightfall, the two of you were spent. You were cuddled on the bed, tangled in the sheets as you rested your head on Jiyong’s bare chest. He was gently trailing his knuckles softly up and down your arm, as you trace random shapes on his chest.

You didn’t realize you began tracing the letters of your name on his chest, over his heart until he chuckled deeply.

“I love you,” he murmured. His voice was soft and deep, full of so much affection that you felt goosebumps appear on your skin.

“I love you too, baby,” you kissed his chest.

He tensed for a millisecond, and if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would have missed it. You raised your head slightly, looking at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Jiyong, smiled softly, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing Jagi. I’m good.”

You gave him a look that said cut the bullshit, an eyebrow raised. You poke his side gently, and he squirmed, moving away from you. You smirked at him, moving to poke him again, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Jagi…don’t,” he said in what he hoped was a stern voice. It really was more of a panicked squeak. You smirked evilly and moved to straddle him, giggling as he grabbed both of your hands, keeping them away from his sides. He was doing his best to keep you away, but not truly using his full strength, afraid of hurting you. Using that against him, you broke free and began to gently tickle his sides. Jiyong laughed loudly, his hips bucking as he tried to gently get you off him.

You giggled along with him and after a few more seconds you conceded, showing him mercy.

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” you say, keeping your hands on his sides as a playful warning.

“It’s nothing, I swear,” Jiyong chuckled, hands on your hips to steady you. You flexed your fingers again, and Ji tensed, giggling softly.

“Okay, okay. I was going to ask you a question but changed my mind.” He said, looking at you before looking at the ceiling above you, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. You cupped his cheeks gently, turning his head to bring his gaze back to you.

“Tell me. Please?” You asked softly. Jiyong’s eyes moved between your own and he sighed.

“Well. I was going to ask what your plans were after we’re done here in Paris.”

You let go of his cheeks, your gaze full of confusion.

“Uhhh I was going to…go home? With you? Back to Korea?” You responded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this.

His gaze was soft, unwavering.

“Right…but when you say “home”, do you mean your apartment?”

“Ji…where is this going exactly?” You said softly, a smile on your lips. Your heart rate increased slightly as you slowly began to understand what he was trying to say.

“I just mean…you stay over a lot at my place and already have some of your things the closet. My place is closer to your job, and it cuts your commute time. I just mean, if you want…you could come…and live with me?”

At this point, Jiyong was fully pink in the face, playing with your hands bashfully, to avoid looking you in the eye. Your heart melted; you didn’t know you could love someone as much as you loved Jiyong. For two years, it was easier to have separate living arrangements. It wasn’t ideal, but with the Korean media on a constant witch hunt for whatever G-Dragon was up to, it was safer for the two of you to have separate places to go, in case the media decided to snoop. It wasn’t great, but you both made it work, like you always had. Yet you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say you had dreamt of moving in with Jiyong 4 months into your relationship.

“Baby…are you asking me to move in with you?” You said softly, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to your lips. You kiss his fingers, his palms, his knuckles. You looked at him patiently, waiting for him to speak.

Jiyong stared into your eyes, his heart caught in his throat. He realized in that moment that he never wanted to spent another second of his life without you. He nodded, a smile on his lips and he held on to your hands.

“Will you please move in with me, Jagiya?”

You didn’t even give him a second to add anything to that question, kissing him deeply. You pulled back, your smile wider than it had ever been.

“Of course I will, baby. I can’t wait to go back home with you.”

Taglist: @ldydeath @loveesiren @petersasteria @pinkpunkdynamite @sherrayyyyy @wcnderlnds @jackielouuu

[mariespen]

➸ Career Day - Pt. 2

Sheriff!Rafe x Teacher!Reader

➸ Masterlist!

Requests open!

The ride in Rafe’s cruiser was intimidatingly quiet as his arm rested casually out of the window, country music humming softly from the radio. He had rounded up three of his men from the station, heavily implying that they should abide by his request for a favor. And what did he ask? A small task, really.

You, his perfect wife, had been working late nights to convince parents to attend the class’s career day—practically begging grown adults to contribute to their children’s education for just ten minutes. So, Rafe’s solution? Introduce your kids to himself, the sheriff, along with men from different positions at his station.

"The more variety of positions, the better," you’d told him just a few hours earlier, pressing a kiss to his lips before hurrying off to take the kids to school.

Luckily, your efforts had paid off, and by the end of the week, you had somehow convinced 20 parents to sign up for different time slots. The pride you felt when you secured the 20th RSVP was unmatched, though you had always kept the very first slot open for Rafe and his men. Your class was always giddy with excitement and nerves when real-life police officers visited.

A faint wail of sirens outside your classroom made your students freeze, eyes widening as they rushed to the windows. You let them have their moment, biting back a grin as they whispered in awe, tracking the movements of Rafe and his officers.

Your daughter, Samantha, was among them. She talked about her dad like she owned the entire police force, claiming she had every officer in town wrapped around her little finger.

Suppressing a chuckle, you clapped your hands together, your own excitement mirroring that of your students. "Alright, friends! Let’s sit down nicely and wait for our sheriff to meet us!"

The door opened, and in stepped Rafe, his thumbs tucked casually into his belt, exuding easy confidence. The other officers followed suit, making their way to the front of the class. Rafe caught your eye, his lips quirking up ever so slightly in a secret smile. You returned it with ease.

"Alright, guys! Sit quietly as these men introduce themselves!" You stepped aside, moving toward your desk but unable to take your eyes off Rafe’s uniformed stance.

"Hey kids, I’m your county sheriff, Rafe Cameron. These are some men from your police station. Here’s Detective Smith, and then we got Officer Colley and Officer Whitman—some of my best men." Rafe spoke with practiced authority, but there was a certain warmth in his tone, one meant for the wide-eyed first graders in front of him.

"We’re here to protect you and your families, yeah? It’s our job to help y’all and make sure each and every one of you is safe."

The other officers followed with their own introductions, summarizing their roles in ways the kids could understand. After about ten minutes, you stood up once again, practically glowing with pride as you addressed the class.

"Okay, friends! If you have any questions for our police officers, detective, or Sheriff Cameron, now’s the time!"

Almost every hand shot up.

"Yeah, Sammie?" Rafe asked, pointing to his daughter, whose brown curls bounced as she all but vibrated with excitement.

"That’s my daddy!" she announced proudly, looking at Rafe like he hung the stars in the sky.

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips. "Mhm, sweetie, did you have a question?"

Samantha’s face scrunched in thought before she quickly covered with, "Um… did you catch any bad guys today?"

"Not yet, it’s a bit early for an arrest," Officer Colley answered with a small chuckle.

"That’s right," Rafe nodded before shifting his attention. "You? What’s your name, son?"

"I’m Noah, sir," the boy at the front said hesitantly, then bit his lip before continuing. "How long does it take to become a police officer?"

"Just about nine months of training and a lot of hours of experience," Officer Whitman responded, nodding toward the boy.

"Even longer to become sheriff," Rafe added with a teasing glance toward his men.

Another hand shot up, belonging to a girl in the center row who looked particularly determined. "I want to be a detective. Do they make a lot of money?"

Detective Smith let out a hearty laugh before responding, "It’s not a bad life."

The questions continued until time ran out, and after a final round of thank-yous and goodbyes, the officers prepared to leave. Before heading out, Rafe crouched beside Samantha’s desk, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head and murmuring a quiet reminder to behave.

"Goodbye, kids! Be nice to Mrs. Cameron, or she’ll call me! I won’t be so nice then, m’kay?" Rafe teased, throwing a playful wink at your students as he waved.

Once the door shut behind them, you wasted no time slipping into Rafe’s arms, wrapping him in a hug before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you, baby," you murmured, your voice full of gratitude.

He let out a soft chuckle, his arm securing itself around your waist. "Always. See you at the house tonight?"

"Mhm! Love you!" you called after him as he backed away reluctantly.

"Love you too!" Rafe shot over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

[g0dlyunsub]

could you perhaps do a spencer x fem reader based on the song ‘i miss you, i’m sorry’ by gracie abrams? 🤍🤍

back to you.

upon your return after a year of working outside the bau, everyone welcomes you back with open arms – everyone except for one agent.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: angst, drinking, reader gets drunk, confessions and lots of apologizing

word count :: 2.9k

author’s note :: such a lovely request! this stretched out to be a lot longer than i had initially planned for, but what can i say, the song lyrics kept inspiring me to write more 

accompanying song :: i miss you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams

do you remember happy together?

can we start over?

those were the four words you wanted to say, but you chose to remain silent instead. 

the guilt piled and eventually torched your heart when it became too much to bear. you preserved whatever was left of your sanity by flooding your bloodstream with three cups’ worth of caffeine, deciding to pay the price with jittery fingers. 

you had just spent the past eight months working a leadership position at the doj, and out of all of the decisions you’ve ever made in your life, this was your most regrettable one by far. sure, there were a lot of benefits that came with your elevated status – your bank balance certainly thanked you for it – but you missed out on too much.

you missed out on all of your coffee outings with the girls. you missed out on dinners with the entire team, where you would’ve brought your charcuterie board and downed your stress with red wine and endless rounds of poker. you missed out on everything that you would’ve marked your calendar for – trips to the mall, the fishing pier, the fancy dinner place a few blocks away from the office.

but nothing pained you more than your missed days with spencer. the thought bugged you every day, and you could do nothing to ignore it.

because how could you not regret it, the weekly strolls to the library with a cup of coffee in hand and his scarf wrapped tightly around you, his scent nuzzling against you? 

memories of that day haunt you like it’s yesterday.

—

“spence, i don’t need the scarf. the coffee’s keeping me warm just fine.”

your brown-haired coworker scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets while his gaze fell onto the pavement. 

walking side-by-side with him always felt surreal. his voice blew past your hair and drifted into your eardrums as your feet hit the soft grass, your boots slightly wet from the sprinklers tending the green.

“do i need to remind you that you were sick four days ago?”

you couldn’t help the faint blush from creeping up your cheeks when he turned to meet your gaze with his rounded eyes. you wanted to call him out because his ears were tinged with bright red from the cold air, but you stayed put. your flushed cheeks grew even hotter when his shaky hands dragged up your shoulders and cinched the scarf tighter around your neck.

“besides, natural fibers work wonders at keeping moisture away from the body.” 

his slight rasp sent shivers down your skin, and scratched the back of your mind just right.

the urge to grab him and kiss him tugged at your fingers like an itchy scab, but you chose not to scratch it.

thought you'd hate me

maybe he was the reason you decided to come back. 

you couldn’t bear the same routine any longer, cramped up inside an office with no place to go besides the dimly lit room of your bare apartment still filled with unpacked moving boxes.

you didn’t have much luck making friends at your new workplace, and you threw the idea of finding a potential date out the window. 

and even after eight months, you couldn’t shake his crestfallen face from your mind.

—

“you’re leaving?”

spencer’s eyes immediately tore away from his book and landed on you, his lips slightly parted.

“in- in a week. yes, i’m leaving.”

you looked down at the ground and tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ears several times. an uncomfortable silence filled the air.

“how long has it been since you… accepted the offer?”

you paused before glancing up. the twinkle that always sits in his eyes seemed to gain an extra edge in that moment, and it was almost scary, how he stared at you so inscrutably.

“two weeks,” you said truthfully and looked down again, because you didn’t have it in yourself to hold his gaze. 

from your peripheral vision, you noticed how his knuckles were almost white from the sheer force with which he was gripping his book. you bit down on the insides of your cheek, hard.

“i didn’t know you were thinking of other options,” he muttered lowly, and your heart instantly dropped.

“it was a good offer, spence. a really good one. i-”

“yeah, i hope it was a good offer. i mean, i don’t know how much of a role we played in your decision, but i’m happy for you. congrats.”

you blinked a few times while his words echoed in your mind. his quick-witted response heavy with bitter undertones flooded you with the most intense feelings of remorse and guilt.

“this wasn’t an easy decision, if that’s what you’re talking about. spence, you’re like family to me, and leaving this all behind… i thought about this day and night.”

“you know, it’s kind of funny how you say that we’re like family, because a family would do everything to stay together. but then again, maybe i’m the exception.”

you really didn’t have anything to say after that.

he completely annihilated and swept through you, and still finished you off by walking past you to snatch his bag and leave the office.

you should’ve told him before.

but then he would’ve convinced you, and you knew that it wouldn’t take much to be coaxed into staying, especially when it was spencer. you consulted your parents and emily instead, and they all urged you not to overthink.

but that day, you were convinced you had it all wrong. 

i still love you, i promise

you could feel the tears surface almost immediately when you wrap your hands around emily’s back in a heartfelt embrace.

“how do you feel?” she pulls back and reaches into her pocket to hand you your id. 

you take it from her slowly, tracing your fingers over the edges while staring at the words ‘special agent’ next to your signature.

“i feel-” you shake your head in disbelief, “so happy to be back.” 

you don’t know if you sound as excited as you’re claiming yourself to be, but emily doesn’t pry into it.

“seems like you’re stuck with us no matter what,” she chuckles, and then clasps her hand around your wrist. “come on, everyone’s waiting for you.”

you heard them before you saw their faces.

the garish papers and sparkling trails of glitter land at your feet the moment the elevator doors open, and a striking pop sounds before a flurry of celebratory squeals and claps echo left and right.

“oh you, come over here!” penelope scurries over to you and sweeps you in a tight hug, and the others join in to clobber you with pats and playful pushes.

emily leads you into the office while everyone trails behind you excitedly, and stops to gesture towards a table decorated with your nameplate. you step back in awe.

“the table’s perfect.”

you smile and set your bag down to brandish your nameplate at the others. 

“i know! and guess who’s across from you.” jj laughs and moves her brows up and down, causing you to shift your glance at the surrounding desks.

and right across from you, you see it. the table, lined with books at every edge; the empty coffee mug; the nameplate.

as if right on cue, the office doors swing open, and the subject of your thoughts walks in.

you instantly feel the pang of guilt when his excited gaze turns into a vacant stare, when he realizes the source of rapture coming from inside the office is you. 

his eyes flicker up and down and his stare almost feels chilling. you need him to break the cold and say something. anything.

your team somehow makes it even worse by reading your silence as a desire to be left alone. they nod and point to the roundtable upstairs before whizzing up the stairs and disappearing behind the blinds, leaving you to face the man you haven’t seen in eight months alone.

“you’re back.” 

spencer says it with a voice so quiet, with a pace so swift, with a tone so flat, you don’t know if you’d be able to catch that it’s him if it isn’t for his face.

you don’t want his impassive tone to dictate the mood for the conversation when you’ve just hauled your feet all the way back, so you clear your throat and open your mouth to speak.

“i am. it’s nice to see you again.”

he stiffens. his reaction is a bitter pill to swallow.

“spencer,” you start, eyeing the vein marking the side of his forehead, “you- i’m probably the last person you want to see right now. i’m really sorry about last time.”

the unwavering expression on his face is unsparing, but you aren’t going to look away abashed.

“i just wanted to say that you were right. i should’ve never left in the first place. i hated every second of work there, and believe me when i say that i didn’t hesitate when emily asked if i wanted to come back.”

he could pierce your heart with his silent stare.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t tell you earlier. but i knew, i knew that if i consulted you i would’ve turned it down.”

you take a deep breath.

“i missed you so much, but i just didn’t have it in me to tell you that because i thought you’d still be mad, and you’re probably still really mad at me right now so it’s okay if you don’t say anything because i understand, i know that i’d be mad if i were in your place, but i just wanted to make it clear that i’m not going to leave again-”

“stop.”

he cuts you off, but the rattles of your apologies continue to drift in the back of your mind.

he tears his gaze away from you and shakes his head.

“i need some time… to think about this.”

without waiting for a response, he turns and walks off, up the stairs and away to regroup with the rest of the team. he doesn’t see the tears that cascade down your flushed face.

think i’ll make it worse

“great work today.” 

hotch nods at you with a warm smile before he steps out, leaving you to be the last one in the office.

walking over to your desk, you carefully pull out a large bottle of wine from a bag that rossi left earlier as a welcome-back gift. 

you make your way to the shared kitchen, and sigh happily when you find the corkscrew in the same drawer as before – a subtle reminder that some things haven’t changed. inserting the lever arm into the cork, you twist and pull until it lifts from the bottle with a satisfying pop.

without pouring the wine into a spare glass, you shuffle your feet until you reach the stairs, and plop down on the raised steps.

you take a small sip of the wine, savoring the taste as the liquid sloshes around in your mouth, and recall the events of earlier.

stop.

you take another sip.

i need some time.

you attach your lips to the mouth of the bottle and take a large gulp.

i need some time… to think about this.

you guzzle the wine without a single care, without considering the fact that your car’s still parked outside and that you need to get home somehow.

you drink until your lips stain with the color of dark purple, until you can smell the alcohol rubbed deep in your skin, and until you collapse to your hands and knees.

—

spencer hadn’t initially planned to go back to the office that night.

but when he rang your cell five times and each call sent him straight to voicemail, he knew something wasn’t right.

he was never good at verbalizing apologies, so he was just going to leave a letter on your desk to find in the morning. the two of you would address everything then.

because the truth was that he could never stay mad at you. he just needed to prepare himself, to be able to see your face again without feeling the heavy crash of emotions.

but when he turned up to the office and noticed the lights were still on, suspicious thoughts clouded his brain. 

hesitantly, he curled his fingers around the handles of the door and opened it.

he saw the empty wine bottle first, which had rolled its way to the entrance of the office and stopped at his feet.

crouching, he took the bottle in his palm and examined it before confusedly clicking his tongue and setting it on top of the kitchen table. 

but then he saw you, slumped over the stairs, your face sinking into your dress shirt stained with drops of purple.

he dropped everything and ran, ran as fast as he could, to your side.

i miss you, i'm sorry

you hear the soft swearing and realize you’re not alone, but you’re too drunk – too tired – to match the face to the fuzzy figure crouched beside you.

“have you been drinking this entire time?”

is that spencer? it’s surely his voice.

“spencer? oh my god, what- why are you here?”

he waves the bottle you had just downed in your face, and your hands instinctively move to reach for it. he pulls it away from you.

“did you just finish all of this?”

you give a lopsided smile and blink slowly. “oh, i swear it was just one sip.” 

that’s the only confirmation he needs. 

spencer tuts and sighs. he’s about to murmur a few words of disapproval when your head falls and you lurch forward, but he catches you just in time. with his palms cupping the sides of your face, he gently lowers you onto his lap.

“how were you going to get home?”

his voice brushes against you like feathers. damn it, he sounds intoxicating.

you smile sleepily. “what are you talking about? i am home.”

spencer frowns.

“no, your home is twenty minutes away from here. you’re still at the office.”

the office lights are too bright for you to handle, you move your hand to shield your eyes. spencer takes note of this, and moves his head over to cast his shadows onto your face. 

“no,” you breathe, “i’m right where i belong. with you.”

that’s not the answer he’s expected at all. his throat constricts and for a second, he’s glad you’re too drunk to notice the blush spreading across his face.

“did you mean it?”

you furrow your brows in confusion. “what?”

“did you mean it when you said you missed me?”

you let out a hushed laugh. “did you want me to say something else?”

spencer shakes his head. “i just want to know if you really meant-”

“god, spence, you look so kissable right now.”

he gulps.

he never thought the word kissable would ever tumble from your pretty lips, let alone be directed towards him. never, not in a million years.

“stop,” is all he can come up with.

“do you know who i missed the most when i left?”

he knows where this is going, and he needs to stop you before you spill too much. for your own good.

“let’s get you up.”

“you. it’s always been you.” 

he doesn’t want to give in to your bubbly laughs, your soft tugs at his shirt, your face nuzzling into his lap.

“after i left,” you continue to drawl your words with clarity only slightly greater than that of a burble, “i came to realize something.”

he doesn’t need to ask. he doesn’t need to know more.

“what?” 

he wants to know more.

“i can’t love anyone else.” you blink. “it has to be you. loving you is just that easy.”

you’re persistent. you flip onto your stomach and plant a kiss on his lap before slowly sitting up and staring intently into his eyes.

you’re drunk.

this isn't right.

spencer shakes his head as if to warn you, to give you your last chance to back down. 

you have to thank the alcohol for stripping you of all your nerves. “did you miss me?”

that, he can answer. spencer nods.

“say it back,” you whisper, gently tugging the collar of his shirt. 

a blush heats his cheeks. “i missed you.”

you move closer, until your lips are less than an inch from his left ear. “how much?”

seeing this side of you, so bold and carefree, has spencer practically gripping the carpet floor for support.

he's miraculously saved when you pull back and raise a hand.

“i’m gonna-”

you don’t get to finish because you collapse onto the floor, completely wiped out by the alcohol.

he releases all of the air he’s been keeping inside of his lungs with a heavy sigh.

he watches your chest rise and fall slowly, your lips upturned and drawing in deep breaths.

“too much,” he replies, knowing you can’t hear him. he thinks he hears you mumble something back, but it's too incoherent for him to understand.

with a soft smile, spencer leans in and carefully crosses your arms over his shoulders, before hoisting you on his back to carry you out of the office.

“let’s get you home.”

[ab4eva]

‘The Three of Us: ‘Tis The Damn Season’

Fully co-authored with mon petite chou @therealslimshakespeare 🩷 (& all credit to her for this gorgeous new moodboard!)

Notes: Happy new year babes! Our endless thanks and appreciation to all of you who have kept the love for these three alive with screams and reads and notes and who have inspired us to churn out some of the horniest shit imaginable. We hope you love this installment and please come and scream to us about it.

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

The Three of Us

The Three of Us: Brat Behavior

-

The past few months have been grand but far too busy. Or at least for Austin, workaholic that he is. You knew that he was dedicated and in a very crucial stage of establishing himself as one of the most respected and in demand actors of his generation but, the fact of it is, the holidays find you about as worrisomely detached from his hectic set-life as Callum is from the both of you an ocean away. There is FaceTime and the group chat and gifts sent back and forth and avid interest for each other’s success and fits of glumness, but the long stretch between last time all together has begun to wear, it’s a melancholy sort of missing of both of them and you long for the closeness. The easy way everything is so right when together.

Your mother and your girl friends are making proclamations these days, general platitudes about how a man who was serious about you would make this something more official after a year and a half of “casual” dating. And they’re right, if that’s what was still happening. To be fair, dating doesn’t seem to be what you’re doing anymore, you and Austin are so far beyond that despite the recent distance and added to it, Callum is as solidly a part of that seriousness that your head spins with what sort of talk is even needed to solidify something so utterly unorthodox and yet so crucial for your world to make sense. No one can know, not beyond the occasional snicker over espresso martinis about “the boys” and double innuendos about sharing that you can always laugh off in the sobriety of the morning after.

In this funk -which would be no funk at all if the ones you loved were simply near and life didn’t move too fast and work too slow- you find yourself in London in December. A work trip, but it’s left you feeling indulgent and more than a little mopey at the prospect of another fairy-light, snow-dusted, early December spent alone despite ostensibly being able to claim a boyfriend; and so you decide to stay over. You museum stroll, enjoy your favorite tea houses, explore the garden exhibitions, try your hand at photography on the various bridges. A text from Callum startles you out of your melancholy, asking if you “really came to London, stayed a few days, posted it on your Insta stories and ‘didn’t say shit’ to him about it.”

Chastened, and no longer deterred by the three avatar bubbles denoting each member of the group chat, you fire back apologies - a string of demure and pitiful emojis and inquiries as to how to make this slight better. There’s barely five seconds of typing ellipses before your sentence is read and responded to, Callum’s trademark eagerness coming through the phone so unequivocally that a wave of longing hits you out of nowhere and blooms bright in your chest.

Coffee and baguettes at Burhams, 4:00, Mumford and Sons playing at the Carlton at 7:00, so wear something sexy under the coat. But do bring a coat, it’s going to be frigid. He’ll schedule an uber if you give him your hotel address. And why the fuck aren’t you staying at his? See you tonight. Xx

To your credit, between the giddy smile on your face in anticipation of seeing him and the butterflies in your belly of having an evening that’ll finally match the jollity of everyone around your sad little self, you feel a tiny slither of doubt. You thumbs up his message, biting your lip in worry over how to reply, not that you don’t know what you want to say to him and how enthusiastically you intend to agree with his hijacking of your evening, but rather, an uneasy awareness of Austin’s presence in the chat. That very same presence that erases all the guilt of such a conversation, not that there should be any anyway, you’re all friends, but you find your fingers stall when you go to gush in approval of the plan as warmly as you intend.

Five whole minutes go by. Just your solitary and very unappreciative 👍 lingering there. It’s making it weird, you’re making it weird. This is how you’ve been all this season and you’re sick of it. Then another row of little dots appear, texting in progress. You hold your breath, melancholy and fond in expectation of Callum’s predictable ribbing over your moderation. But it’s under Austin’s name when the grey chat box slides into delivered. It’s simple, easy, a pink cheeks smile emoji at the end.

“Yeah, and wear tights with that coat, I know you. Tights can be sexy. Pneumonia isn’t ☺️.”

God you miss him. And it seems you’re going out with Callum tonight. You should overthink the pulsing bravery and excitement that takes over then, but you don’t. Because that’s a thing to be left behind with the loneliness at Christmastime when you’ve got people to love you.

-

“Look what the cat finally dragged in.” Callum’s familiar, husky drawl assaults you from behind and you can actually hear the smirk in his voice. You turn, a smile on your face that quickly fades when you see the wounded look of hurt in his eyes he’s desperately trying to hide with all of his casual bravado, and you realize all is not exactly forgiven yet. Lord, you’ve forgotten just how big he actually is. Has he always been this tall, this broad? Hands in his pockets now, he doesn’t immediately reach for you and your heart squeezes with the notion you’ve hurt him simply by being too in your feels about things lately. You should have called him the moment you landed and the guilt sits heavy as a stone in the pit of your stomach. This is Cal, your Cal! Not some random guy but your own lovely Englishman who means more to you and Austin than probably any other person on earth. Or close to it.

“Oh Cal…I…,” you falter, taking a deep breath and one step closer to him. You’re starting to shiver in this London chill and despite wearing tights like Austin told you to, you *also* wore something sexy (and short and not very warm at all), like Callum told you to. An arms length still separates you but you’re close enough now to feel the warmth radiating off his hulking form and you shiver again, crossing your arms over your body, as much for warmth as to fortify your strength. You’re half hoping he’ll jump in with his trademark ease, teasingly let you off the hook. Because how can you tell him all the reasons why you didn’t call. That he’s been on your mind day and night since you got here and you’ve been sleepwalking through London, half heartedly hoping to run into him at Camden Market or a museum or his favorite pub. And how can you tell him that you’re pretty sure you’re in love with him too, but how would that even work? It makes your brain hurt just thinking about it. What if he doesn’t feel the same? And Austin, oh god Austin, you love him so much it hurts and what would he think about it all? These cloudy thoughts swirl and clamor in your head, begging to be let out. But all you can do is stare at the grown man in front of you who looks for all the world like a little lost puppy.

Callum just stands there, blue eyes cold and distant, looking just over your shoulder, refusing to look at you. The hell with this, you can’t take another second of whatever this is. You close the gap between you in a flash, catching him off guard with your near tackle hug. He stumbles backwards with a little “oof” breathed out somewhere above your head as you snake your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on that big, broad chest. Warm, he’s so deliciously warm and you take a deep breath for the first time all day, maybe for the first time all month. He smells just like you remember - warm vanilla spice and cigarette smoke. He stiffens for a moment, hands still balled into fists in that damn jacket pocket.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing him tight as you feel a pinch in your nose and the pinprick of tears threatening to fall. No, that won’t do, Cal’s the injured party here, so you sniff discreetly and snuggle closer into him, shivering again. That does it, he’s too much of a gentleman to leave you in the cold for too long. You hear him sigh, and his arms wrap around you at long last, chin coming down to rest on the top of your head, and his body relaxes into yours. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just…never do that again, alright? If you’re in town, you call…fucks sake. Got it?” His voice is rough with emotion and you can tell there’s more he wants to say, questions left unanswered but you can both leave those for another time. You nod, still glued to him like a sexy starfish.

“Promise.” A simple word, falling from your lips. But you mean it. He grabs your coat from the back and hauls you away from him, the better to look you in the eyes for the first time in months. Fixing you with an intense, searching look he seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your eyes because he nods, once. He knows this is a promise you’ll keep.

-

It’s with relief you notice his smile gets crinklier the more tipsy you become as the night progresses. You cling to his arm for stability while unabashedly sipping down the remains of your fifth gin and tonic with what you hope is endearing gusto. His smile stays, it’s a good sign. You know Callum dislikes stilted companionship more than anything, and if you’ve become a little messy in your attempt to shake off the awkwardness -well, he’s taken it in stride, it’s better than your seasonal blues, your clinging is preferred to your previous neglect. His arm is so large and his hand so huge, you lean against him like a child tired out at a carnival and watch the dwindling order of the party swirl into chaos around you, his leather jacket sticky against your cheek, your little back corner a place of observation after hours spent in the throng, bopping to the beat with the best of them. It’s dizzying and bright looking on it now, your heels feel like they’re wobbling beneath your unmoving feet and it makes you drop your gaze downwards.

Cal is wearing slacks. Pinstripe slacks. The inseams of which are god’s strongest little soldiers. How is the thread not ripping? What’s he so big for? You miss the feeling of them crushing your cheeks, muffling your ears, jumping under your hands.

“Jesus babe,” he interrupts your train of thought, sounding like he’s getting fallacio at that very moment.

“What?” You lift your puzzled face from the crook of his arm and search his own very near, very flushed, very hungry face. Oh, maybe you’d said some of that aloud.

“Babe, you’re fookin’ sloshed.” He isn’t gentlemanly enough to call it tipsy, or maybe you’re way past tipsy. You try to punch his arm but merely end up slipping further into him, holding onto his waist with both hands, tonic glass caught by his reflexes somewhere along the way.

“Thanks’ou,” you mutter, smelling cologne and sweat and feeling the bulky barrel chest beneath your fingers, well and truly as solid and sweet as it was with his first hug this afternoon, “I feel good.” You realize it’s been such a while since you could say that.

His wry smile softens and it creases under his chin as he stares down at you, you feel fingers under your chin, the gesture making your eyes flutter closed. “Good.” His voice is so deep you think you feel it down to the soles of your feet. “Better get you home and tuck you in ‘fore the carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”

You pout, feeling like melting into him, quite sure you’re not physically capable of doing anything under your own steam, not wanting to, in fact wanting very much to let yourself be pampered, be a little spoiled.

So you pout.

“God,” you hear him mutter, he sounds like his voice is coming from the pits, he sounds drunk, he sounds turned on.

“You sloshed too?” You are obscenely hopeful and your hand proves it by sliding down his middle, intent on finding pinstripes and tracing them too.

“I- maybe- maybe more than I thou- holy shit babe, just hold on…I’m gonna get us a cab.”

You’re in public, being indecent. With a man who is not your publicized boyfriend. It strikes you as a delightful change of pace and nothing more. Your bubbly enjoyment of it is only further punctuated by the charming feeling of being lifted in the air and bodily carried through the miasma of tables in the raucous little venue, princess style in Cal’s big arms, out into the little flurries swirling in the late London air. You later assume a large man in an expensive jacket holding a pissed drunk girl wearing a skimpy sequined two piece cradled in his arms was probably perfect taxi bait on that sidewalk. You don’t really recall the wait, just the blast of cold and the feeling of being carried and the positively romantic swirl of lights and snowflakes above your topsy turvy vision, overshadowed by his big old nose.

You think you booped it.

You remember him almost banging your head on the tip of the taxi door as he stumbled in, the way it made you realize he too was sloshed. The way you spilled out onto the seat, giggling, and he had to pick up your legs to slide in beside you. The way he’d not bothered to buckle and simply gave out his address with a tacked on “thanks mate” before proceeding to desecrate the cabbies back seat with the foggiest kiss a London fare had ever witnessed.

Tongue in, mouth wide and devouring, hands in your hair. You were undone by it instantly, the forgiveness and the essential element of being missed; the slight edge of frustration that worked its way into each clack of your teeth and tilt of his jaw. You were being smothered to death in that backseat and you craved it, clung to him and kissed him back, exulted in being wanted and crushed. You felt his thighs under you own, so sturdy and warm, a flush of heat taking over at memories of what was between them, at the way he hurt you and had you coming back for more because he was so lovely about it. The way you couldn’t forget you’d been with him even days after; you needed that badly, a testament that you weren’t always lonely.

“Need you to make me feel it,” you slurred this sentiment aloud, fractured and too loud for decency, the feeling of the seat vibrating under your back and the lights of the city strobing through the droplet-specked windows. “Deep inside,” you insisted, obsessed with it.

“Gotta be quiet, now,” he begged with his forehead pressed to yours, face buzzing from the rough road, sounding gratifyingly hoarse, “almost there.”

Cal would likely tip the poor cabbie for your whining mouth.

“M’so’fucking horny,” you felt the need to impress upon him.

“No shit,” Cal mumbled against your mouth and you didn’t even have time to process the fact he slipped his hand inside your pantyhose until you felt the cold clinking of his watch against your lower belly, then the very electric touch of his finger between your sopping wet petals. He swirled them up and down your slit, once, twice, thrice, gathering a truly incriminating amount of slick. Then he stabbed in, entirely unlike his usual teasing and gentle build. He fucked in, two large fingers at once to the hilt and you let out a entirely involuntary little cry at the much desired and entirely unexpected relief.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined up at him, lips trembling and more than a little pathetic in your drunken state but you were being roughly finger fucked in the backseat of a cab after having been dismally celibate for over a month and it was really too much to expect from a girl not to curse over the happy burn of Callum Turner’s large fingers slamming home. “I can feel your stupid ring,” you managed, realizing it was the one he was always wearing, like some relic from another age, a signet ring sorta thing you’d teased him about. It kept bumping your clit, a cold metal shock, each time he slammed inside.

“You’re gushing.” He sounded like he was almost accusing you.

“Feels s’good,” you defended, about ready to come from this alone. “Been so closed up,” you pouted further, self pity in full bloom now you had a sympathetically horny ear. “Cal you gotta fuck me. You’re gonna fuck me, right? Please, Cally honey, please baby. Need to feel you deep.”

It’s all you can think of as you come on his fingers, the way he’s gonna ruin you if he takes you tonight. The way you’ll not have any room for blues or worries or anything, just being here in the present with the challenge of taking him all the way. It will consume you, turn you into a little cockslave with no schedules or requirements or holiday demands. You’ll have one job and it’s to let Callum bottom out where you can feel those plump and hairy balls against your ass and nothing more. You’d kill for it right now. You’d certainly let him finger fuck you in the back of the cab about it. Proved that already. Who’s acting too distant now? Now that your walls are clamped around his fingers like a vice, soaking his wrist with your orgasm, crying into the palm of his hand held right against your mouth.

“Fuckin’ mouth on you tonight, luv.” He sounds as strangled as you feel. “Whatever you want, whatever you want, baby girl. Beggin’ for my cock…missed me that bad, huh? I know you remember how to take me but it’s been a little while…sure you feel like having that pretty little pussy ruined tonight?”

Your eyes roll back again at his filthy goading. The truth is, it’s been too long and it’s always a challenge with him anyway. A sore point occasionally between the three of you but it is as it is, and your state of mind has you longing for an entirely preventable limp tomorrow.

“I’ll take it, I’ll be good,” you swear, grinding your hips up on his own, trying to feel the throbbing monster in question, impeded in your quest by the stupid pantyhose Austin wanted your wear. “All of you, I promise, won’t even make you go slow. Want you to break me.”

Cal tips the driver exorbitantly, after having wiped his sticky hand off on those pinstripes. The feeling of your wet warmth makes him so hungry to be inside you he forgets his basic maths. It doesn’t matter, he errs on the side of too generous and rolls himself out of the ride. He then pulls you out after him like you’re a bit of slinky play dough. You are recovered enough to walk you find, once your feet meet cement, and it’s something, it’s good enough to hold onto his hand and let him lead you up the four stairs leading to his brick townhouse with its wrought iron railing and navy blue door. You’ve never been inside, only seen pictures. The novelty is thrilling; Callum’s got the door swinging wide before the poor misused cab has even disappeared down the street.

There’s a pleasant foyer right inside, warmer in palette and decor than most renovated homes these days, with a polished wood floor and powder blue walls and a chandelier overhead, gold to match the giant gold mirror hanging above an antique side table holding the keys to what you assume is his car and a stray bag of dog treats fresh from Tesco. It’s instantly charming and intriguing, and so very like him that your heart melts in endearment. Then picks up in a shocked tempo when you feel his huge hands on your waist, pushing more than guiding you over the threshold. He spins you effortlessly and you’re bent bodily over the pretty antique side table before you can even help.

Horizontally you watch his hand, the one that had just been inside you minutes ago, swipe off the dog treats and the fancy little silver tray holding his keys. They clatter to the wood floor and you shake at the reminder he’s as keyed up as you are or worse, not having gotten relief in the cab like you did. You remember your stupidity, you raving and saying you wouldn’t make him go slow. Your mouth dries out and jitters pulse through you now, a war between sparkling arousal at every dominant action he takes and downright terror at your big, drunk mouth over promising your cock taking abilities.

He yanks your pantyhose down unceremoniously and you don’t move, not even when you hear the rip his impatience makes in them, you keep your flushed cheek to the cool wooden table top and try to even out your breathing, try to remember it’s Callum and it’s what you want and he’s gonna impale you bent over this table apparently, like a couple of insatiable sex addicts managing only to get to the first available surface. The sound of his belt shouldn’t make you full body shudder, not after all the times you two have been intimate in other places and other times, but right now everything else seems so quiet. Just two sets of lungs breathing in and out, and the distant hum of his fridge, the muted traffic outside, the grate of his zipper.

Your eyes flick up, remembering the mirror. He’s staring down in its reflection, not at your eyes but at your bare bottom, the sequined skirt puddled around your ankles. You feel his toe nudging at your instep and you spread your legs wider, tabletop digging into your lower belly as you lean forward more, arching your back, giving him a peak of the cleft between your legs.

The slap on your ass jolts your body forward more, your trembling hand reaching out to steady yourself, mussing up the mirror with your greasy print. “Arch it baby, that’s it, throw it back for me.” He presses on your lower back and you tilt as much as you can, feeling cold air hit your petals as Callum’s calloused hand kneads your ass cheek, crudely pulling you apart, thumbing at where you’re glittery and wet. His handspan is sobering. Your heart pounds in your ears louder than the band earlier tonight.

“Stay like tha’, just like tha’,” he commands. “M’gonna fuck the pout off ya.”

The sheer, blunt weight of him pointed up against your little hole feels utterly reckless when it happens. You stare at his face in the mirror and the glazed look of determination on his, the way he’s still staring at where he’s lined himself up, the animal in him fully in control, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips.

He doesn’t do you the courtesy of meeting your eyes when he slams inside, it’s just as well really. Your own screw shut as your mouth unhinges in a scream, raw and uncensored, feeling it fully and it’s as much as you remember and he didn’t go slow. And he doesn't even look at your face, not when you squint your tearful eyes open again to beg for reassurance; he’s staring down at where he split you apart, mesmerized and utterly smug. You feel yourself trembling, belly a raw ache immediately.

He’s too deep.

His belly is warm against your ass, curly trail of hair tickling with each heave of his breath. You try to shimmy away, further atop the side table, nose almost smudging the mirror. A warm and solid hand on the back of your neck yanks you back, back down on him fully, back on your feet: you hear your own sob like it belongs to someone else.

“Cal…” you try to beg your way into a dishonorable retreat but the hand stays strong and sure beneath your skull.

“Tell me ya missed me,” he demands, and you’re not sure if it’s what’s required to be let off his cock or for him to slam it home again.

It feels like true, broken, stupidly desperate begging when you comply, no game in it at all, “I did, I did.”

“Say it.” He puts you out of your suspense with a rough thrust and it knocks out your breath. “Say you missed me. Say it.”

“Missed you!” you wail, cheek smushed under the press of his hand.

“And you wa’me to fuck ya,” he insists, hips snapping fast now and you let out unstoppable little grunts of effort as your body accommodates him as best it can, “tell me, tell me, baby.”

In the mirror above you he looks pissed or hurt, probably has been all evening and now he can have this, you can make it better by this. It's such a hot thought. Earning his forgiveness this way. Genuinely a blow to the boss babe mentality wilting inside you, the way he fucks such flattery out of you, the way when cock dumb and bent over in his entry way, you mean it in perfect sincerity: “Missed you so bad Cal, missed the way you fuck me up.”

“I fuck you up?”

“Yes!”

“Only me? Only me, baby? Tell me-”

It’s on the tip of your tongue, it tastes as sincere as all the other jumbled admissions you’ve screamed out face to face with your own reflection here. Except this one isn’t true. And it hits like a bucket of ice water on your raging arousal.

Austin. Oh god, what about- Austin.

You freeze, blood running cold and croak out a meager “Stop!” Callum doesn’t listen, too caught up in the moment to hear and you say it again, louder, more forceful - “Callum! Stop!”

To his credit he does, immediately, concern flooding his pink, sweaty face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Oh god, did I hurt you for real?” You hear the slight tinge of panic in his voice starting to escalate and the hand that had been pressing you into the table suddenly releases you and helps you struggle upright onto your elbows as you wince. No easy feat as you’re still impaled, and fluttering around him at that. He grunts a little but doesn’t make a move to disentangle you both…yet.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, his face still a jumble of concern and questions and yours suddenly ghostly white. “Austin,” you whisper brokenly, “we-. We forgot about Austin. Fuck. We didn’t even ask him if we could…oh my god, oh my GOD. What have we done?” Now it’s you who begins to panic, hot tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Hey…shh, calm down, babe. Calm down. You’re totally right, we should have asked ‘im. Here, lemme just…” he trails off and you feel him struggling to reach his phone in the back pocket of his pants, which are still around his thick thighs as he didn’t even bother to pull them all the way down. He grins at you in the mirror, holding up his phone triumphantly. “We should call him.”

Before you can really hear or process that fully…

FaceTime screen. You flinch, realizing what an insanely compromising position you’re currently in, with Callum’s cock buried deep inside you just like you’d asked, no regard or thought for the man you’re currently in a relationship with. Austin doesn't answer - thank god. You’re so relieved. Then suddenly Callum’s talking behind you, voice text memo thingy… “Butler, wake up.”

“We got ourselves into a shituation of sorts and didn’t wanna leave ya out. It’s like eight a.m. there for fuck’s sake, wake up my balls are killin’ me, man.”

You better believe that Austin wakes up then. He’s very suggestible first thing in the morning to Cal’s sex voice. He’s heard it before, of course, but only as solo messages in the group chat. We was mentioned and Austin’s morning wood does the thinking for him when he sees a missed FaceTime call and punches redial. Laying on his belly, cock chafed on the sheets, outraged curiosity on his baby face, “WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS?!”

Calllum’s double chin in view, he’s red, sweaty, high ceiling visible. Austin’s less annoyed about whatever is going on and more about…he just woke up?! He planned on avocado toast and espresso and reading the morning paper in leisurely silence, maybe a warm shower with some self care. But what the actual fuck?

“I realize I’m taking liberties,” Cal starts huffing, sounding strangled and keeping you well out of sight, “but she looked so pretty and I missed you both, and we did get pretty drunk…please tell me I can keep going.”

Austin can’t seem to stop shaking his head and rubbing his sleepy eyes and repeating, “What the fuck?”

“Come on mate, let ya watch!” Cal wheedles, grin growing as Austin doesn’t verbalize any actual qualms. It’s not consent but anything less than a hard no from Austin means Callum can try to use his charm.

“We can talk about all this later, we really need to, actually but, uh, please, lemme.” He pauses, another grin splitting his face as pulls the phone closer to get a better look at the screen. “Fuck, you look so good all sleepy, bet your ass is out too, huh? Austin?”

“What the fuck, Callum? Just…lemme see her. Babe? You there?” You can hear Austin on the other end of the line, and with that, consent is assumed. You start babbling, trying to explain some shit as the phone comes in front of you, Cal’s massive hand obscuring you partly as he tries to prop it up on the mirror’s gilt frame. Austin’s rumpled, blonde bedhead and blue eyes swim into view and your heart skips a beat at the familiar sight. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s worked up, so horny already. You see your slightly horrified face reflected in the tiny screen in the corner, along with your bare ass and Callum clearly attached somewhere lower. He’s leaning over you, his cock stabbing deeper inside you, pressing you harder against the table and squeezing the last bit of your the breath out.

“…didn’t consider your feelings, baby, I’m so sorry if you’re not comfortable…OOOH FUCK CAL!” you gasp. You’re trying not to clench but you can’t help it and he keeps groaning and fucking into you in tiny little thrusts. You lose all thought, all ability to speak as Cal starts up again in earnest. Your face is so close to the camera and Austin can mainly see you - wincing, starting to cry as Cal pummels you from behind. Pretty soon he starts moving too, not even thinking about it. It’s just that the sheets are dragging so well, feeling so good. Watching his girl’s face as she takes his best friend’s cock. Poor you, eyes wide and mouth propped open in a perfect “o”, sweet face looking half-pained most of the time. The breathy way you say Austin’s name is almost pleading - you’re not sure if you want him to save you through the screen or absolve you.

“He too big for you, angel?” he asks without even thinking, eyes all consoling and compassionate. You manage a small whine, nodding as you bite your lip at a particularly hard thrust.

“He doesn’t take no’s well,” Austin reminds you in a sympathetic told ya so way.

“Damn right,” gets huffed in your ear. “He knows you’re a little slut, knows you were sayin’ “yes yes yes” a second ago. Isn’t that right, Butler? Yeah, look at him all sorry for you, he knows I won’t stop, it’s why he’s too chicken to let me try him, huh Aus? ‘Fraid it’d be too much?” You catch Callum’s self-satisfied smirk in the mirror. Austin mumbles a quiet “Shut up” but his eyes are drooping like he’s about to cum.

“Mm hmm, thought so, mate. Better be glad I’m not there right now or that tight little ass of yours would be wrecked,” Callum goads. Austin watches your face contort as you take him, half-imagining himself on the receiving end. It’s a subconscious combo of wanting to put himself in your place, knowing it would hurt for him and also to soothe his slightly-bruised ego that another cock isn’t even better, it’s too big in fact for you.

“Fuck baby, is it so deep? Does it hurt?” He sounds hopeful. “He’s too big isn’t he, awful big British man who doesn’t even know how to tease, my poor baby it hurts, yeah, I can see it hurts. You cry so pretty. You gotta be good though, you gotta take it, gotta keep our mate happy.” Austin licks his lips, sounding strangled, his wavering voice an octave lower than normal. “All the way in Cal, come on go all the way…ooh fuuuuck yeah, you gotta force it don’t you? She’s so tight, isn’t she…oh fuck, my poor baby, don’t stop now.”

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you Butler? What I’d feel like? You ok, bruv? Wishing this was you? Lookin’ a lil wistful on me, maybe it’s jus’the screen. Naughty…gonna have to shove your face into the pillow just to keep you quiet. I know how loud you can be when you come,” Cal grunts as he pounds into you, keeping his eyes firmly on Austin’s through the screen as he does. Austin starts to flip over onto his back, easier wring himself out that way.

“Ah ah ah, don’t touch yourself, pretty man, we both know you don’t need it - not with this, not with us. Want you to rub it out against the sheets, like the pretty little bitch you are.” Callum meets your stare in the mirror, his eyes glittering with mirth and lust.

That mischief is infectious, combined with Austin’s own almost salacious investment in your penetrated state- it gives you an idea. More like a need.

“Babe.” Austin’s gaze snaps back to your face at the sound of your voice, pupils dilated and lush mouth hanging open. “Be a good boy and open the bedside drawer…yes darling, that one. Grab my favorite vibe, the pink one. That’s it…mmm you’re such a good listener. Now…can you turn it on for me, baby? I want you to put it on your cock.” You watch as he obeys your every command, his forehead dropping to the bed when the vibrations reach their intended destination.

“Butler, move it down,” Cal calls him out on it, smirking and waiting to see if he actually will.

Austin doesn’t even argue, just grits out, “I don’t even have lube.” His sad bunny face reappears briefly as he lifts his head but he’s moving it down anyway, off screen.

“Yeah, neither do we, did we doll? Nah! -s’gonna hurt, Aus.” Callum says this last part, half goad and half encouragement. Austin feels so naughty doing it, even after everything. That's one threshold he hasn’t crossed yet. But for you? For both of you? To be part of the fun? He’d do just about anything you two asked of him.

“That’s it baby, be a good boy, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, keep going,” you praise his timid but consistent efforts from five thousand miles and an ocean away. “Fuck Austin, you sound so pretty like that.”

You and Callum watch Austin through the tiny phone screen, shifting and coloring and so sure he’s not into it either but his throat is tightening and so are his balls….his whole lower belly is throbbing.

“Is this…fuck…is this how girls feel?” He doesn’t know but god it’s another thing entirely, now that you and Cal are begging and encouraging and swearing he’s got this.

He very much doesn’t “have” shit but…

…If his baby says he does, then he does. He lets out a hoarse scream, like he’s been struck by lightning and he’s too seized up to even get it out of himself if he wants to. Pretty face planted in the pillow, the phone tips over a little and you can see all his golden hair sticking up, a sliver of scalp. He beats the mattress with his fist, and Callum starts laughing inside you. You’re not sure if it’s funny or concerning. But you start laughing. Can't help it. It’s contagious. Callum almost slips out of you and has to grab your hips to stay firmly planted.

“You ok mate? ‘Oh fuck’ for bad or just ‘fuck’ for good. C’mon, talk to us Aus.” He’s still wheezing and laughing. He’s horrible. Austin knows Callum is watching him…it’s making him feel a million odd little things, all of them very dizzy and very warm.

“Oh fuck, no it feels better- worse- like this,” Austin manages through gritted teeth.

“Fix the phone baby, we wanna see you,” you say. When he does there’s a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes - from pleasure? Pain? Both? He’s not sure, but whatever it is makes you and Cal so turned on that things are suddenly not funny anymore in the least. An intense silence fills the room, only heavy breathing and a couple of whimpers can be heard as you all zero in on the same thing - chasing that blacked out sun and exploding stars. Watching y’all go at it distracts Austin just enough to get into it, in a good way, to get on top of that out of control feeling. But it makes him keep clenching down and he lets out a sort of wail, clamping a hand over his mouth - where the fuck did that sound come from? He’s never made that sound before in his life.

Cal starts babbling to you about how pretty he bets Austin looks, spread out on that big white bed, and for a moment Austin forgets you, too busy realizing Callum is watching him squirm from being stimulated in a way he never has been before. He almost loses it right then at the overheard praise.

“Bet his ass is all clenched up.”

“Think his back is sweaty yet?”

“Bet he’s leaking everywhere.”

“Are you really crying, Aus? Fuck, you look so damn sexy like that.”

Pathetic sad groaning, muffled from the pillows where he’s dropped his head again, Austin moans out, “Maybeeee -my assss, oh god. Oh no fuck…I’m gonna cum.”

The panic in his announcement is comical, considering the impending bliss. But it’s no laughing matter anymore, the building feeling deep in his gut, nowhere familiar at all and yet stronger than anything he’s ever known was possible. He thinks when the feeling crests he’s going to be shattered into a million pieces. He can’t quite breathe with the way it’s making him seize up, the little toy tucked inside with its vibrations making his whole body twitch and writhe at unexpected intervals ever more frequently. There’s a nasty puddle of precum under his chafed cock and Austin feels fresh tears of self pity gathering, ready to spill. He’s going to cum and it’s terrifying.

“Baby-you-look-,” your intended compliment gets punched out of you a lá staccato thanks to the bruising your cervix is taking as Callum quite loses his mind from the feel of your gripping walls and the sight of Austin getting off on the buzz of a pink girl-vibe tucked in his peachy little ass. “You-look-so-pretty,” you manage and watch as Austin flings his head up, looking strangled and with every vein in his neck pulsing wildly, and in tandem, it feels, with the beat of Callum’s heartbeat inside you, unless your all-encompassing horny has made you utterly delusional.

Austin cums silently, except for a choked off shriek of shock that heralded his arrival, his beautiful face contorting in exquisite agony, his own brutal pleasure so palpable through the screen it becomes a symbiosis of sorts in your own body and what has been a brutal, mind-numbing fuck for you so far now becomes the instrument of cutting your tether to earth and the next slam of Callum’s hips into yours sends you off, eyes glued to Austin’s bubblegum pink lips and a delighted scream echoing through the flat.

Spent, in the aftermath, you rest your head against the table once more, only the top of your head visible to the FaceTime video, and take what Callum is chasing in his vigor. You feel your recent wetness squelching and running down your thighs as he fucks you through the last of the pleasure and into that burning realm of too much.

“Cal- Callum, please, you gotta-.” It’s not your voice doing the begging though, your ears may be ringing so badly you can hear colors right now but it’s Austin, you’re sure of that. Austin, not you, begging Callum to cum, “-I can’t keep, I can’t stop I, please, please cum -I-”

He can’t stop clenching, cumming, awful little dribbles and spurts of semen milked out of his bobbing cock by each buzz of your vibrator that he’s either forgotten he can willfully remove or else can’t manage to because of how reactionary each shift of his body feels.

“Wan’me to cum? Wan’ me to fill you up?” Callum sounds winded as fuck, slurring and drunk and full-blooded Londoner.

You don’t even think to answer, even though it’s your body he’s using. Your body that’ll be filled up.

“Please,” Austin answers for you, sounding so whimpery you feel yourself shake apart again, a small and involuntary climax in direct correspondence with the audible stimulation from his pathetic state.

When Callum cums it’s so warm and much and plainly obvious, striping your inner walls and soothing the abused ache, that you feel half euphoric and half like a terrible defrauder that you’ve felt this and not Austin. It’s all you can manage though, fucked and wrecked and ruined as was promised on the packaging, you can’t do more than sag further on top the side table and relish the feeling of Callum’s cock beginning to soften inside you, allowing a little breach in the dam for a trickle of cum to drip out.

“Aus, take the fookin’ vibe out ‘fore ya pass out on us.”

Cal’s voice sounds so reassuringly commanding the last little bits of your frazzled self melt away with the dregs of arousal and you lift your head in time to watch Austin face plant for the tenth time while reaching behind himself to obey.

“There’s a good lad,” Callum teases in your ear and you shudder from the secondhand praise, shuddering too from the way Austin looks like a debauched cherub, naked and meek in a sea of white sheets illuminated by a clear New York morning, staring down at the little pink wand he’s just retrieved from his still tingly ass.

“Fuck,” he articulates with swollen lips.

“Show us the puddle, come on mate, ya must’ve milked out a pint goin’ on an’ on like that. Ya lil freak.”

Austin blushes under the coarse praise and shyly points the camera to the desecrated sheets. You hear yourself moan before you can bite it back.

“I wish I could lick it up,” you realize longingly, dazed and used, and maybe you are still drunk.

“Your mouth!”-Cal, “Your mind!” -Austin, comes out from both men simultaneously and it makes you realize you really should’ve been asleep ages ago. You hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud. You blush, actually blush, and after what you all just experienced you really shouldn’t have any embarrassment left. You start to giggle, quickly followed by the boys, until Callum is slipping free from your poor, abused pussy and guffawing until tears are leaking from his eyes and down his cheeks.

“Goddamn,” swears Austin, his giggles finally fizzing out. “You two will be the death of me. Hang up the phone and go to bed already. Call me when you wake up.”

“I love you, Austin.” You grab the phone and hold it close, memorizing every inch of his face in milliseconds, suddenly not wanting him to go. “I miss you, babe. So damn much.”

“Me too, sweetheart…I’ll see you soon, ok? And Cal?” He comes up behind you, wiping his eyes and leans over your shoulder to grin into the phone. “You bastard,” he teases. “Watch yourself, bud.”

“Oh, I’m really scared, mate. Fuck off and go eat your avocado toast, fancy man.” And with that, Callum hangs up the call and you both stumble blindly through his darkened house and into the bathroom for a quick and necessary shower. He tosses you a soft and worn gray t-shirt to sleep in and you’re off to dreamland almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. It seems like you’ve only been asleep a few minutes when you feel a soft squeeze on your toes. You yank your foot away and whine, not ready to wake up.

“Cal…stoppp,” you pout, jerking the covers up over your head and burrowing down.

“Wake up, Grumpy Gus, I brought coffee and croissants.”

That voice. The one you heard from thousands of miles away last night. The one you hear in your dreams. You throw the covers off in one swift motion and rub your eyes. It can’t be. But it is. Standing at the foot of the bed, a gentle smile on his face and a tray of coffee in one hand and a white paper bag in the other.

“Austin?! What are you even doing here?” You scramble out of bed and leap into his arms, squishing his cheeks between your hands and covering his face with kisses. He laughs and stumbles backward, just barely getting the coffee onto the dresser before it spills.

“I missed you too much so I caught the next flight to London. Couldn’t stand to be away from you for another minute. Happy to see me?” His eyes flick down shyly as he waits for your answer.

You don’t answer. Instead, you press your lips to his, tenderly at first and then hungrily, drinking in all of him. “More than happy, you have no idea,” you whisper when you come up for air.

“The fuck is going on?” a raspy voice calls out from the bed. Callum looks like he’s been hit by a truck - eyes squinty, face creased by sheets and curly hair sticking up at all angles.

“Austin brought coffee. And croissants,” you chirp, all traces of sleepiness gone.

Callum just shakes his head and groans, falling back into the sheets and pulling the covers over his eyes. “He would fly across an ocean just to make sure his girl didn’t like another cock better than his. Show off.”

-

Tags: @crazymadpassionatelove @stylespresleyhearted @oskea93 @softboo @winniemaywebber @spiderstyles04 @abswifey @thegettingbyp2 @blikebarbie92 @missmaywemeetagain @icedb1ackcoffee @wildfll0wer @dilfelvis @slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @cherieaustin @liv-n @denised916 @coureurs-de-bois9 @steph-speaks @jjubilee-fluff

[muletia]

guys... please let me cook... and hear me out on this...

obsessed!megop x reader

but not in a 'we're rivals fighting for the love of our lives' or 'sharing our darling' way — more like 'after the messiest divorce in the universe, we got back together, but now YOU are entering this relationship with us'. basically, a poly relationship sprinkled with insanity and horniness

very incoherent and loose headcannons word count: 1100 18+ content at the end (nothing detailed tho)

Let’s assume Megatron and Optimus sort things out. After eons of brutal fighting, they go back to their roots—being with each other, not against each other. They find common ground in their conflict, reaching a compromise between ideologies. Maybe it’s when you entered their lives, and their intense feelings for you began to overlap, eventually aligning on the same wavelength. They realized they could allow themselves a fresh, better start. Build a relationship anew, this time on sturdier foundations. Escape the trap of repeating the same moves— ones that only slowed their rival down rather than destroying him outright. In this case, you’re the catalyst for peace, the olive branch that reconciled two warring factions, all while bringing an end to the longest, most toxic divorce trial in the universe.

When there’s a breakthrough in their relationship, the tangled mess of emotions—hatred, longing, and fervor—slowly begins to untangle. That’s when they disappear from your life for a while. From everyone’s daily life, really. Megatron no longer sat brooding on the Nemesis, scheming your next abduction, and Optimus never returned to base after announcing he was going to "clear his mind." They vanished like stones dropped in water. Zero contact. Not even Soundwave could locate his master. The Autobots were just as clueless.

For you, this situation seemed perfect—you could finally start living a normal life. No more getting kidnapped at 3 a.m., no more being stuck under house arrest at the Autobot base. No more deranged warlord holding you on his lap, promising passionate fantasies that could never come true as long as his rival kept a protective watch over you. And no more overprotective Autobot leader spending hours parked in your driveway. You were free. For about a month.

Ratchet is the first to inform you. After weeks of complete radio silence, they finally managed to locate Optimus. And despite the routine drama of abductions and rescues, you couldn’t help but feel happy. And relieved. Because you missed him, even if you were exhausted by his antics. Maybe you even missed Megatron a little... Despite his madness, he could be charming and intriguing, at least. And everything was going great, just fine—until Ratchet informed you that Optimus was at your house. And he wasn’t alone.

From that point on, you became entangled in their fledgling, turbulent relationship. Passionate, yet resembling a ticking time bomb. Still unexplored. And the funniest part of it all? You were living a much better life than before, even though you were the only sane person in this relationship.

They’ve infected each other with their mania, directing it toward each other whenever you’re not around. It’s especially convenient for you because now Megatron has someone else to fixate on when he feels possessive or craves physical contact. He can take it out on Optimus, who also acts as a brake on his partner’s urges when they get too overwhelming when the need for touch prickles at his claws. No more abductions and schemes—now he can vent on Optimus. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. When you come home from work, both of them are eagerly ready to show you just how much they’ve missed you.

They quickly find a way to insert themselves into your home. To have a space that’s yours, where they know you’ll always return—and they take full advantage of it. You come back from work, and they’re already there. You’re just taking off your shoes, and you can already feel warm claws brushing against your exposed neck, followed by gentler servos caressing your cheek. Megatron wastes no time, pressing his sharp dentae to your bare skin. Optimus, ever the considerate one, asks how your day was and reminds his partner that you deserve at least a minute to relax. A brake. You go to prepare dinner, and behind you, there’s the subtle sound of metal tapping against metal and an even quieter, low moan...

With two Cerberuses at your side, you’re practically untouchable. And while Optimus doesn’t go beyond stern verbal warnings or intimidation by size, Megatron is ready to demolish your boss’s house if he dares make a snide remark at you. This dynamic also shows when you’re around the Autobots (it took them a long time to accept the new reality, by the way). One sassy comment from Arcee, and your protector is ready to return to the warpath to defend your honor. There are even times when Optimus fiercely defends his partner when someone on his team doubts Megatron’s reformation.

Even though they have each other now, content with their companionship and finally feeling fulfilled, they still can’t stop talking about you. Declarations of the passion they feel for one another almost always transform into monologues about you—about their longing, the softness they associate with you, the belief that if you were with them right now, they’d feel that sense of completeness again. Wholeness. Fulfillment. Harmony. Caught up in each other, but still aching with longing for their human. Their beloved. Without you, they’re like planets without a sun—lost, unproductive. They need you to function on a basic level. The three of you are inseparable.

The end of the war means more free time. Both of them are now unemployed, so all their attention shifts to nurturing your relationship. Including in the bedroom... Suppressing their feelings for so many years, burying them deep in their sparks even as they fiercely clawed for freedom, they’re surely brimming with frustration—frustration that spills into their most intimate, primal needs. They infect you with their fever, proving just how unbearably they’ve missed you and how deeply the desire to have you has consumed them. How it’s burrowed into their processors, taking over their lives, manipulating every choice and decision.

Some days, they can’t wait. The conversation about you goes on too long, dives into too intense, too intimate territory, mocking their self-control and teasing hidden components. Sometimes they climax, chanting your name, even when you’re not around. Sometimes you witness their "games." You don’t intervene, yet have full control. Watching with your own eyes just how utterly dependent they are on you, how they can’t release without your approval.

If having one titan in love with an ordinary mortal wasn’t already an empowering feeling, now you have two, completely at your mercy. Both burning with their own desire and all the tools needed to relieve it—yet it is your word that is final.

try not to develop a god complex challenge, lmao