#when I haven’t even said anything about said job today

[thewholeworldatyourfeet]

-

[reidrum]

I can't stop thinking munch!spencer x reader who's insecure about having thick thighs (it's me, I'm reader)

take a seat | s.r

hi thank u for requesting!! i tried to be ambiguous about reader’s size but if it doesn’t come across that way lemme know and ill fix it!!!

wc: 1.7k

cw: 18+ smut minors dni, afab reader, face sitting, munch!spencer my beloved, insecure!reader who i took to be a little self indulgent sorry, fluff, hurt comfort but no hurt lol

this is also not proofread sorry

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the thing about spencer is if you have any fear or qualm about anything, his main verbal form of comfort is information. and it’s not a bad thing, not at all. finding comfort in the facts is what spencer hopes to achieve when he spews his tidbits. it’s just, sometimes it’ll do more harm than good, or even worse, do nothing at all.

that’s where you’re at right now, sitting in spencer’s room with your legs tucked under you while he sits up at the head of the bed. the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, tie strewn somewhere in the room. you’re still fully clothed albeit in a loose t shirt and some panties. the want in his eyes is undeniable, his question still lingering in the air.

you weren’t exactly the most confident person, but was anyone really? did people really wake up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror and say, ‘wow, i look beautiful today.”? tell themselves they’re going to have a good day because they said so?

so when you’d spent your whole life living in the shadows trying to blend in and just do your job, one day an ever observant spencer reid saw you struggling to carry your coffee and your bag into the bullpen and came to your rescue before it could spill all over you. you were a mumbling mess, uttering thank you’s and i’m so sorrys and i’ll be more careful next time. but his gaze on you was unwavering, even in the face of your uneasiness, and firmly but softly told you nothing was wrong, and suggested that maybe you and him should get coffee before work to avoid this rush next time.

falling in love with him was too easy after that.

spencer never failed to make you feel cherished, loved, safe, always going above and beyond to care for your needs and wants. the trust you had in him was immense and you knew he would never steer you astray.

so sitting in front of him on his bed while he adorns a small smirk asking, no telling, you to sit on his face, made you falter a bit.

“you want me, to sit on your face?”

he nods, “yeah.”

any thought you’ve ever had vanishes from your brain, “b—but, won’t it be uncomfortable? for you?”

“not at all.”

seeing spencer be surprisingly calm about this is having the opposite effect on you, creating the unsettlement in your gut. like he’s been thinking about this for while, has wanted you at his mercy in a way you haven’t experienced before, has thought through all the facts and possibilities and ruled with absolute certainty that this was what he wanted, needed. and right now your body is betraying your mind as the heat pools between your legs.

but that brain of yours, a blessing with its vast knowledge but a curse at how easily a single thought can send you into a deep spiral, is working overtime to convince you that this isn’t really what he wants.

he can see the cogs working overtime and scoots closer to you and places a comforting hand on your thigh to rub soothing shapes with his thumb, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“nothing i-“ you stop before you can get too deep.

his eyes look at you expectantly, luring you to continue.

“what if i hurt you?”

“that is literally impossible.”

“what if i suffocate you?”

“then that would be a great way to go out.” he chuckles.

you lightly slap his leg, “stop that.”

he gestures you closer to sit curled into his side, a comforting arm smoothing you up and down. “if you really don’t want to do it that’s okay i don’t want to push you, just want you to feel good s’all.”

you ponder for a minute, “…you would tell me if it’s too much right?”

“i would,” he nods, “but i won’t need to.”

he squeezes your hand in reassurance, and you remember that spencer reid would never lie to you.

which is why you say, “okay.”

his eyes light up like a carnival, “yeah?”

you take a deep breath, “yeah.”

“come here,” cupping your cheek to bring in and kiss you.

it starts off slow, deliberate. like he wants you to know how much he appreciates you placing your trust in his possession, and how gently and carefully he’s going to take care of it.

you hike a leg over his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his lips mark you like a road map. he moves down your jaw and uses his nose to nudge your neck away, giving him better access to litter the skin with love bites.

the moans spilling from your mouth spur him on, he starts subconsciously bucking his hips up causing you to grow restless for more.

he senses this and motions for you to lift up on your knees above him so he can slide his body down flat between your legs. the warm palms of his hands rest where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.

you look down at the sight of him laid out for you, and catch his shit eating grin staring back. the dichotomy this position gives you with a sense of power to be over him like this but the vulnerability at feeling so exposed caused a swirl of emotions for you.

“hey,” he squeezes his palms laid on your ass, “if this is a lot, that’s okay.”

“no, no.i think i want this. i’m just scared.” you softly admit.

“nothing to be scared of, angel. it’s not like i haven’t eaten you out before, it’s just a different position,” his hands move closer to your core, “let me make you feel good, please.”

you stare into his eyes once more, being met with nothing but trust and lust for you. with a deep breath, you nod your head.

he smirks again, “alright sweetheart, take a seat.”

you slowly inch your body up his own, hearing him outwardly groan as your cunt came into his line of sight.

“jesus fuck, you have the prettiest pussy.”

you preen at his words once you’ve reached the position, and you hover in hesitation. he wraps his arms under and around your legs and gently pulls you down.

and he attacks you like a man starved. his tongue licking a full stripe up your cunt, letting it swirl around your clit. the feeling is so intense in this position you have to lean forward and brace yourself on the headboard.

with a gasp you whine out his name, “oh my god, fuck.” he continues to use his tongue to barrel you towards your peak, knowing exactly where to touch and lick to rile you up.

he can tell you’re still holding back, feeling the tense muscles in your upper thighs harden under his touch. with a sharp tug he pulls you to be seated fully on his face, and he lets out a deep groan that vibrates through your whole body.

you’re fully at his mercy now, held down by his large hands and his mouth working so hard to make you see stars. the pleasure is overtaking all of your senses, when you look down to meet his eyes they’re staring right back at you, reveling in your ecstasy. a languished moan leaves you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

he laps up your arousal with urgency, tongue moving in such a delicate and intricate way you would think he’s writing a love letter with it.

the coil in your gut starts to tighten and you can feel your peak coming fast, “spence…” you whine.

he hums in response, silently acknowledging what you mean. one more slow lick up and down your slit was all it took to push you overboard. the endorphins rush over you like a tsunami as you try to ride out the wave of your orgasm.

spencer doesn’t stop his motions and continues to work your overly sensitive clit, gripping your legs tighter to him as he prevents you from escaping.

“shit, oh god baby, you need to st—stop.” you brokenly moan out. you tug on his hair hard as you try to release his grip on you, and after a few minutes he takes pity and lets you go.

you let out a big and tired sigh as you flop to the side of him, one leg still draped over him as you’re both panting heavily, attempting to come down from the heat of the moment.

he smoothes out the leg over him with his hand and turns to face you, face plastered with a stupid grin and glistening with you.

“see? that wasn’t so bad.”

you scoff breathlessly, “i think maybe you’re trying to kill me.”

“maybe,” he laughs, “ but you liked it right?”

you nod bashfully, “did you…like it?”

his eyes widen, “are you kidding? you looked so hot it drove me insane. you’re always so beautiful but having you like that…i like making you feel good, it makes me feel really good, and that is a win-win.”

you smile at him and move closer to fit under his arm and into his side, your hand resting on his chest. he tightens his arm around you and whisper, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you say through hooded eyes. your hand starts trailing lower, “must have been really good for you seeing how painful this looks.” you softly say, gesturing to the aching bulge in his boxers, the dark patch stained by precum.

his breath hitches as you inch closer, “baby, no it’s okay. you don’t have to do th—“ the sentence gets cut off when your hand gives him a tentative squeeze.

“i don’t have to, but i want to. i should thank you somehow for making me feel so good,” your voice dropping an octave in lust, “will you let me show my thanks, honey?”

you stare at him with the sultriest doe eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s thoroughly convinced in that moment that you are, in fact, trying to kill him.

still a great way to go out, he thinks.

[smileysuh]

after the seminar

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.

tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k

🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.

Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you. 

Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.

As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’

“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit. 

Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends. 

Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.

Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.

You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.

“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.

“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again. 

“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again. 

You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.

“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”

“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”

Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.

He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how. 

You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.

“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.

“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.” 

Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.” 

“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.

The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”

“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”

“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”

“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”

You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.

This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh. 

“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”

“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.” 

Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing. 

“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.” 

This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”

“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”

“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”

The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest. 

What was Wonwoo interested in?

He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate. 

“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks. 

Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”

Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere. 

You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips. 

The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh. 

You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again. 

The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.

God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles. 

“Thank you,” you grin back. 

“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”

Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details. 

“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.” 

“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”

“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins. 

“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?” 

Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”

“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way. 

“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him. 

Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”

Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.

You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.

“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.

“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.

You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together. 

You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.

“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess. 

Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes. 

There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.

“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts. 

You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.

“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”

To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”

This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.

“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”

You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one. 

Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. 

“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”

“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”

“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.

“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs. 

It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin. 

In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.

He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- 

God, you want him so bad.

You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.

It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library. 

Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence. 

As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.

You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust. 

Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.

You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market. 

Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are. 

You need him so badly. 

That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup. 

You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core. 

The conversation reaches a lull,  and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”

“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.

“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm. 

He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right. 

“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug. 

Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you. 

“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.

With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies. 

Now you’re really turned on. 

Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.

As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”

“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.

“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.

“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”

“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.

Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.” 

“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.

“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.

“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”

“More than you realize.”

Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.

He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.

You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.

“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.

You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.

“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.

You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.

“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure. 

“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already. 

It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-

It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.

Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these. 

“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-

“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.” 

One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you. 

If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.

He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.

Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.

“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again. 

You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.

“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts. 

In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?

When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.

“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby. 

“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.

His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness. 

When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through. 

Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”

His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.

Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.

Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately. 

You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.

“Honey, you don’t have to-”

“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.

Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”

“Fuck-”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.

“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?” 

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”

You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit. 

You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”

The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair. 

“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.

You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words. 

Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.

You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.

“Honey-” he groans.

You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”

“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet. 

He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-

The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.

His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.

As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole. 

Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.

You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.

Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.

He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.

He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.

It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.

“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks. 

You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.

Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious. 

Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.

There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.

Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.

“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.

“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”

“Of course, just tell me when.”

“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”

Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat. 

“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-

“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.

The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy. 

He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly. 

You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.

When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”

Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”

“Yes, please.”

Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”

“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.

“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.” 

Your entire body tingles with excitement. 

While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.

“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.

“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”

“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.

“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.

Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm in love with Wonwoo what the hell

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc.  I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.

“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight. 

Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement. 

You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you. 

Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.” 

His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.

Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds. 

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.

The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“Is this…”

“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”

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[princessbrunette]

oofff flashing criminal!rafe through the divider glass when you visit him in prison 🥰🥰🥰

𐙚 ㅤ  ❦︎ ㅤ ₍ᐢᐢ₎

you promise yourself you won’t cry, and you don’t — brows etched in a permanent knit as the stoic officer leads you through to the visitation centre. you’re seated infront of a glass window and a telephone, awaiting the men in uniform to escort your boyfriend into the room.

he’d been in jail for a few weeks now, and today was finally the day you were able to visit him. it had been long and lonely without him, your communication wittled down to measly 2 minute phone calls that was likely listened in on by guards or other prisoners. you’d only hoped he had been doing okay, trying to put the horror stories you’d heard of prison out of your mind.

they bring in rafe, the man looking already more bulky from his time away, head shaved and orange uniform worn lazily, the shirt open to reveal a wife beater. you try to swallow down the urge to fully check him out, the concern getting the better of you as you snatch the phone to your ear, staring at him with wide glassy eyes. a smirk tugs at his lips at the eagerness as he raises his own to his ear.

“hi, baby.” his voice comes through drawled but clear as day.

“hi, are you okay in there? do you need me to send you anything? i— i just recently got in touch with this lawyer who said there may be a loophole —”

“yeah uh, let’s not talk about that a’ight? another time. i’m… i’m in here now, okay so— let’s just talk. normal shit.” he raises his eyebrows, to show it’s not a request but more so a demand— however at the end his expression melts into a reassuring smile. you sink a little in your seat, sucking in a deep breath.

“yeah, sorry.” you shake your head and he waves you off with a hand to show he didn’t mind, leaning back in his seat with his legs spread a little, phone still pressed to his ear. you stare at eachother in silence for a moment before he speaks again. “that dress… i haven’t seen that one.”

“its new.” you nod, looking down at yourself. he presses a few fingers over his lips, nodding slowly as he stares at the way the fabric is taught around your chest.

“mm… walkin’ round lettin’ other guys see you like that, huh?” he speaks but it’s soft, like he’s not really accusing you of anything — but old habits die hard. you frown, shaking your head anyway and he returns your gaze with his eyes hung low.

“wore it for you.”

“yeah…” he glances at the robotic officers stood stationed at the back of the booth, minding their business whilst simply doing there job. “why don’t you uh… gimme somethin’ to remember when i head back in? hm?” he cocks his head, eyes jumping down to your chest again.

“like what?” you sit forward slightly. you wanted to help him with whatever you could, you just wasn’t so sure what he was getting at.

“like… why don’t you pull that dress down for a sec? just real quick baby, i’m tryna see something.” he lowers his voice, and your eyes naturally flutter at the nasally rich-boy drawl that comes through the phones receiver. you burst into a giggle, looking around at the other visitors.

“rafe!” you sweetly scold, and whilst his lips jump up just a tad, he sits forward like he means business.

“m’not joking, okay? look if— if i could reach through this glass n’grab those fuckin’ titties right now i would, but i can not so i’m beggin’ you to work with me here. you don’t know what it’s like in here, kid — i’m a man starved, a’ight, please.” he drops his voice even more to hiss in a desperate whisper and you look around, wetting your lips as you consider making your move.

you return your gaze to him, and as your dress was strapless all you had to do was pull it down. you giggle mischievously as you do so, pushing your tits together with your hands, squeezing at them a little before yanking your dress up after you suspected the officer taking peeks. rafe grins, pleased — before shifting in his seat, adjusting his crotch area and glancing around. “mm, s’what i’m talkin’ about baby.”

“i miss you.” you’re still giggling, the smiling gently fading into a pout and he presses his lips together with a nod.

“miss you too. when i get outta here it’s fucking over for you, hope you know that. don’t expect to be walkin’ for a few days. that’s a damn promise.”

“well, i look forward to it, big bad rafe cameron.”

𐙚 ㅤ  ❦︎ ㅤ ₍ᐢᐢ₎

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[reidalert]

IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY | spencer.reid

| spencer reid & fem!reader 3.1k words

| content: a case has you feeling helpless and guilty, and no matter who consoles you, nothing helps. maybe all you need is to take a break, but what if the break is being risky with dr. reid?

| warnings: mentions of death/kidnapping, flashback to the case, reader feeling vulnerable

| author’s note: i haven’t written in a longgg time and boy does it feel good to finally get these words out of my head. it feels like a privilege to get my writing spark back & i can’t wait to share all my ideas with you. i hope you enjoy reading <3

| masterlist

feedback and comments are highly appreciated!

You have thick skin.

Well, that’s what you say to anyone who asks if you’re okay.

But after today? After this case? You’re not sure if that’s true anymore. You don’t get affected easily, not when it comes to blood and gore. You’ve homed in on keeping your reactions and feelings at bay when it comes to that… but what happened out there? It’s made you feel helpless.

You knew from the minute JJ briefed you back at the BAU that this case was something you hadn’t dealt with before. Even Agent Hotchner had asked if you wanted to sit this one out.

But you said no. You wanted to get more experience to become a better profiler and a better agent. And it came at a cost.

You feel like an outsider. Like you’re watching yourself from an outside perspective as you go through airport security. The endless whir of machines and planes landing and taking off in the background do nothing for the thoughts racing in your mind.

You’re the last to be cleared and you know the others are watching you. Their eyes burning through your skin and doing what they do best. Profiling.

You don’t meet their gaze. You know as soon as you make eye contact with one of them, they’ll be asking you questions and it’ll make you torture yourself about whether you’re fit for this job. So, you make your way through the long and endless corridors until you’re at the gate for the jet.

The dull whirring of the jet engines helps you zone out. The leather seats are a cool comfort to your heated self.

Logically, it would make sense to let them know you’re not doing okay and that you need some time to yourself. But who are you kidding? You’re a thick skinned woman who can do anything… so you’ve made them believe.

You’re sitting on the farthest seat in the jet, right in the corner away from everyone else. You can’t deal with the questions you know they’re going to ask you.

But apparently, that doesn’t stop Agent Hotchner from taking the seat opposite you.

“I know what you’re gonna say.” You break the silence but continue staring out the oval window. The city lights below turn smaller and smaller as you progress through the flight.

“And what’s that?” Agent Hotchner asks. You’re not happy he’s here, invading your little self-pity bubble, but you do appreciate the way he keeps his voice quiet.

You shrug. “That something has upset me. Or that I’m too in my head about this case. Along those lines, anyway.”

Agent Hotchner regards you for a moment. You can feel his eyes staring at the side of your face as you purposefully stay looking out the window.

Because you know the second you make eye contact with him, he’ll see what’s going through your head. And he can’t.

“I gathered something was wrong.” His voice is low, a nice baritone that doesn't annoy you. “I know when someone in my team is different. And you’re different.”

You fight back the scoff that’s threatening to spill. “And what is that supposed to mean, Agent Hotchner?”

“Just…” he sighs. You’re very similar to Spencer Reid; in a way that you both struggle to admit when you need help. “If something is bothering you, I am here to listen.”

“Who says something is bothering me?” You kind of regret asking that question as you know damn well he’s about to go into an explanation of how he can see you’re upset.

He sits up a little straighter, hands clasped over his crossed knees. “You’re avoiding eye contact with me, your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the arm rests—”

“That’s nothing—”

“You’re interrupting me. You don’t like being analysed as it makes you vulnerable. You haven’t eaten anything in the past,” Agent Hotchner checks his watch. “Six hours. Your stomach is warring against your emotions and you don’t like that. You’re sitting in a corner trying to push yourself away from other people.”

“Okay.” You bite out, now finally giving in to looking him dead in the eyes. “You’re a great profiler. No need to showboat.”

“I’m not showboating.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure seems like it.”

A minute or two pass in silence. Agent Hotchner is still staring at you and you feel incredibly small under his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” He fixes his shirt cuffs, acting so nonchalant as if he didn’t just profile one of his team members.

You grit your teeth. “Fine. Today messed with my head. That case was… it was wrong. So wrong that I can’t stop thinking about how I could have helped that family.”

Agent Hotchner leans forward, gently placing his hand upon your own on the arm rest. You feel your grip loosen and you fight back a grimace at how cold his hand feels against your warm one. “It’s not your fault. We all know we could have done something different out there, but sometimes the unsub takes a surprise route. Things like this happen and it’s unfortunate, but don’t blame yourself.”

You shrug again, avoiding eye contact once again. “Yeah.”

He stands, pulling his suit jacket to fit more comfortably. “If you need to talk to someone, come to my office.”

You only offer a silent nod in answer.

“Oh, and Agent L/N? Stop calling me Agent Hotchner, Hotch is just fine.” He offers a small smile and you shake your head, going back to staring out the window until your eyes feel too heavy to keep open.

“Why is there so much paperwork?” Your voice comes out all agitated as you rifle through a stupid amount of folders and loose paper.

Emily peeks over the cubicle dividing and raises an eyebrow. “You okay there?”

You sigh, slumping down onto your desk chair, spinning until you’re facing her side of the cubicle. “Do I sound okay to you? Who in their right mind decided to give me the goddamn paperwork for that goddamned case?” You glance around the wide room, trying to find JJ; this has to be her doing.

Emily purses her lips, “Doing paperwork isn’t that bad, Y/N. I mean, I guess there’s a lot but it’ll make the day go by quicker.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff, feeling yourself grow more annoyed by the minute. You know you need to get yourself in check, but the past 24 hours have ridden you like the Grim Reaper is taking jockey lessons in Hell.

“What’s got Little Miss Thick Skin so angry today?” Derek Morgan walks up to your desk, a hot mug of coffee in his hand. A brief thought had you biting your lip— it’d be wrong to spill it on him.

“Don’t start, please.” You rest your elbows on your desk, hands holding either side of your face as you stare at the paperwork. The names of the family you couldn’t save stare right back at you. Your stomach drops and you’re not sure how long you can stay in this office.

“Hey,” Derek places his mug on your desk before crouching down to your eye level. “What’s wrong, girl? If you don’t want to do the paperwork, I can take it off your hands. No big deal.”

You shake your head, “Don’t bother. I’m fine.”

Derek watches your face and you turn your head to look at him. “If you start profiling me, Morgan, I swear to God that coffee mug will end up in a place you really don’t want it.”

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, girl. Just tryna help ya out.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need help. I’m fine.” You scoot your desk chair closer and grab the closest pen, tapping it against the top of your desk to distract you from the fact you have to relive this case just a day later.

You don’t catch it, but Derek and Emily share a knowing look. They’ve seen this before. It’s not hard to notice someone you spend days on end with is struggling.

Derek grabs his mug and pats you on the shoulder. Emily sinks back into her cubicle and makes sure to keep an eye on during the day. If she finds you with smoke coming out of your ears, she’ll go get the fire extinguisher.

Your hand cramps as you write your final notes. The computer screen has turned too bright for your eyes and a headache begins to form behind your eyes. It’s been a long day.

Clicking the pen closed, you lean back against your chair with a deep sigh. You close your eyes just to rest them for a brief moment and scenes from yesterday plague you.

It’s like you can’t escape.

Your heart rate picks up speed. You’re not sure how it turned into a game of cat and mouse, but you’re adamant on putting a stop to it.

“What does he think he’s doing?” You’re standing with your palms pressed against a conference table in a police station in Washington. The projector casts a live shot of the news— a helicopter is chasing after the unsub in a car. The family you’re trying to protect is with him.

“He’s trying to flee.” Agent Rossi says, so matter of factly that it has you turning your attention to him instead.

You squint at him. “You saw this coming, didn’t you?”

He gestures to the screen. “You didn’t?”

“No, I did not.” You grit your teeth, moving so you’re now standing up straight. “I predicted he’d do something out of the blue. We all did. But we didn’t know he was going to kidnap them. That wasn’t part of his game.”

Rossi shrugs, “I’ve been in this job longer than you have, kiddo. It takes experience to know something like this. Don’t blame yourself.”

“What?” You let out a disbelieving scoff. “Listen here old man—”

“That’s enough.” Agent Hotchner cuts through your words, ending your little spat with Rossi. “We’re all here to do a job. So let’s do it.”

Faint footsteps sound behind you. You’re not sure who’s still in the office, but considering how late it is, there’s only a few people that come to mind.

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” That all too recognisable voice makes your heart swoop. Spencer appears in your line of vision, his man-bag crossed over his torso. He looks ready to leave. “It’s nearly 7PM.”

“Oh.” You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. You didn’t realise that you were doing the paperwork for the Washington case for nearly 10 hours. “Guess I lost track of time.”

Spencer regards you for a minute. “Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You offer a weak smile, not trying to be bitchy to him like you were to the others earlier. You make a mental note to apologise to them tomorrow.

“It’s just— nevermind.” He shakes his head.

Your brows furrow, “No, what is it?”

“Ever since we got on that plane yesterday, you’ve been hostile.” Spencer rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know you don’t like to be profiled, I don’t either, but I know something is wrong.”

You twist in your chair, facing your computer screen with your hands hovering over the keyboard. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to figure it out on your own.

“Y/N?” Spencer says your name and you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes all sparkly, his cheeks smooth, his lips… perfect.

You blink slowly. Your head isn’t in the right place, but your heart (and hormones) are.

You internally say fuck it and reach for the strap of his man-bag to pull him down to your level. Your breaths mingle and your eyes dart in a triangle from one eye to his lips to his other eye. And lo and behold, the triangle method actually works because Spencer leans in and you feel his lips ghost over your own.

And nothing.

He just stays in that position. Hunched down in your grip, lips mere millimetres away from your own and he doesn’t finish the job.

You breathe in a deep sigh, your senses being filled with his scent. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

“I— I think it’s because I know you’re not yourself. It feels wrong.” Spencer's breath is minty as it fans over your cheeks and neck. You want to say something snarky, but you know he’s right. “I do want to kiss you, though. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

You lean back a little, your eyes staring into his pretty brown ones. You don’t see a sign of a lie and your heart skips a beat. “Would it help if I admitted what’s going on? Would you kiss me then?” God, are you really that desperate to get kissed by Spencer Reid? Yes. Yes you are.

Spencer lowers into a crouch, one hand grips the armrest of your desk chair, whilst the other splays across your knee with a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’ll help me. Talk to me. Let me inside your pretty head.”

You reach out for his tie, fiddling with it to help your nerves. “You know I don’t like talking about how I feel, but this is something I can’t keep to myself anymore.”

Spencer nods, his hand on your knee giving you another squeeze. But this time in a reassuring way. That’s your go ahead sign to lay it all down.

“That case we did. The family where we couldn’t save them, where I couldn’t save them, keeps replaying in my head and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” You take a breath, your fingers still playing with his tie. “If we got there sooner, I know we could have stopped him from hurting them. From killing them. I feel like if I did or said something right or helpful, I could’ve saved them. I hate feeling like this because I know it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t help but feel guilty.”

Spencer stays quiet, letting your words sink in. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault.”

You sigh, dropping his tie and moving your attention to his face. To his lips.

“I wish I could go back in time and help.” You admit, feeling a small weight lift from your shoulders.

“I wish for that, too.” Spencer admits as well. Both of you find comfort in knowing you feel the same. It makes feeling like this just the little bit easier to deal with. “Thank you for sharing how you feel.”

You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for not dismissing me.”

“I could never dismiss you.” Spencer’s voice is soft and warm. His fingers slowly trail up and down your calf, sending a shiver through your body. “Would you like that kiss now?” The smirk on his lips has your stomach flipping and you want nothing more than for his lips to be on yours.

“I would very much like that kiss now.” You smile at him, leaning in and already feeling your body succumb to him. When your lips meet, you sigh. You’ve missed being able to be physical with him; it’s hard trying to stay colleagues when all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms.

Spencer lets his hands travel— up your thighs, round your back, cheekily up the hem of your dress. You moan lightly into his mouth and he swallows it.

Your hands grab for his collar to deepen the kiss. “More.” You mumble against his lips and he complies. Spencer bites your bottom lip to elicit a gasp from you so he can dive his tongue down your throat with ease.

You feel yourself involuntarily squeezing your thighs to quell the ache forming between your legs. God, you’d do anything to take him home with you right now.

Before you get a chance to start undoing his tie, a loud and clear cough comes from your right.

You stop moving but Spencer keeps going. Trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you now get a perfect view of Hotch standing outside his office with his arms crossed. You can’t make out what his face is portraying.

“Spence.” You tug on his collar, but he thinks you want him to go further. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up the column of your neck and you have to fight back a whimper.

You’d die on the spot if you let Aaron Hotchner hear you moaning.

“No. Spencer.” This time you push at his shoulders and the look he gives you makes you feel bad. But if you let him carry on, both of you would never be able to be in Hotch’s presence. Ever.

“Are you okay?” Spencer brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You shake your head, your fingers quickly straightening out Spencer's tie. “I loved it. You were good, but, um…” your eyes drift off to where Hotch is still standing.

It’s as if Spencer was zapped by lightning. He shoots back away from you, and somehow manages to hit every piece of furniture around him. You want to laugh but this situation doesn’t call for laughing. You’ve been caught by your boss making out in the middle of the BAU.

“Reid, L/N. Care to explain?” Hotch moves slowly down the stairs, his aura too strong for you to look him in the eyes right now.

You twiddle your thumbs. “He was just helping me finish this file report from the case yesterday.”

Hotch looks at Spencer, knowing that he’ll blab the truth. “She was upset about not being able to save them and I wanted to help ease her pain and—”

“That’s enough.” Hotch raises a hand. “Since it’s past working hours, I’ll make a one time allowance for this behaviour.”

You have a big sigh of relief and Spencer lets out an audible groan of embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t.” Hotch checks his watch and frowns. “I’m late for something. Finish that report and I’ll see you both tomorrow. Behaving correctly.”

You nod your head and Spencer keeps his head down staring at the floor. You watch Hotch leave the office and you finally let out your cringing grimace. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was here. I thought he left already.”

“I can’t be mad. I got to kiss the prettiest girl in here.”

“Shut up.”

Copyright credit to @reidalert as of 2024-present.

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Series Part 5- MYG

 Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.

Paring: Yoongi/Reader (Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung are mentioned)

Rating: M/18+

Word Count: 5k

Tags: smut, fingering, eating pussy, soft Yoongi, dom Yoongi, hand jobs, cum eating, dirty talk.

Authors Note: My sweet Yoongi.

In case you missed it

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Yoongi knew he should have changed the code on his door ages ago.

Maybe he would actually get work done if he did.

His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled his headphones tighter against his ears to block out the sound of his bandmates talking.

His shoulders were starting to hurt from being so slouched over a computer desk his eyes were dry and his patience was thin

So very thin.

Yoongi knew what his strengths were, making music was one of them but lately he felt as if he had just hit a wall and could not break through it. He was stuck, musically constipated as Hobi said, which caused everyone to break out into giggles and Yoongi to shoot Hobi a very lewd gesture causing everyone to burst into laughs again

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment and tried his best to get in a happy calm mindset but he could still hear Taehyung and Namjoon teasing each other in the background and Jin munching away on something.

Yoongi had enough and he ripped his headphones and turned the chair around.

“Alright everyone out! You all are annoying and I can’t concentrate. I’m changing the passcode tomorrow so out. Now.” He demands as Namjoon and Tae stare at him in shock and Jin just kept eating.

“We aren’t even doing anything! You had your headphones in the whole time!” Tae argues as he shoots Yoongi his signature pout which usually works, but not today.

“I could still hear you and Namjoon chatting. Out! Seriously I can’t concentrate. And Jin stop eating and getting crumbs everywhere. Honestly” Yoongi grumbles as he crosses his arms and stares them all down.

“Yoongi you spend all your time here we feel like we haven’t seen you except at dance practice. We wanted to hang out with you.” Namjoon says standing up and coming to sit in the chair next to Yoongi, concern written all over his face.

Yoongi let out a sigh, he didn’t mean to make Namjoon concerned, he had enough to worry about as their leader.

“Yeah, Yoongi I just wanted to hang out with my favorite Hyung.” Tae pouts as Yoongi shoots him a small smile.

“Rude!” Jin calls out kicking Taehyung’s shin and Namjoon puts a hand over his heart fake offended.

“Laying it on thick to stay. Nice try but no. Out all of you.” Yoongi says as Taehyung and Jin grumble but gather their things.

“I’ll stay and help you with the song,” Namjoon responds as he grabs the spare headphones out of the desk drawer and scoots closer.

“Thank you Namjoon. Finally some help.” Yoongi complains as the other two roll their eyes.

“Wow, Yoongi you seem stressed…” Taehyung starts with a smirk and Yoongi knows where he is going with this.

He hasn’t forgotten the proposition Taehyung made to them a month and a half prior. He had just been so busy he hadn’t thought about it.

Well okay, he has thought about it but it’s usually after a long studio session or dance session very late at night when it would be rude to call upon a stranger, so Yoongi would let his hand wrap around his cock and imagine it was someone else. Those were the nights he slept the best.

“Yeah, Yoongi you might want to do something about that. If only there was someone to help.” Jin teased as they both refused to leave standing by the door with matching smirks.

“Did I not tell you to get out?” Yoongi shoots back as he stares them down giving them death glares.

“Okay, guys enough. We are all stressed out let’s not make it worse.” Namjoon says diplomatically as Yoongi feels his shoulders slump again.

“You don’t have to be you know. I gave you a way out…an option.” Taehyung reminds them with a wave of his cell phone which has Jin cracking up beside him.

“Enough. Out.” Yoongi demands as he points to the door.

Taehyung giggles and opens the door to leave but Jin doesn’t leave just yet, his hand hovering on the door as he adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“Ah, Namjoon I forgot to thank you for going to that exhibit and ditching me for dinner. I had a fantastic night. You really missed out".” He says teasingly with a wink as Namjoon’s eyes go wide.

Taeyhung is hunched over in the hallway cackling like a maniac and Yoongi is very close to standing up and slamming the door in their faces.

“Jin…seriously,” Namjoon whines with disapproval in his voice.

When Taehyung first brought the idea forward it was obvious that Namjoon disapproved. He reminded them they were idols and they needed to be careful and this was a huge risk. Taehyung reminded them he had been with Y/N for months and nothing had happened and his career was still intact, leaving it open for each of them to decide individually.

It seems not everyone shared Namjoon’s worry.

“And just so you know, my face is still handsome when I’m fucking someone against a mirror.” Jin finishes with a satisfied smirk as Yoongi finally has enough and stands up to slam the door in his so-called handsome face.

Taehyung and Jin run down the hallway cacking like hyenas before Yoongi can catch them and when he does slam the door it’s not as satisfying.

He runs a hand down his tired face and marches back to his computer where Namjoon is still seated in shock.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks as he fiddles around to pull up the song he had been stuck on for the past couple of days, sincerely hoping Namjoon could help him or he might scrap the whole thing out of frustration.

“Yeah, I just… they went against my warning? The maknaes I understand... they are horny little monsters but Jin? He is the oldest and supposed to be responsible? What if something happens?” Namjoon frets.

“I’m sure it will be okay. Taehyung said he has been with Y/N for a while and nothing has happened. I mean Jin was the one to point her out to him in the first place…responsible my ass. Either way, it already has happened and time machines don’t exist. We have enough to worry about with this tour.” Yoongi points out as Namjoon fiddles in his seat.

“I’m calling a meeting,” Namjoon says pulling out his phone.

Yoongi stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more. We should just leave it.” Yoongi says as Namjoon grumbles and puts his phone in his pocket.

“Let’s just focus on the song okay? Please? Or do I have to kick you out too?” Yoongi half jokes as he grabs his discarded headphones.

“Sorry, Hyung just…stressed out,” Namjoon admits as Yoongi nods and puts the headphones over his messy hair as they both get to work.

The thing about someone warning you not to do something…

It really does make you want to do it more.

This was one of those times Yoongi hated being right.

He and Namjoon worked on the song for a total of two hours and Namjoon did help him get over his creative block.

It was a good studio session and Yoongi was grateful for his friend.

However, Namjoon had plans with some friends at his house, and even though he offered an invite to Yoongi multiple times Yoongi declined.

He wanted to stay and work on the music some more despite Namjoon telling him he needed rest and to eat something.

“I’m going to text you every hour Yoongi and if you are not out of this studio by eleven I’m dragging you out,” Namjoon warns as he throws his helmet over his head and waves as he leaves.

The problem is that Yoongi had all these ideas when Namjoon was around. He felt the creative juices flowing.

Now that Namjoon is gone and he is alone everything feels wrong.

His sweater is too hot, his hair tickles his face, his eyes burn from staring at a screen for too long, his shoulders hurt, he feels itchy and irritable and he is hard, so painfully hard in his track pants it’s annoying him further.

“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more.”

Yoongi hates being right.

But since Jin mentioned it Yoongi has not been able to stop thinking about it. It had been ages since he had something to satisfy him other than his right hand and the thought was tempting. How amazing it would feel to slide into a tight wet pussy, how good it would feel to have someone moaning his name, taking his cock, taking care of him.

He can hear Namjoon’s panic in the back of his mind. What if something does go wrong?

However, his skin is prickling with heat and his stomach is swooping with need and just at the thought of fucking someone his cock is twitching and leaking in his track pants making his skin itch some more.

Maybe Taehyung was onto something after all.

Fuck it.

Yoongi grabs his phone from his desk with one hand and palms the head of his cock with the other. He wants to relieve at least some tension so he doesn’t blow his load the second he gets to you.

With his free hand, he types out a message.

And lucky for him it doesn’t take long for you to respond.

By the time you hear the knocking on the door, you have just gotten the food all laid on the table.

You smirk to yourself as you smooth down your shirt and open the door to see Min Yoongi standing there.

He shoots you a shy timid smile as you lead him in and right to the kitchen.

His eyes widen and you try not to laugh.

“What’s all this?” He asks blinking slowly as he takes in the dimmed lights and the takeout containers.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this.” He says softly as you pour him a glass of water and gesture for him to sit down at the table.

“I didn’t do this. Taehyung did. Well I mean… he texted me and gave me the heads up you might reach out. When I told him you did he ordered all this food for us and said you were stuck in the studio today and probably didn’t eat. He got all your favorites… or at least that’s what he told me” You admit as you sit across from Yoongi and his eyes soften.

“He was being a menace today and I had to kick him and Jin out of my studio he really knows how to suck up,” Yoongi explains as you start to pile his plate high and he runs a hand through his hair.

“Yup, that sounds like Taehyung.” You tease as you give him his plate and work on making your own.

You pile on a little bit of everything and push your chair closer to Yoongi as you both eat.

Conversation flows freely and you find Yoongi very easy to talk to. He tells you a little bit about his day and asks you about yours.

The whole thing is very domestic for two people who just met twenty minutes ago.

Once dinner is finished you pack everything up and leave it in the fridge reminding yourself to make Yoongi take it home with him.

You turn around to see Yoongi who is sitting in the chair, arms crossed over his stomach and trying his best to keep his eyes open.

He just looks so exhausted.

“Come on Yoongi time for sleep.” You coo as his eyes slowly flutter open and a pink blush paints his cheeks.

“But- I didn’t come here just to eat and sleep, I wanna fuck you.” He says innocently as you bite back a smile and help him out of his chair.

He loops an arm around you and buries his face into your neck as you guide him to your bedroom and help him flop down on the bed.

“How about we sleep first, baby? You look two seconds away from passing out.” You say to him.

“I’m fine I promise.” He says pouting out his lower lip looking as cute as ever.

“Yoongi how about we take a little nap at least? You can’t keep your eyes open.” You push, and much to your surprise he doesn’t argue and instead climbs up the bed.

You giggle when he throws back the smallest corner of the comforter to slip under and once he gets himself situated he makes grabby hands towards you.

You throw back the covers and climb under so you are the little spoon and immediately Yoongi wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to his body so your back is pushed up against his chest and his nose is pressed into your hair.

“Thank you Y/N. m’ sorry this probably isn’t what you expected. And I don’t usually cuddle with people I don’t know…m’ just so tired.” Yoongi admits in a small voice as you push yourself closer to him and rub your hands up and down his arms.

“Yoongi let me take care of you, you are clearly exhausted from working so hard Let’s both get some rest okay?” You say softly as you bring his hand up to kiss the back of it causing him to push himself closer to you.

You were unsure how long you had slept for, all you knew was Yoongi’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and his cock was hard and pressing into your backside.

You craned your neck to look out your window seeing the sky dark and littered with stars. You both must have slept for at least a couple of hours.

You put your head back on the pillow and were about to doze off again when Yoongi let out a breathy whimper against your back and ground his cock harder into your butt. His hands tightened around you and you could hear the soft pants and whines that were spilling from his mouth as you smiled.

His moans were getting more high-pitched as he ground harder into you and your hand came around to cup at his bulge but you stopped yourself.

You never went over rules or anything with Yoongi because after you ate you both fell into a food coma-type sleep.

You weren’t sure if it was okay to touch him and you didn’t want to do it without his permission.

The only thing you could do was wake him up and just as you were about to do so you felt something else against your backside.

A pulsing vibration from a phone which meant someone was calling him.

You shook his arm to wake him and looked over your shoulder to see his eyes blearily opening as his phone continued to vibrate against your hip.

“Mm, what time is it?” He asked voice husky with sleep which made your stomach swoop, his sleepy voice was so sexy.

“Yoongi your-” You said as he suddenly realized and his eyes nearly popped open as he shoved his hard cock away from your backside and started apologizing profusely.

“No not that! I think someone is calling you. Your phone!” You say as he sits up still slightly disoriented as the vibrating stops.

But just as it stops it starts again and Yoongi leans back to fish his phone from his pocket frowning when he sees the screen.

“Shit, it’s Namjoon.” He says shooting you a look.

“I can leave if you need some privacy.” You say already turning to get out of bed, but Yoongi stops you with a strong hand on your thigh as he stares you down.

“Stay. This will be quick.” He says taking the call and holding the phone up to his ear as you slip back under the blankets.

“Hello?” Yoongi says as you fiddle with the blanket and try to make yourself look busy. Even though Yoongi wanted you to stay you still felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have

You can faintly hear Namjoons worried voice over the phone. How he tried to text Yoongi multiple times and got no response.

You are about to stand up and leave despite Yoongi’s wishes when his long fingers circle your wrist and you gasp and stare at him in shock when he brings it to his hard cock and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you sure?” You whisper not wanting to be picked up by Namjoon on the other line as he nods and you slowly start to apply pressure to his hard cock through the thin material of his track pants.

“Mhmm. I know Joon. Mhmm.” Yoongi drawls as Namjoon continues to talk and you continue to stroke his cock through his pants watching as his hips rut up into your hand and how his eyes are fluttering with every pass of your palm.

Without hesitation, you dip your fingers into his waistband and boxers and circle the base of his cock, a choked groan leaving his lips as you hear Namjoon stop his talking, and you eye Yoongi.

“Yeah I’m okay Namjoon, sorry I just woke up from a nap.” Yoongi admits as he mouths the word “move” to you.

You dance your fingers along his painfully hard shaft and when you reach the head of his cock you can feel him dripping all over your fingers.

You gather as much of it as you can before taking your hand out of his pants and holding your fingers up to his face so he can see for himself.

His eyes widen when you take your fingers and pop them in your mouth, licking and sucking at the juices.

“Namjoon listen I have to-go I gotta go,” Yoongi says as you can hear the muffled noises of Namjoon protesting on the other line.

“Yoongi where did you nap?” You can hear Namjoon ask as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck as he throws his head back and you hear a small thump from when it hits the headboard.

“Nam-J-oon I have to go-seriously,” Yoongi says voice cracking as you suck on his neck letting your tongue flick over his warm flesh.

“Min Yoongi you better not be doing what I think you're doing!” You hear Namjoon warn.

You lick a bold stripe up his neck from collarbone to earlobe as Yoongi hangs up on his friend and throws his phone across the room.

His hands are tight on your hips as you position yourself so you are straddling him, pushing your wet core into his throbbing cock as he grabs you and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

His lips are soft as they push into yours. His hands stay tight on your hips and your heart is racing in your chest when he wastes no time slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The kiss is heated and laced with heat and passion that it makes your head spin. He shifts his hips to push his hard cock into you and you whine against him as your core throbs with need.

“Need you. Fuck need you so bad. I’ve been hard all day thinking about this.” He mutters against your lips as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head.

You can faintly hear his phone vibrating on the floor and you pull back to stare at him.

“Namjoon again?” You ask as Yoongi doesn’t seem too bothered, he is preoccupied with exploring your body with his tongue and taking off your bra.

“Yoongi your phone.” You cry out when he finally gets the bra off and his lips attach to your nipple sucking harshly causing moans to spill from your mouth and your eyes to close as your hands tangle in his hair.

“Don’t give a shit about Namjoon right now. Need you so fucking bad. Let him break down the door it’s not gonna stop me from fucking you.” Yoongi growls as he thrusts his cock up against you again and you whine.

You rake your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he stares up at you, lips still wrapped around your nipple and a grin on his face.

“Woke up so fucking hard, wish you didn’t wear pants so I could have just slipped it right in.” He admits as you groan and grind your wet pussy down on his lap.

“Gonna soak my pants, baby. Gotta take these off.” He says as he helps you off of him and crawls down the bed so he is between your legs.

Your eyes widen in shock when he pulls your pants down harshly and throws them on the floor, muffling the sound of his still-vibrating phone even more.

“You sure you don’t want to answer your phone?” You ask as Yoongi kisses up and down your legs, stealing your breath from your lungs.

“And miss the chance of eating you out to get yelled at by Namjoon. Not a fucking chance.” He growls as he slowly makes his way to your core.

He takes his sweet time kissing up your thighs as you moan and thrash on the bed. Your body is on fire with need and you feel your core throb with every swipe of his tongue on your legs and thighs.

“Yoongi… please.” You cry out as you prop yourself up on pillows to get a better view of him between your legs.

“Please what? Use your words” Yoongi demands looking smug between your legs as his fingers run along your upper thighs.

“Touch me.” You whisper holding your breath in anticipation.

“I am touching you love.” He teases.

“Min Yoongi I swear to god. Please.” You cry out as he finally dips his finger into your folds and collects your wetness bringing it up to your clit and making your head hit the pillow and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck baby your soaking my fingers. Needy little thing aren’t you? Did the other boys touch you or was it all just talk?” He hums as he rubs small slow circles on your clit causing you to arch your back.

“Needy? You were the one grinding your cock into me earlier.” You tease as he removes his fingers and gives you a hard stare.

“I can stop you know.” He teases back with a mischievous smile as you whine and push your hips up, desperate to get him back to where you need him most.

“That’s what I thought.” He muttered as he lay himself down on the bed and your eyes widened as he brought his face closer to your dipping center.

“Fuck Yoongi.” You moan as he flattens his tongue against your slit and licks it all up.

You cry out and fist the sheets desperate to hold onto something and to ground yourself as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your clit causing you to cry out.

Yoongi works you with your tongue until you are a screaming sobbing mess under him. You feel your orgasm fast approaching and he must feel it too as he shoves two fingers deep inside of you and begin to scissor them, stretching you out as he licks and sucks at your clit.

Right when he curls his fingers deep inside you your body lets go and you arch up from the bed, his name falling like a prayer from your lips as your pussy clamps around his digits and you cum all over them and all over him as his tongue is still buried between your legs and his hair is tickling your thighs.

You come down and slump on the bed breathing heavily as you desperately try to catch your breath. You watch as Yoongi gently closes your legs and crawls up the bed towards you, his eyes sparkling as he shoves his pants and boxers down to free his hard, leaking cock. He throws them somewhere in the room as you giggle.

“So much better holy shit almost came in my pants tasting you.” He admits as his hand circles his cock and he strokes it slowly, trying to ease some of the built-up tension as you watch.

Yoongi’s skilled hand strokes and tugs at his cock, he takes his time with it letting out soft whines and moans with every pass of his fingers against the aching shaft.

“Fuck Yoongi, so hot.” You whimper as you close your thighs tightly trying to ease some of the ache between them.

Yoongi’s eyes travel down your body as he smirks when he sees your thighs clenching.

“One orgasm isn’t enough?” He asks releasing his cock and letting it smack against his stomach.

He crawls on top of you and uses his hands to spread your legs.

Your breath hitches when he leans down to press a soft slow kiss to your mouth and you reach up to tangle your hands into his sweaty hair.

“Hold them open for me. Let me grab a condom.” He whispers as he shimmies down the bed to grab his pants and digs through the pile of clothes to find his discarded phone.

His mouth draws up into a smirk when he checks the screen.

“Five missed calls from Namjoon. World record I think.” He teases as he grabs a condom from his wallet and throws his phone back down on the pile.

He takes his time rolling the condom on his hard length and you roll over to flick on the bedroom lamp casting the room in a warm glow.

"Is everything okay with Namjoon?” You ask as Yoongi crawls on the bed and positions his cock at your entrance.

“Yeah, he’s just… You know he’s our leader and he is the responsible one out of us. He feels like what we are doing isn’t the most responsible thing and is just worried.” Yoongi admits as he pushes his hair back from his face and stares you down.

“Does he know I signed a NDA contract? I legally can’t say anything…at all… ever?” You ask as Yoongi slides his cock head against your entrance coating it in your juices.

“Yeah, Taehyung told us that part it’s just… Namjoon you know. He worries a lot.” Yoongi admits with a fond look on his face.

“Sounds like he’s stressed out.” You tease as Yoongi lets out a laugh and slowly pushes his cock head inside.

The stretch is delicious and you open your legs wider to welcome him. He takes his time inching inside of you until he is fully sheathed and he pushes his forehead against yours and you both breathe heavily.

“Jin and Taehyung joked about that this morning. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I’m here. And fuck was it a great decision. You’re so tight for me darling.” He mumbles as he presses soft kisses against your temple.

“Did you get hard in the studio? Thinking about me? Thinking about this?” You purr as Yoongi closes his eyes and shifts his hips rocking into you gently.

“You have no idea. Was fine when I was working on the song, the second Namjoon left. Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Felt like I was in heat. Needed this soaked pussy so bad.” Yoongi growls as you feel his cock twitch inside of you and you moan.

“Please tell me I can move. Please.” Yoongi begs and when you nod he grins wickedly down at you.

Yoongi pulls his cock most of the way out and grabs your legs. Before you can process it he has your legs thrown over his shoulder and starts to pound into you harshly.

You grip the blankets for support as Yoongi’s hard cock drags against your walls. He is fucking you with so much enthusiasm you feel like you might go right through the headboard.

Yoongi is moaning above you and is hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you crying out his name and gripping the sheets harder.

“Yoongi fuck, please. F-fuck feels so good.” You cry out as he reaches down to play with your clit, his skilled fingers rubbing it in a way that has your orgasm fast approaching.

“Baby girl you feel so good around me, pussy so good I want to scream.” He growls as he shifts his hips and slams into you harder causing your pussy to clench around him.

“Gonna cum princess, gonna cream my cock and make a mess for me,” Yoongi says as you nod frantically, your whole body tensing as you feel your high fast approaching.

“Yoongi right there fuck! Please!” You beg, not even sure what you are begging for.

Your orgasm rips through your body as you arch up from the bed and cry out his name. Your pussy clamps tightly against his cock as Yoongi bends forward to kiss you and you feel his cock twitch and empty into the condom, he can hardly thrust into you as you continue to ride out your high.

“so so good baby. You did so good.” he praises as his lips find yours and he gives you soft slow kisses, his hair falls over his face to tickle your cheeks and you grab at his shoulders desperate to feel more of him

Once you both come down Yoongi pulls out and throws the condom away. He positions himself down on the bed beside you. His hands come to scrape his hair away from his face as he stares at you with a dopey grin.

You lean in and press a small kiss to his cheek as you get up to get a towel and use the washroom.

Once you get yourself cleaned up you head back to the bedroom and let out a soft giggle. Yoongi is spread out on the bed and fast asleep. One hand is resting on his stomach and his hair is a mess and his lips are parted as he softly snores.

You inch over to the bed and use your warm washcloth to wipe around his soft cock, careful not to wake him.

Once finished you throw the covers over his body and grab a big tee shirt to sleep in as you curl up next to him.

His arms wrap around you and he buries his face in your hair. You hear a content sigh leave his lips.

Right as you are about to doze off you hear a phone vibrating again and you bite back a laugh as you snuggle into the covers and fall asleep.

TAGLIST

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

@madebyjungkookie

@iammeandmeisiam

@allie-is-a-panda

[dazed--xx]

SKZ!Reactions: It Was All a Bet II (Maknae Line)

Part 1 Hyung Line Masterlist

Jisung:

“No.”

You growl as Jisung stood in front of you, a guilty pout on his lips. “But Babe…. —nope. Fix that, like now.” You cut him off. His head drops as he stares at the ground. “Y/N, I understand you’re upset b-but I genuinely care about you. I really want to talk about this. I’m truly so sorry.” He whimpers as he grips your hand lifting it slightly to his chest. You stare at him in disbelief. It hadn’t even been an hour since he confessed the truth. Has he no shame? You wonder to yourself. You pull your hand away “I’m sorry but are you like, dumb? Did you forget what you told me?” You snap. Jisung looks up at you with shock and guilt on his features. “N-No…” He stammers panicked. “B-But, please l-lets talk about this.” He pleads. Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Excuse me?” You snort. “If you haven’t realized, our conversations ended when I told you to go to hell. Cause I mean it. Go to hell Han Jisung. Honestly, any of you that made the bet can go to hell. Was it the guys?” He nods regret evident in his eyes, shame written all over his face. “I’m so sorry….” He whispers, his voice breaking as his eyes well up with tears.

 “What does that do for me?”

He looks at you quizzically, “W-what do you mean?”

“You being sorry doesn’t go back in time and make you not tell me that. It doesn’t change you making the bet in the first place, honestly you saying that right now does nothing but clear your own conscious but of course why am I not surprised? You seem to keep doing things that only benefit you anyway.” He shakes his head rapidly. “No…. Y/N, no…. you’re wrong.—I am? Cause from where I’m standing you confessed to being a disgusting pig and that your friends are disgusting pigs who view women as just simple toys to mess around with as you please, and then after such confession you track me down to my job; ask my manager for me to talk to you for a second then have the nerve to apologize and cry like you deserve anything from me?” You cut him off with a monotonous tone. A look of horror paints his features, his entire demeanor looks crushed as his head hangs low. “At least I said something, I could have never said anything, you could have found out from someone else….” He murmurs, his frustration growing evident. You scoff “Oh?! I’m sorry, of course, you confessed to being crap so I should humor you right?” Jisung looks at you, you notice his jaw clenching in frustration. “Dammit why are you being like this? I’m sorry! I’ve never regretted anything more in my life please just—just talk to me about this…” He snaps before he sighs, letting all his anger leave his body with the sigh. “…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made such a disgusting bet, no matter who it was, but I don’t regret being with you. I don’t regret meeting you; I don’t regret going out with you, I don’t regret loving you. I don’t want to lose you.” He breathed.

 You stare at him blankly. “Again, that does nothing for me. I understand you regret your actions and cool or whatever, but that doesn’t change the fact that you used me. You slept with me……for money…. like a prostitute…which is so utterly degrading. Also, I will point out that again I am at work, so I don’t have time to entertain my ex that I literally broke up with earlier today.” You counter. Jisung sighs in defeat “There’s nothing I could do to change your mind? Please Y/N, I love you…. I-I don’t want to break up. I’m really sorry…I couldn’t be sorrier. Please don’t do this…” He pleads apologetically. You shake your head lifting your hand “You can’t change someone’s mind about your betrayal. You still betrayed them; you haven’t even given me time to process what you did. Look I need time, but I hope it was worth it.” You state as you turn away from him and walk back into your job. Jisung stares at the door you just went through.

“How could it have been worth it when it cost me everything?”

Felix:

“You have to talk to me at some point, we’re literally on tour together for the next 6 months….” Felix mumbles as you shove past him. You scoff at him not saying anything as you hand Changbin a water bottle as he requested and make your way back toward your members. Noticing you have a tail, you turn and glare at Felix, who freezes in his place with a look of surprise on his face. “I know you’re trying to intimidate me, but you look way too cute for me to be able to be fearful right now…” He flirts sweetly as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “…Please just talk to me, I miss hearing your beautiful voice.” He whispers apologetically as he leans in close “Did you make a bet to date me for a year and then dump me after said year?” You question coldly your arms crossed over your chest as you pull your face away from his hand. He closes his eyes as a look of guilt and regret crosses his features. “Y-Yes, but—no buts…that kinda says it all then, doesn’t it?” You cut him off as you turn away from him and try to continue walking but you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist.

“I love you…. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, if you’re still mad at me then I can accept that. If you still want to punish me then fine. But please, it’s been three months since I’ve last been able to talk to you, let alone see you; please let me just have the chance on this tour to fix things.” He urges hopefully. You sigh “Felix…. —Do you still love me?” He cuts you off, his breathing growing heavy as you feel your cheeks heat up. “That doesn’t matter…” You answer, as you attempt to pull yourself from his grip. “Yes, it does…” He whispers, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“No. It really doesn’t. My love for you doesn’t change what you did….”

“It tells me if I have a chance to change your mind though.”

“Why are you so adamant about this? Why can’t you just move on?” You argue. “Because I love you and I don’t want to love anyone else…” Felix states matter of factly. Your heart races at his words. “W-well…I-I’ve moved on…” You lie. You feel Felix’s grip tighten slightly as he buries his face in your neck, you feel a soft rumble on your chest as you hear a chuckle escape Felix’s throat “No, you haven’t…you still love me” He denies. You scoff in offense, turning your head to face him.

“You don’t know that. Not for a fact.”

“I do. Want me to prove I do?”

Your eyes narrow at him “You can’t prove how someone else fee”—your words are cut off by a pair of soft plush lips connecting with yours. Your heart races at the contact as one of Felix’s hands caress your cheek, his lips moving against yours softly. Your cheeks burn a bright scarlet as you instinctively respond to the kiss, a small groan released from your throat when Felix nibbles on your bottom lip. It felt almost like an eternity before either of you pulled away, him being the first to do so. Your lips chasing his for a moment before you hear a chuckle “See…proved it” He whispered in your ear seductively “this is going to be a fun 6 months with you babe” He placed a kiss on your cheek before handing you the water bottle you had given Changbin back and walking away. You stare at the water bottle in confusion “Where did you have this hiding?!” Felix shrugs as he places his hands in his basketball shorts pockets. “I’m an enigma, I’m your boyfriend you should know this…”

Seungmin:

“I’ll tell you now, besides Seungmin. You should be the last person to come and see me.”

You growl at Jeongin who stood with a guilty expression on his face as he stood on your porch. He hangs his head low as he sighs “I’m sorry Y/N, the bet was my idea…I shouldn’t have pushed Seungmin to accept it so much.” He apologized regretfully. “Do you want a medal or something?” You snap as you wipe the tears from your face. “You know what sucks about finding out that Seungmin had this bet going?” Jeongin shakes his head in response, “That he’s a jerk?” Jeongin guesses. “No. that my best friend is just as disgusting as my ex was.” You growl before you slam the door in Jeongin’s face. You sigh as you press your back against the door, your body gliding down the surface until you’re sat on the floor. Tears stream down your cheeks, as sobs wrack your body. The betrayal of Seungmin’s words truly setting in for the first time in days. Pulling your phone out, you press on Seungmin’s contact name and call him.

He answers on the first ring “Babe?” He gasps out quickly. “D-don’t.” Your voice cracks.

“A-are you crying?”

“Yup. Thanks for that by the way….”

“I—I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, but I am really fucking sorry.”

You sigh into the phone as you sniffle “You’re right. That means absolutely nothing to me. I called because I’m really upset and its your fault and I’m really fucking mad at you right now. How could you do this to me? I thought you liked me…. I thought I meant something to you…” you sob. “You do! Please don’t think you don’t…. please…” He pleads desperately. “You mean everything to me. I just made a massively stupid mistake. I-I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to find out this way….” You scoff “This way or at all?” Seungmin pauses for a moment “Honestly, I wish I could say I would have told you but if you didn’t overhear me, I wouldn’t have ever told you about it.” He confesses, his voice cracking toward the end. “Why not? You won right?” You retort sarcastically.

“Don’t.” He groans “Don’t do that, please? I didn’t want you to know because I knew this would happen. I know I deserve this, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me too. You don’t think I hurt myself too? You don’t think I hated myself every time I saw you and you looked at me in that perfectly beautiful way you do, and I knew that it all started from some disgustingly misogynistic bet? But that doesn’t change that I loved you the whole time. It doesn’t change that I knew you were meant for me since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Your heart races at his words. You notice the soft sniffles coming from the other side of the phone. “A-Are you crying?” You ask. “I shouldn’t be. I caused this. I stupidly listened to Jeongin, and I knew it wasn’t a good idea…I knew you had no interest in Jeongin at all, but—sigh—I let my stupid jealousy make a decision for me. I regret it. I’ve regretted it ever since I made it.” He confesses. Your heart feels conflicted. His words sway your resolve more and more. “Can I have some time?” You ask softly. “I need to feel not completely and utterly foolish to continue this conversation…”

“Take your time…I’ll wait as long as you need me to…. but I do love you….”

Jeongin:

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m more than sorry…”

Jeongin pleaded as he trailed behind you on your walk home from work. “God, I hope dispatch doesn’t find out where I live….” You groan as you stand in front of your apartment building. Glaring at Jeongin who stood there, face exposed, exclaiming his love for you. “Does that really matter right now?” Jeongin questioned frustratedly. “I mean considering we broke up over two weeks ago? Yeah. It would be a major problem.” You argue. Jeongin shakes his head in denial, “No. we’re not broken up. I never agreed to breaking up.” He whined, tears forming in his eyes as he continued to argue “I’m giving you space and time to be upset, I deserve you to be mad at me. I know you deserve better than someone as gross as I am who would make a bet like that, but I promise you, when I said it was the easiest 500 dollars, I ever made I meant it in a good way. I meant it was easy to be with you because you’re so amazing. B-because I love you, that’s why it became so easy. Honestly, before the guys said something that day, I forgot I even made the bet.”

 “Can you like…not be so fucking rational all the time?” You groan in frustration, “But I don’t care if you wanted to break up or not. Like you said, you made a gross ass bet with your gross ass friends. I’m not some random desperate insecure girl hoping and praying you’ll stay interested in me. If you mess up this bad it’s not up to me to help you fix it. This shit is gonna take time if I even want to see you again when I’m no longer angry.”

“If? Y-You don’t want to see me anymore?” His voice cracks as he stares at you apologetically, tears now streaming down his cheeks as your words hit him. “Y-You won’t even give me a chance?” You rest your forehead on the palm of your hand for a moment. “You made a bet to sleep with me and then break up with me after I said I love you.” You remind him. Jeongin looks nauseous at the mention of his misdeed. “b-but I didn’t. I-I didn’t do it…I didn’t break up with you. T-the guys—I don’t care” You cut him off “who cares if you and the guys changed their minds after the fact—'b-but we really felt’—I don’t care. You guys should feel guilty. I’m a fun, and nice person, I have awesome memes and I value honesty over everything. The fact that you could lie to me for almost two fucking years is insane.” You snap, your blood boiling as he continues to try to make excuse after excuse. “If you didn’t fall in love with me or whatever, you would have ripped my heart out.” You state matter of factly. Jeongin shakes his head in denial. “T-that’s not true, I’m not like that. I would have told you the truth, I swear I would have said something if I never felt anything for you. I felt like telling you the whole first two weeks of us dating.” He counters. You snort at the irony “So you had no feelings for me the whole first two weeks of us dating? What changed? Why’d you suddenly get feelings? You sure you didn’t just trick yourself into thinking you loved me out of guilt.”

“I’m a good guy, but not that good of a guy. I’d love to say this is not like me but that wouldn’t be true. I’ve done these types of bets with the guys before. I’ve liked some of the girls and some I didn’t either way I always told them the truth at the end of the timeframe. But for you, it was at that party we went to in Seongnam; Felix was really drunk and rambling on and on about the bet when you went to the bathroom and the whole time, he was talking all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to break up with me on the same night I had realized I liked you. I mean how could I not? Y-You’re perfect. You’re so kind and understanding and forgiving….” His voice breaks as he tries to contain his tears “…. You’re the most beautiful person I know, and I-I can’t lose you. Not like this. Please. Not like this” He begs as the tears continue to stream down his face.

You stand there for a moment, silence taking over both of you. For a moment it feels like time has stopped completely and you two are the only ones in this place. “I-I…I can’t.” You whisper, a look of bewilderment is written all over Jeongin’s expression. “N-No…y-you love me…w-we love each other. You can’t—you can’t do this. Please don’t—don’t do this.” He stammers in denial. “I-I’m not saying we have to completely break up…b-but I need time, I can’t trust you anymore. It feels like I don’t know you anymore….” You reject softly. Jeongin sobs “Y-Yes you do! You know me better than anyone, I made a mistake, I know that. But I’ll never hurt you like that again, ill never betray your trust again please….”

“I love you; I do. But I need time….”

“Please…. don’t walk away from us, I care about you so much. It was a mistake, promise you that” He pleads as he walks toward you, his hands encasing your arms. His eyes connecting with yours, you turn your head looking away. His hand caresses your cheek. “I love you please give me a chance to make up for this, please don’t leave me like this. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry I just want to fix this I don’t want to break up.” He urges as he rests his forehead on yours. “I need time I can’t just get over this please give me some time.” You sigh sadly. “B-But—no…. I can’t accept that you did this to me….it hurts too much for me to just jump into something with someone I can’t trust.” You cut him off.

“But you can trust me. Please give me a chance to prove that….”

“I don’t know, I need space…. I need time…. This hurts so much, and I can’t just move on from it. I need to process everything so please give me time and we can talk later—another time.”

His eyes fill with horror as he shakes his head rapidly “I-No….no…. This can’t be happening. P-please….im sorry” you sigh taking a step back. “It is happening, but I need to handle this alone, I can’t be with you please leave….”

He stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched you disappear into your building. “Please, I’m nothing without you….” He whispered nothing.

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[sutorus]

OFF TO THE RACES

DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.

PAIRING: toji x reader

WC: 1.9k

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 

A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!

“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 

a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 

he had told you to dress up today. 

how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 

if only you had known.

you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.

you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 

it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 

the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 

but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 

that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 

toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 

“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”

you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 

the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 

he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 

you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 

you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 

but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?

the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 

it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 

the heat inside you spreads further. 

“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”

it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 

“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 

your shut your eyes tightly. 

you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 

you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 

you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.

they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 

a one in eight change. 

god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 

you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  

“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 

it’s useless, of course.

toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 

he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 

but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 

your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 

you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 

your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.

he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 

toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 

your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 

stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 

toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 

he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.

no remorse at all. 

it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 

you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 

your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 

you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 

someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 

an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.

surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—

before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 

but his fingers don’t leave you. 

no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 

and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.

if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 

you wish you could cry right now.

instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.

those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 

you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 

“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”

you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 

“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 

his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 

“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 

it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 

when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 

you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.

dangerously close to first place. 

it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 

you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 

if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.

when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 

you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 

there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 

“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”

the man points his thumb over his shoulder.

the race is over.

horse number four came in at fourth place. 

how fitting. 

his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.

but still. are they really going to—

“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 

toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 

“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”

that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 

toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?

you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 

there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 

the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.

he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 

toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 

when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 

“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”

toji smirks.

you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 

you swallow down the last of your sobs.

“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."

[yurmomsawh0r]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐄. 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

.*•.*• 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱- 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫! 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 (𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝), 𝐔𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝

.*•.*• 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥!😭

“Are you all dressed and ready my love?” You called out to your two year old daughter as you grabbed all your things. “Yes mama! I ready.” She giggled as she slipped into her crocs but with each shoe on the wrong foot.

You smiled at her goofiness and bent down to help her with her shoes. “You put them on the wrong feet baby, but I’ll help you.” You smiled up at her. Obsessed with her cute little face. She was the perfect mixture of you and Eren. Her greens eyes resembling his all the way.

You were running late, but it was your fault. You had forgotten to pack her bag last night, resulting in you running around the house trying to get everything together.

Grabbing her hand, you raced out the house but not before locking it behind you.

“I can’t wait to see Vivi today! She said we would make cookies the last time!” Aaliyha spouted happily in her car seat. Making you smile at her. You were happy with how comfortable your daughter was with your friend Felicity. Luckily enough she also had a daughter that was a year older than yours. Her name was Vivica but Aaliyha called her Vivi. “Can you try to save mommy some cookies baby?”

“Otay mama.”

-

After you dropped her off you raced down to your job. It was a new club that had just opened up about a year ago and it was already pretty popular. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 was the name and you worked their as a bartender/server, but recently you’ve been thinking about switching to an aerialist dancer since they a little made more money.

Keeping up with your bills was starting to get a little hard, especially since your daughter was getting older and her expenses were getting more costly by the year.

I wish Eren was here to help me. I probably wouldn’t have to work so hard. Shit, I probably wouldn’t have to do anything if he was here.

But that was just something you’d have to deal with. After all Eren had no idea he even had a daughter to begin with.

Two years ago, when you had found out you were pregnant, you decided to make the biggest decision in your life. Taking a few stacks of his cash you knew he had hidden and disappeared.

Of course you didn’t want to hurt him, but Eren was starting to change into someone you couldn’t recognize and bringing a baby in the mix of who he was becoming scared you.

You see, Eren used to be a sweet boy. Although he was the plug for weed he always had his head on right. That was until he started to deal with heavier drugs. He slowly started to become colder, more detached and distant. . .

I knew he had gone two far when he started to come home late at night when he thought you would be sleeping. Blood being splattered all over him.

Although Eren always kept you away from the dangerous lifestyle he was getting into, you saw what it was turning him into and it was becoming to much for you.

It scared you.

So you left, and haven’t looked back for two whole years.

You did miss him though. He was the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. He was always one to spoil you and tell you how beautiful you are. Always catering to your needs. Listening to your opinions and ambitions.

You loved the way he made you feel. So safe and secure.

You missed being in his arms. The way he kissed your neck on all your sweet spots.

The way his fingers scissored your pussy, leaving you drippin’ wet. You missed the way his dick bruised your walls and rubbed your insides with all his curved 8 inch glory.

No matter how many guys you had fucked after you left him, none of them could get you off like Eren did.

Yes you missed him.

Even now. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the moment. Your body burning up just from the memories.

“Hey boo, you good?” Jordan, your coworker asked you. Snapping you out of your lustful thoughts.

“Yea girl I’m fine.” You tried to reassure her, but she wasn’t fooled. “You sure? You seem like you got a fever,” she placed a hand on your forehead. “And you feel hot.”

You smacked your lips, and brushed her hand off. “J come on, let’s get this money bitch.”

“Mm, let me guess you was thinking about yo ex again.” Jordan teased you. Placing a hand on her hip as she eyed you. You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Yea I was thinking’ bout that nigga.” You couldn’t help from telling the truth. For some reason the past couple of months he’s been on your mind far more often than not.

Putting your small waistline apron on, you got to work.

-

Eren couldn’t believe his eyes. He sat frozen with his hand tightly gripping his glass filled with whisky. He tried to keep his composure as best as he could as to not alert his newest business partner. Eren could feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest.

He just couldn’t believe it. There you were just across the floor, serving customers. His customers. Who would have thought that after two years, fate would lead you back to him.

“Eren?” Jean called out to him. He glanced in his direction. Jeans eyes subtly moving from the client back to him.

“𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.” Eren told the two men in grey suits. Soon, Eren would have his own casino on a remote island. There he would host a black market auction that sold only the rarest of treasures.

The two men in grey suits stood up and offered their hands to shake.

Once Eren saw they were out of the club, his attention immediately went back to where you stood. You looked different, but he knew it was you. He’d never mistake that pretty face for someone else’s.

Your hair was no longer the long length it had been. It was not cut short and styled in finger waves. Your face sported two new nose piercings along with a few new tattoos from what he could see.

He also noticed that you were no longer the skinny bodied female he knew two years ago. Your breast had gotten heavier. No longer the small B cups. Even your hips had spread. The way your mini skirt clung to you let him see just how big your ass had gotten.

Finally - he thought. I’ve fucking found you.

-

That night, Eren had followed you home. You didn’t live that far from the club and that gave him the satisfaction of knowing just how close you were.

The next day, he had a close friend of his bring up a file on you. To say he was shocked to find out that you had a child was an understatement. He was furious.

It was like he was staring right into he own eyes. She looked just like a mixture of the both of you. Already, Eren could tell that she was his.

He couldn’t help but be upset with you. First you leave unannounced and then you have his daughter and didn’t think to tell him anything. He would have taken care of you guys. He would have given you both the world.

So why. Why did you do it? Why did you leave him?

All these questions that would soon be answered when he had you back. And this time he didn’t plan on letting you go.

-

You had just dropped Aaliyha off at day care for a few hours so that you could get some time to yourself today.

It had been a pretty busy week for you and you needed a small break to recuperate and gather your thoughts. Maybe even do a little self care.

You decide you deserved a nice looong hot steamy shower. So you made your way upstairs and stripped out of your leggings and sports bra. Turning the water to hot, and letting it warm up, you went and grabbed your speaker.

Cleo Sol played in the background as you stepped into your shower, washing all your worries away. The hot water loosening all the stiffness in your back.

30 minutes had passed and you finally decided to wash your body. Grabbing your pomegranate scented soap, you scrubbed the dirt and grime from off of you.

You stepped out of the shower and wrapped your fluffy towel around yourself and wiped your feet of any extra water feeling ten times better than you did before. After doing your face routine, you applied pomegranate scented lotion to your body before leaving your bathroom.

You weren’t really paying attention as you made your way to your dresser. Dropping the towel without a care in the world.

“𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚, 𝐈’𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈’𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.”

You halted in your spot. That voice. It couldn’t be. . .

A gasp escaped you as you glanced over your shoulder.

Erens’ piercing green eyes stared right at you. They were menacing. He sat on your bed shirtless, pants unbuttoned with a blunt in his hand already sparked.

“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭? 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞? 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.“ He said as he took a hit. You gulped.

You didn’t really know what to say or how to react. Apart of you were happy that he was here. You missed him, but . . . The other part of you was scared. How had he even found you. How had he even got into your apartment!?

Quickly, you fumbled to pick up your towel and wrap it around yourself once you realized you were completely naked in front of him.

This only made him laugh. A smirk playing on his face. This snapped you back into reality. If it was one thing, you hated being laughed at.

“The fuck is so funny Yeager!?” You raised your voice at him. Your face filled with an attitude he missed. Just seeing it made his dick jump.

“𝐎𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.” He said as he put the blunt out on your pink comforter before standing. It was like he had grown taller. His body was more muscular than it was the last time you seen him. His hair was tied back in a low bun. Something you always thought was sexy on him.

His knuckles sported new tattoos and even a few lingered on his body as well. He pretty much looked the same but something definitely changed about him.

It was like he was a whole different person, and this person is someone you wouldn’t want to cross.

He took a step towards you. “𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬.“

“𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬.“ He spoke lowly as he took a few more steps.

“𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.“ As he said this, you couldn’t help but feel heartbroken for him.

You knew he was angry, you knew he had every right to be, and you were sorry, but you couldn’t fix the past. You weren’t sure that even if you could, you would want too.

You had to remember, you thought you were doing what was best for her. You stared at Eren from underneath your lashes. A pout sitting in your face as he towered over you.

“𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫.“

Now this made tears well up and fall from you. “I-I’m s-sorry. I d-d, I-I wasn’t trying t-to-“

He only shushed you. Tilting your tear stricken face upward towards him. “𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” Not a second later, he pressed his lip’s against yours with a sizzling need. He gripped the towel you were holding onto, yanking it away from your body.

The sudden change in your body temperature caused you to flinch at how cold it was suddenly. “Mm!” You cried out when he gripped your short tuffs of hair, pulling your head back so he could stick his tongue deeper down your throat.

His hands wandered down and gripped your ass in his large hands. Another thing you missed about him. “𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚.“ Eren spoke in between kissing you. He lifted you into his arms and walked you both to your bed, you sucking on his tongue, devouring his mouth with your own.

It had been so long since you’ve felt like this and you were to far gone to have any rational thoughts to stop. He laid you down on the bed before lifting up just to cup your breast.

“𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.“ He gripped your nipples, twisting slightly, making your body arch up. “𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬?“ You nodded, but squealed when he flicked your nipple.

“𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.“

“Yes Eren, I missed you.” You couldn’t help but whine. This made him grin. His finger rubbing slow circles around your clit.

“Oh yesss!”

“𝐇𝐦𝐩𝐡, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲. 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞..” He spoke — slipping two fingers inside you, making a ‘come here’ motion.

Your legs opened wider for him. Your body writhing in pleasure as he took you to a place you haven’t been in a long time.

“Oh fuck! Pleeaassee keep doing that!”

Eren continued his assault on you. Kissing his way down your body until his mouth hovered over your pussy.

“𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚?“

“Yes daddy! Please, I missed this.” Your body was shaking as the orgasm pulsed through you. Erens fingers were now coated in your wet creamy cum.

Erens lips latched on to your clit suckling just the way you liked. Your moans grew louder and louder as he did. His tongue lapping up your juices, making the most embarrassing wet noises ever, but you didn’t care.

All you cared about was how good this man was making you feel.

“Uh, boss? Do you want us to clear everything out, or take only the important stuff?” A big hulking figure asked from the door way causing you to scream.

Eren lifted his head from between your legs slowly. He looked behind him with a menacing look that made the big guy take a step back.

“Sorry boss, I’ll uh- figure it out.” He said before tuning and leaving, only for two more guys to come in and start grabbing things from out of your closet. They paid you both no mind. Just simply grabbing what needed to be grabbed and walking out without a glance your way.

“EREN WHAT THE FUCK!” You yelled. You weren’t so comfortable with men coming in and out of your room while you were naked and being eatin’ out. Eren ignored you though, and lowered his head in between your thighs, licking away like a starved animal.

You tried to hold in your moans as best as you could but another orgasm ripped from you.

“𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲.“ He taunted.

Once he removed himself from your thighs, he took his own pants off with his boxers following. His cock stood at attention. Dripping pre-nut and sporting thick veins. He was ready for you.

You couldn’t help close your legs slightly. It had been a while since you had sex, and you knew this was going to be a little uncomfortable. I doubt Eren was not going to take it easy on you.

“𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐧𝐨𝐰.”

And you did. Slowly but surely you did. “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.“ He gripped the back of your knees. Grinding his dick against you a couple of times before he pushed himself inside.

Your hands flew to his abdomen trying to slow down his intrusion but it did little to stop him. He was now fully seethed inside of you. The feeling of being full was so foreign to you but it felt so good.

It felt good to be filled by him again.

“𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞?“

He thrusted into you at a fast pace. You gripped his arms tightly as he assaulted your womb. His ball clapped against your ass in a steady repetitive motion that only added to your lust filled heat.

“𝐇𝐮𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚?! 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮?“ He asked you again. This time going faster. “Ah! Yess, yess daddy! I m-mmissed youuuu!”

Your third - or fourth orgasm tore through your body once again. Your slick making it easier for him to go deeper.

“Yesss ‘REN! Just like that daddy!” You could feel him brush against your cervix with every thrust. He groans getting mixed in with our own.

You could tell he was close to nutting. His once hard thrust becoming sloppy but still working your pussy.

“𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.“ Eren grunted, his nut filling you up with one last thrust. The both of you panting and out of breath.

When he slid from the warmth of your walls, he quickly threw your towel back over you and slipped back into his boxers and jeans, lighting the same blunt he had put out earlier. His men still walking in and out of the room with your things as if nothing ever happened.

“𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[imbored1201]

Dumb Decisions

Happy birthday to my homie @sleekswosobession

Pairing: Barcelona Femeni x Reader (Sick fic)

Word Count: 1.1k

You cursed in your head as you were woken up by Alexia pulling your blankets off you. “Get up,” she said, grabbing your bag and throwing it on your bed to get you started. It took you a while to actually process what was going on, but all you knew was that your head hurt really bad and you felt like you were about to throw up. 

You were sick. You spent the next 10 minutes questioning if you should tell Alexia or not. 

You told yourself it was dumb to train and that you should tell Alexia, but there was the other part of you that didn’t care and just wanted to train. 

The second part won. You were able to take medicine without Alexia noticing before you left for training, but the nausea really hit you when you walked into the locker room. 

The loud conversations weren't helping with the headache. Especially with Patri blasting her music and running around poking everyone to get them excited for this very early training. 

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Frido cooed and pinched your cheek when she noticed your mood. “I'm just not feeling it today." She frowned and patted your head before leaving you alone. 

————

“Y/N, come here." You froze hearing Jonatans voice, quickly making your way to him. “Si?” You tried your best to make yourself look somewhat presentable, but you were barely able to stand straight at this point, just wanting to curl up on the grass and cry. 

“Go see the medics,” you said, giving him an odd look. “Why? I don’t feel any discomfort.” 

“You look pale; you're off your game today; even right now, you're struggling to even catch your breath. Get checked out.”

He waved you off, leaving you no room to argue back. You simply huffed and walked back to the lockers. 

————

You shuffled into the room, looking in between them. They stared back at you, inspecting you to see what was wrong. “Sit,” one of them said. “She’s all yours,” the other one said, and she walked out to go back onto the field to monitor. 

“Symptoms?” “I don’t feel anything,” she let out a sigh. “Do I have to get Alexia?” You looked at her, terrified. “No” 

“You know, when players are sick, they usually stay home,” you heard her mutter. You scowled, “I’m not sick; just tell Jonatan I’m fine.” You were silenced by her glare. 

“Do you want me to lose my job?” You quickly shook your head, thinking of any other ways to get out of this situation. 

“Can I at least change out of these clothes? I feel nasty.” She just nodded, desperately wanting to get a tiny break from you. 

————

There were 10 minutes left of practice, so you knew she was going to notice; you just hoped it was towards the last 5 minutes. 

“Here comes trouble." Cata commented as she watched you jog back to Jona to tell him you were "fine.”. 

He did look a bit worried, but he decided to just let you off and motioned for you to go on a team for a scrimmage. 

You didn’t know why, but you were tired before it even started. “You haven’t done anything,” Patri commented when she noticed how you were struggling to even stand. This drew the attention of everyone. 

“I need a moment," you said as you sat down, regretting even coming back on the pitch. 

“You okay?” Ingrid put a hand on your back, watching as you struggled to catch your breath. "Fine,” you wheezed out. 

After a couple more minutes, you finally recovered. “Why is everyone staring at me?” You whined to Ingrid, and everyone quickly went back to doing their drill. “Let's get you some water.” 

“Y/N!” You froze hearing the medic, everyone watched shocked as she started sprinting towards you. “Ah shit” as much as you wanted to run away, you just didn’t have any energy left and just sat on the grass, accepting your fate. 

“What is going on?!” Jona asked, frustrated; training had been interrupted way too much today, and he was sick of it. “She’s sick, and she lied to me,” Jona sighed and waved Alexia over. 

“Never a moment of peace with you around,” Alexia muttered, dragging you off the pitch. You made sure to stick your tongue out at the medic. 

————

“Sit down,” Alexia said sternly, for once you actually listened to her. “What are you feeling?” You were about to speak until she cut you off. “And be honest, no lies,” you rubbed your nose. 

“I’m not feeling good,” you admitted, and you watched as Irene entered the room again. Alexia held back a sarcastic comment, looking at her. Irene took that as a sign to take over and gently pushed Ale away to cool down. 

“Okay, let's do this quickly so we can get you home.'' You rubbed your eyes and nodded at her words. You watched as everyone entered the locker room again and took the water from Salma. 

“This is probably the dumbest thing you’ve done." You glared at Salma and watched as Patri and Pina laughed at you. “Alexia, tell them to leave me alone.” 

One look from Alexia, and they quickly went back to doing whatever they were before. 

————

Alexia was jealous watching as you listened to everything Irene told you to do. You even took the medicine without complaining. 

“Now all you need is rest; you’ll be better soon." Irene reassured you as she brushed your hair. 

"Gracias, Irene, you should get home to your family; I can take it from here." All Ale got was a look. “Please don’t go all captain on her, not until she fully feels better.” 

“That’s difficult for her,” you whispered, and with one last hug, Irene was out the door. Now it was just you and Alexia. 

“You're an idiot." You looked upset by that statement, making Alexia regret it. “Movie?” “My choice?” “You always choose.” That was true; no matter how many times Alexia told you she was going to choose the movie, it always ended up with you choosing. 

————

“You need to tell me when you're sick, Bebe." You tested your head on Alexia’s shoulder as you scrolled through to find a good movie. 

“Needed to train." “No, the number one thing you need to worry about is your health.” 

“Yes Ale” She wrapped a blanket over you and focused on the movie you chose.

[miguelsslvt]

MOTHERR!!

I have a raging NEED for brat reader. Honestly just tiny things that reader thinks nothing of but miggy (miguel) is actually keeping tabs and when reader gets to a certain number or just does something to piss miggy off you get a punishment 🤭

brat tamer! miguel x bratty! reader smut

word count: 2.17k

TW: spanking, punishment, NSFW, smut under cut, possessiveness (???), use of ‘girl’ and ‘pussy’, y/n is a bratty icon

A/N: can u notice i got a bit carried away? happy kinktober!

Miguel wasn’t a pussy. You knew that for sure. He never backed down on anything, whether that be a bet, or a dare, or a fight, or even his girlfriend.

He knew having a girlfriend like you would be a challenge for him, and to be honest, he liked a challenge. being a man of his age, he didn’t do too well with easy girls. Girls who would do anything for Miguel. That gave him the ice, thinking of a girl willingly doing what Miguel wanted. No. He didn’t want that.

He wanted a girl that could bite back. A girl that could tease, and whine, but make it look good. he realised that when he met you.

You, who would go out of your way just to make a snarky comment towards Miguel, you whine when he puts you on a particular mission with a spider totem you didn’t like. You, who would roll your eyes when he told you to bend over, or when you would scoff and even laugh at him after he told you to behave.

But, at the end of the day, what he loved most, was every time he told you to do something, you would end up doing it at the end. He liked that. Knowing that he was the only one you would actually listen to. He felt powerful, knowing that such a pretty thing like you would always end up falling under his little traps.

That was until today.

it all started in the morning, when you were latching onto him like a koala as he got ready. ‘Don’t go today miggy, can’t we just stay home?~’ you whined, causing Miguel to sigh. ‘We can’t, hermosa. The multiverse is in da-‘ ‘my pussy is in danger!!’ you whined, causing miguel to raise an eyebrow. ‘How can your pussy be in danger?’ He asked, you smirked. ‘negligence.’ You said, as he scoffed. ‘We had sex less then 9 hours ago-‘ ‘that doesn’t matter!! Please miggy~’ he ended up having to drag you off him and took you to work himself that day.

But oh, it didn’t stop there. All day, you would find pets and small excuses to go into Miguel’s office to burden him. First you came in for paperwork, then to give more paperwork, then you came in to remind him lunch was soon, then you came in again to report an anomaly. Miguel knew what you were doing. I mean, you could easily call him or put the paperwork into holographic paper so he could access it easier. He knew you only came in to see him. he was tempted, truly, but he had a job to do.

‘Here again, hermosa? I might have to disconnect Lyla and make you my PA.’ he said, turning around to you, as Lyla appeared, scoffing in an over-dramatic manner. You just chuckled. ‘I could never replace someone as perfect as you Lyla.’ You said, as Lyla smiled, disappearing. ‘What are you doing here again exactly?’ Miguel asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Well, you’re a smart guy miggy, I’m sure you know I just wanna see you!’ You said, Miguel sighed.

‘Sweetheart, you’ve been nagging me all day.’ He said, as you smirked. ‘I haven’t heard any complaints.’ ‘Well now you are.’ He said, sighing and putting his hands on your cheeks. ‘As much as I love you and your persistence, I can’t today. How about later, hm?’ He tried to compromise, which made you even more frustrated. ‘Later? ..hm. fine. I’ll wait later.’ You said, walking out and shutting the door. i’ll show you later. you thought, smirking and going into the cafeteria for lunch.

By 3pm in Nueva York, it was the prime of lunch in the spider HQ cafeteria. Miguel walked in, off to order something to help his growling belly, when he stopped and noticed you with hobie brown. You were touchy with Hobie, hand on his arm and sometimes even on his leg, giggling and talking away to him. You looked over to Miguel, smirking maliciously as you continued.

He knew what you were doing. You were trying to make him riled up. And it was fucking working. Lyla suddenly appeared beside Miguel. ‘Miguel, your heart rate’s sped up. Are you-‘ ‘I’m fine, Lyla. Help out spider-byte or something.’ He said frustratedly, walking over to you and Hobie.

‘Oh hi sweetheart! You don’t look too good..’ You teased, Miguel smirked bitterly. ‘I’m fine. How’s work?’ He said, as you smiled widely. ‘Oh it’s going great! Me and hobie have been bonding really good!’ You said, smiling. You could see Miguel’s jaw move, signifying his fangs have extended. You knew Miguel well enough to know he was fuming. Lyla appeared again.

‘Sir your heart ra-‘ ‘Lyla leave. Now.’ He said, as Lyla nodded, rolling her AI eyes as she disappeared. Hobie raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you alright mate? You don’t seem a-‘ ‘I’m fine.’ He said, looking at you. ‘I’ll see you at home, yes?’ He asked, eyes narrowing.

You smirked. ‘I dunno, me and hobie were talking about hitting the club toget-‘ ‘the club?’ He cut you off. You smiled ‘innocently’. ‘Mhm!’ you replied, Miguel smirked bitterly. ‘How about we have a nice little ‘chat’ huh honey?’ He said, as you smiled, standing up. ‘Mm no, I don’t think so. how about later, hm?’ you said, quoting what Miguel said before. He raised a brow. ‘You sure you wanna do take road?’ He warned, as you smiled warmly. ‘I’ve gotta go refill my drink. Talk to you later?’ You said, as he sighed, holding your arm lightly, but enough to pull you closer to him, his mouth next to your ear. ‘My office. 5 minutes.’ Was all he said, before walking away. Suddenly, he was hungry for something else.

————————————————————————————

As you walked in, you made sure to lock the door. You walked up to Miguel’s platform, his back facing towards you. You looked at his muscles, biting your lower lip as you remember the countless of times you would scratch that perfect back of his, as he made you scream of ecstasy.

‘Lyla, do not disturb until I turn you back on.’ He said, his voice in a low growl. Lyla nodded. ‘Yes captain!’ the AI said, wearing a sailor suit before disappearing.

You took in a deep breath, considering to apologise. fuck no, you thought. You got this far, might as well seal the punishment, right?

‘There a problem, sweetheart?’ You teased, putting your hand on his shoulder, massaging it. ‘You look tense..’ You whispered in his ear, as he took in a deep breath, turning around, looking at you. His eyes were hazy, filled with lust and desire. You tilted your head innocently.

‘Bend over the desk.’ He said in a low growl. You smirked. ‘Or what?’you teased even more. he tilted his head up, not taking his eyes off of you. ‘Don’t make me ask again, pretty girl.’ He said firmly. You just scoffed, doing as he said. You bent down, arching your back. He lifted your skirt up swiftly. ‘Safe word?’ He asked, as you rolled your eyes. ‘red. Now are you gonna be a little bitch and stand there or-‘ you got cut off by a large spank on your ass, as you gasped loudly, your hands holding onto the desk. ‘Count for me, princess.’ He teased, as you bit your lower lip. ‘Fuck y-‘ spank! ‘a-ah okay f-fine!! t-two..’ You said breathlessly, as he smirked. ‘You’re learning.’

spank! ’f-fuck! Three..’ You panted, your ass burning from the sensation of Miguel’s hands hitting it with such force. That’s another thing you love about Miguel. How he could punish you but you could still enjoy it.

’T-twenty!! Please.. p-lease Mig..’ You panted breathlessly. He rubbed your sore ass now, leaning closer to your ear. ‘Have you learned?’ He whispered, as you nodded quickly. ‘I-i’ll be good.. I’ll be so good for you..’ you whispered, as he sighed. ‘ah.. there she is.’ He whispered, his fingers going down towards your slit. ‘Just had to show you who’s boss again, hm?’ He teased, putting in one finger, causing you to gasp, trying to lean your head up, as he pushed it back down with his other hand. ‘Head down, hermosa.’ He said, as you whined a little. ‘You ready for another finger?’ He asked, as you nodded. ‘Y-yes just put it in already..’ You whined, as he smirked, waiting for it.

‘..please.’ you said eventually, as he chuckled, putting another finger in, causing you to hold onto the desk again, gasping in the burning pleasure. ‘Just have to fuck you dumb on my fingers to get you to listen, hm? You like it when you’re full of me?’ He teased, playing with your hair as he leaned to your ear again, placing sloppy kisses on your neck. You nodded. ‘y-yes.. you know I do mig..’ you whispered, as he smirked, going up to your ear once again. ‘Just wait till you’re full of my cock again. You think you can handle it?’ He asked, as you moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers deeper inside you. He smiled softly. ‘Silly question, I know you can handle me. You do it every time like the big girl you are, right?’ He asked, as you moaned breathlessly. He pulled his fingers out of you. ‘That was a question, love.’ He whispered, as you nodded. ‘Y-yes! I-i can take it.. i take it every time, you know I do..!’ you whined, as he smirked, looking at your lust-filled expression on your face.

Your cheeks were flushed, your mouth slightly agape as you panted, your hair messy and eyes half lidded. miguel could feel himself twitch in his pants. He put his two fingers in his mouth, licking them clean as he used his other hand to unbuckle his pants.

‘You ready?’ He whispered to you, as you nodded. ‘words.’ He said, as you looked up at Miguel through your lashes. ‘Just put it in you teasing fucke-‘ you got cut off by a loud moan, as he put his thick tip inside of your pussy. He smirked, watching all the frustration and fight fall out of your face. You bit your lower lip, whimpering. No matter how many times you two fucked, nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of his cock inside you.

‘Where’s all that brattiness gone, hm?’ He asked, slowly sliding in inside you, letting out a quiet groan. ‘I could’ve sworn you were telling me about hobie brown just a few minutes ago..’ He teased, as you gasped, moaning. ‘H-he could never fill me like you can miggy.. o-only your girl..’ You reassured breathlessly, as he chuckled, leaning closer to your ear. ‘I know baby, I know. Only dumb for my cock, right?’ He cooed, as you nodded before gasping once again as he started pushing in and out. He held your hips in place, as you fell back onto the desk, your back arching into him, causing him to hit all the deep spots inside you. You were a moaning mess, as he watched as his pretty little brat fell apart on his cock. He felt his pride and lust coming out as he held onto her hair lightly. ‘Like it, hermosa? Like being fucked dumb, all you needed was a good dick down to shut up that filthy mouth of yours?’ He teased, as you were practically incoherent. You nodded mindlessly, as he smiled softly, chuckling in your ear. ‘Cant even hear a word I’m saying, can you? Only thinking about how close you are.’ He mocked, as you moaned again, tears spilling from your eyes as his pace sped up.

‘C-close!’ You said a few minutes later, holding onto the desk for dear life as Miguel drilled himself into you. ‘Yeah I know baby, can feel you tightening around me, you wanna cum? Hm?’ He asked, as you nodded. ‘Yes! please.. p-lease I’ll be a good girl.. I-i’ll be your good girl just please..’ You babbled, as Miguel just chuckled, shutting you up by putting his fingers in your mouth. ‘Talking too much, honey.’ He teased, as you moaned through his fingers. He felt your walls clamp around him, signalling your near. He sped up, chasing his own high as well as yours.

Soon enough, you came undone. You moaned loudly, eyes rolled back as you hit your euphoria, your walls spasming around Miguel causing his high to crash too. He grunted deeply, as he continued to thrust his load inside you. you felt his cum deep inside you, as you came back from your high, Miguel panting, giving you one last hard thrust as he finished.

He pulled out slowly, grunting quietly as he moved your jaw to look at him. Your face had that pretty blissed out expression, the one you usually got when you had been fucked dumb. good. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson next time.

————————————————————————————

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 11] Date

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

You find yourself all giddy the next morning when you’re at the Gojo estate, trying your best to pay attention to your boss. Mrs. Gojo is trying on a dress, trying to see if it’s the best fit for the charity event that’s coming up– You remember it being two months away, but she begins to prepare for it now. 

Working for her has been a delight since you don’t have to do much around. She wants you to stay away from Satoru. However, she called up this weekend for this. She tugs on the sides of the dress and tells you, “Call the tailor, I spent too much money on this dress to not wear it. Also I need you to send flowers to the Inumaki family and make sure they’re coming.”

And the more time you spend with her, you realize that she’s practically running the company by making sure the connections the family has are intact. The more you do, the more you realize that the majority of people don’t believe Satoru is adept enough to take over his father’s job. He was going to take over the company someday anyway, everyone knew so, you’re not sure why so many people are against it.

It almost makes you feel bad for Satoru, but you don’t. It’d take a lot more for you to feel bad for that man. You hum in response, and write down a reminder for yourself. She lists a bunch of other things that you have to do, and you write each one down, and what she notices from the reflection of her mirror is that there’s a smile on your face, “What is up with you?”

“Um… Nothing, ma’am.” You respond. You watch from the reflection of the mirror as her brows furrow. She walks away from the mirror and grabs her glass of water. She takes a sip of her water before putting it down again.

“What has my son said to you?” She asks, and you’re not sure what she’s talking about since Satoru hasn’t really talked to you. You haven’t even gotten the chance to see him this morning, so you’re not sure why she asks that question.

“I haven’t spoken to him.” You answer, and she wants to believe you. But there’s a reason you have a stupid smile glued to your lips, and she’s certain it’s because of her son.

“Then why are you so smiley today?” And your brows raise. You find yourself confused as to why she thinks her son has to do with your happiness. She should know better than that. Her son has caused you anything but happiness in the past five years. 

“I have a date tonight, it has nothing to do with Satoru.” You end up sharing, which she has no problem believing. Satoru is busy tonight, and she knows that it’s not with you. She won’t pry about your personal life, unless it becomes serious and the man can become her grandson’s possible step father.

“Alright.” She responds, and you worry that she’ll push the subject, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Did you already handle catering?”

“I did.” You answer. She begins to ask about stuff that he has handled, stupid trifling details. You feel as if she’s worrying about the most trivial things. Satoru might be new at this, but he isn’t a complete idiot. “You don’t have to worry about anything, ma’am, your son has it covered.”

“Are you sure he does, though? He’s not a man that seems to care about tiny details, and they’re important. Especially in this world.” She responds, and you know better than to refute that argument. She might be right about the fact that tiny details are important, but she underestimates her son. You’ve seen Satoru work his ass off and he seems to care about every tiny detail, but you aren’t going to waste your breath defending Satoru; you doubt that he’s ever defended you, and you’re not going to risk arguing with Mrs. Gojo for him. “I don’t need you anymore. Do what I told you to, and then you can leave.”

“Alright.” You begin to walk to the door, but you hear her voice which makes you stop in your tracks.

“How’s Ren, by the way?” She asks.

“He’s fine.” You respond. She doesn’t say anything else, which makes you exit the room. When you get to the stairs, you hear your name. But it’s not your boss. Neither of them. You take a deep breath before turning to see Sayo, wearing yoga pants, and a sports bra. She has her ebony hair up in a ponytail, and she’s extremely sweaty– Your eyes are staring somewhere they aren’t supposed to. 

“It’s so nice to see you!” Sayo has a smile on her lips. She has a towel behind her neck and she uses it to wipe off the sweat that’s everywhere. Even without makeup she’s simply stunning. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah…” You answer. Maybe you should ask the same question to her, but you really don’t want to engage in conversation right now. You just want to get home, spend some time with your son, and then get ready for your date. 

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’m going out with Shoko, and I meant to ask you if you wanted to join us.” She says when you don’t say anything else. She doesn’t seem to have too many friends, and you genuinely feel bad for being so cold to her, but you don’t see yourself being friends with Satoru’s wife, especially when you have a son that he doesn’t know about.

“I already have plans tonight, I’m really sorry.” You tell her, and she lightly nods her head. Your eyes fall on the man that’s walking behind her, he’s walking your way. You quickly look back at her and sheepishly smile, “Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah… I’ll talk to Shoko to see what we can set up!” She effortlessly smiles back. Satoru really hit the jackpot with her, and it irks you. You wouldn’t be able to smile so easily while disappointed, and maybe this is one of the reasons she’s ideal for Satoru. She can uphold the image of his family, while you wouldn’t have been able to. She ends up turning on her heel and walking down the hallway to go to her room. She doesn’t acknowledge her husband, and her husband doesn’t acknowledge her when they walk past each other.

You try not to stare at Satoru, turning to walk down the stairs. He catches up to you and walks behind you. You begin to walk towards the front door but he takes the opportunity to speak up since from here he won’t be heard by anyone– Except by you and the workers downstairs, but they all know you have a history together. They literally know more than Satoru himself.

“I know that maybe she isn’t the ideal woman to spend the night with but… She’s trying to be your friend.” Satoru speaks up. You come to a stop, your brows furrowing. You turn to look at him, and try to act unbothered.

“I don’t want to turn your wife down, Satoru, but I do have a date to go to.” You share with him, and his brows raise. His hands go to his pockets and he tries to think of how to respond to that, but he doesn’t have anything to say. Nothing nice at least. Nothing smart.

“Uh… That’s nice to know.” He ends up saying, awkwardly looking elsewhere. Since you have nothing else to say to each other, you end up walking out of the house. His feet are glued to the floor and it takes a lot for him to lift his feet up and walk away.

“I love you, Ren.” You kiss the top of his head, and he doesn’t pay too much attention to you since his eyes are glued to the television. He doesn’t seem to realize that you’re going out tonight, and even if he did, his show is more fun and important than his mother, apparently. “Bye bye, Ren.”

“Bye.” He responds, waving his tiny hand, his head not even facing you. You almost roll your eyes and turn off the screen, but you’d rather have this than him crying. You hug your mother and then walk out of your apartment. Suguru is in the lobby of the building, waiting for you to show up. He offered to pick you up at your door, but you don’t feel like it’s appropriate with Ren being right there– You feel like you’ll owe your son an explanation about everything, and it’s too early for that. You have no idea what’ll result with Suguru.

Your eyes land right on him when you get to the lobby, he’s awkwardly glancing at his phone, and you call out his name to catch his attention. He looks up, putting his phone in his pocket and smiling at you as you walk over to him. He gives you a side hug before you walk out of the apartment building.

“I’m so excited for this.” You confess, and you try your best to suppress just how eager you are to be doing this. Maybe when you were sixteen you had a tiny crush on him, but nothing quite like how you felt for Satoru. Looking at a picture of Suguru would make you giggle and maybe your face would get warm, but you felt your heart skip a beat at a picture of Satoru.

But that’s not you anymore… At least that’s not who you’re trying to be. You can actually trust Suguru, which you hate to think about; thinking that you can’t actually trust Satoru is heartbreaking considering you’ve loved him for so long–

“I’m also really excited.” Suguru says, grabbing your hand as he walks you to his car. Your fingers intertwine, and you have the biggest smile on your face. You don’t even remember when was the last time you held hands with someone that wasn’t Ren, trying to stop the child from running off. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you.” You smile, and you feel your face warm up. You get to his car, to no surprise it’s a rather luxurious car (one similar to the one you have, one that you didn’t buy but your boss). He opens the car door for you, and you mutter another thank you before getting in. Your leg begins to bounce, and you wonder if maybe you are a tad bit nervous. It would be weird for you not to be, you don’t remember the last time you went on a date; additionally, this isn’t Satoru. You’ve only ever dated Satoru. This is the first time that you’re on a date with someone else.

Suguru gets into the driver’s seat and you take a deep breath. He starts the car and begins to drive. For the first minute you’re quiet since you’re visibly nervous– At least you bite your bottom lip, your leg bouncing and you’re looking elsewhere. He clears his throat and he asks, “How’s Ren doing, by the way?”

“He’s fine! He was watching some stupid show when I left and barely paid attention to me.” Your speech comes out a little too fast at first, and it’s hard for him to make out the words but he figures it out. You have to give it a minute to get used to these sudden nerves that overcome you. “He reminds me a lot of Satoru when he was of similar age.”

“Not gonna lie, I forget a lot about the fact that you’ve known Satoru for just as long as I have.” Suguru shares, and you chuckle. Your chuckle turns into an unintentional frown though, and you try to shake the thoughts that come to your head… But you can’t, so you share them with him.

“Not anymore. We’ve lost years of friendship.” You say, and you try to change the subject since you’ve made the conversation awkward. “How are you liking your job so far? How’s your residency going?”

You watch as he smiles, even though he tells you he’s tired. He likes what he’s doing, and you try not to pity yourself. You’re happy for him, you tell yourself that over and over again. You were supposed to be in a similar position and maybe if…

You’re happy for him. You’re happy with your baby boy and what life has given you, even if it isn’t ideal.

“God, she’s stressing me out.” You comment, referring to Mrs. Gojo. You have no idea how you got to this conversation. Slowly you’ve gotten more and more comfortable with each other, and you finally ended up in the topic of your boss who happens to be the grandmother of your son. “She was fine and then she– I don’t know, man. She’s micromanaging every single one of Satoru’s moves, and I’m the one that ends up with double work.”

“She’s always been a nightmare. Every time I have a nightmare she appears in it.” Suguru jokes, which makes you laugh. You have no idea why you were so nervous at first, you haven’t had this much fun in a while. He clears his throat and says, “The hospital I’m working at needs a receptionist, if you’re interested.”

“She pays too well and covers all my costs. As much as I’d love to leave, I don’t think I can.” You respond. “She got me the same car you have but in a different color, and it’s in my name. As stressed as I am, I’m living great.”

“And she paid for it? Shit, sign me up.” Suguru laughs. He proceeds to add, “What do I have to do? Fuck Satoru?”

“Have a child with him too.” You tell him, and he raises a brow and pouts his lips. He takes a moment to think about it.

“Hmm… That’s a challenge, but I’ll figure it out.” You both burst into a fit of laughter. You want to do this again. There’s an awkward moment of silence, and Suguru’s finger begins to tap the table. He has something to say, and you stay quiet so you can hear his question. “Do you… Regret any of it?”

“That’s not a conversation for a first date, is it?” You ask and he mutters an apology. He’s about to change the subject, but you proceed to answer the question, “I don’t regret any of it… Sometimes I think I do but Ren is–”

He loudly begins to cough, and you look at him weird, until you notice his eyes stare behind you. You turn your head, and you roll your eyes seeing the last person that you want to look at right now. He’s with his mother, most likely dealing with some business matters. Satoru doesn’t seem to notice you, his hand going up and waving at Suguru as he approaches your table.

“Hey, Suguru!” You turn back to look at Suguru, hoping that you’ll be able to hide because you’re certain this will be awkward– And it’ll certainly cause problems to arise. 

“Satoru! Hey!” Suguru tries to act like nothing is up, maybe Satoru will just greet him and walk to another table. 

“Don’t mean to interrupt your date, just wanted to greet you.” Satoru says, which is ironic since he doesn’t stop walking until he’s right behind you. Satoru just sees the back of a head, and when he tilts to try and get a look at you, you move so he’s not able to see you. “I hope you have a great–”

It takes him a moment but he remembers that you also had a date. It can’t be you… right? He says your name, and your eyes widen. You turn to look at him, and you swear you can see as his heart drops.

“Hi, Satoru.”

“I–” His brows furrow. He tries to think of what to say, but he doesn’t gather the right words to say. He doesn’t know what he feels. Overwhelming emotions take over, and he doesn’t know how to react.

So he walks away.

[dontopenfairies]

“Do you need your diaper checked?”

“No, I’m okay for now.”

“What was that, honey?”

“I said no,” he says, eyes on the jigsaw puzzle strewn out before him on the dining room table. He lifts a piece and finds its place easily.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been doing this puzzle for two hours straight and you haven’t gotten up for the bathroom at all. I know that pull-up is soaked.”

“Can you get out of my hair for five seconds?” he says, irritated. “I’m making really good progress on this.” He really is, quickly snapping together four more pieces.

“Are we really going to do this today?”

“I’m not doing anything. Except for this puzzle.” He scans what he has so far and swaps around a couple of big pieces. She watches his fingers moving quickly, sliding over the loose pieces and flipping them around, and almost gets distracted. That and the cute face he makes when he’s concentrating…She snaps out of it when he glances up, an angry crease in his forehead. “You’re breaking my concentration! Don’t you have something else to do?”

“You’re being such a brat! I can’t believe you! You’re being very, very bad!”

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all, and snapping together two more pieces. “Wow! That one almost stumped me earlier! Look!” He turns around to show it to her, excited.

“Really? You were just telling me to leave and now you want me to praise you because you’re doing a good job at your puzzle? Come on, get your butt over here. I know you need a change, bad.”

He hesitates, hands on the back of his chair.

“Come on, sweetheart, come over here like a good boy and let me check your diaper. I know you want to hear me call you a good boy.”

“No! I don’t!” He’s blushing. His eyes are looking at the puzzle but his body is still turned towards hers.

“Do you need me to manhandle you?” She comes a little closer, getting ready to lift him out of the chair. She is just a little stronger than he is and she knows this is a sore spot of his.

“No!! I’m coming over.” He stands up slowly and carefully. Oh, yeah. There’s a little round wet patch on his pants on one of his thighs. And as he walks towards her she can see where his pull-up is sagging.

She takes him to the bathroom and pulls his pants down. The pull-up is completely saturated with piss. “Jesus, baby,” she says. “You should have told me sooner.”

“Why is that my job?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

“Dude, really? Did you want me to check you by force every half-hour? You’re an adult man pissing himself on purpose and I’m changing your literal diapers, and you’re this ungrateful? Hands on your head, right now.”

He obliges immediately, knowing that he’s gone too far. She yanks the pull-up down and slaps his wet ass roughly. And again. And again, until it’s completely red and raw. He’s silent during the entire ordeal but when she turns him around and eases his hands off his head he has tears on his cheeks. It can’t be all bad, though, otherwise he wouldn’t also be sporting a huge erection.

“Aw, baby,” she says, roughing his hair and standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “It didn’t hurt that bad, did it?”

“No, mommy,” he says quietly.

“Let me wipe your eyes. Then I’m going to wipe you up down here. Does that feel better? I’m going to get you a new, clean pull-up.”

“You didn’t say it yet.”

“What was that?” She looks over her shoulder, hands in the diaper drawer.

“You said if I agreed you’d call me, um…”

Ohhh. That’s right. Wouldn’t it be fun to play dumb and make him say it? “What was that? I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey. I said I’d call you something?”

He fidgets with his collar, looking down, while she stands in front of him with the fresh pull-up. “Um, yousaidyoudcallmeagoodboy,” he says very quickly, looking away.

“Ohh, that’s right, I did. But even when you followed me into the bathroom, you still talked back to me. Are you ready to be a good boy now?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Okay,” she says. “Step into this, honey.”

“Wait…can I go poop first, please? I really need to.”

“Okay, go to the toilet. I’ll wait right here.” She crosses her arms but he looks at the toilet with a weird expression, like suspicion. “What?”

“Um, that’s going to hurt. Um, sitting down…”

“Ohh, right. Yeah, it’ll hurt. Are you gonna go?”

He starts twisting his shirt between his hands very fast. “I was wondering, if, maybe, um, just this once, I could poop in the pull-up?”

“Sweetheart…Okay, fine. You can go poop in the pull-up. Help me get it on you.” He tries to hide his excitement as she slips the pull-up up his legs and makes sure it’s snuggly on his hips. “Squat over the floor.” She points a finger down and he obeys, wrapping his arms around her legs. “Now go poop in your pull-up.”

His face scrunches and she hears a crackling sound from the diaper. “Umf,” he groans.

“Are you finished?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Stand up. I want to see the damage so far.” The pull-up has a huge lump in the back and is wet from where he involuntarily pissed himself while pushing. She wraps a hand around the lump and shakes it a little. “That’s not a very big log,” she says.

“There’s definitely more,” he says. “I really need to go.”

“Can you finish standing up?”

He nods and braces himself on the counter, and then she watches as his pull-up expands to its limit, a huge, hefty log pushing against it. Holy fuck, that’s hot, she thinks to herself as he groans again.

“I’m all down now,” he says.

“Good boy,” she says, wrapping her arms around him and ruffling his hair again. “Come on back to your puzzle. I’m going to put a stack of towels down on your chair so you can keep working for a little while without worrying about leaks, because there’s no way I’m changing you again so soon. Besides, that’ll feel better than sitting on the hard chair right after a spanking.”

“What!! You expect me to sit in a—“

“At-tat-tat,” she says, shaking a finger.

“Sorry. Thank you for changing me, mommy. And thank you for letting me go number two in my pull-up.”

“Good boy. Let’s go back to the table.”

[gothcsz]

I can't stop thinking about reader being an overworked secretary, always so uptight, on the edge and Javi teases and mocks her about it all the time, is slightly mean, making the days insufferable for her until one day she breaks for him and Javi pounds all that stress out of her until she cries ♡

your beautiful mind, anon. i hope you enjoy this 🖤

tags: unprotected p in v sex, semi public sex (parking garage), dirty talk, javier has a big dick, hate fuck kind of, era typical sexism/misogyny, dubcon, no use of y/n, reader doesn't like javi at all but that doesn't stop her from fucking him, crying during sex, javi's cuffs make an appearance, unbeta'd, if i missed anything let me know thx. ~ 2k w/c

You’ve had it. Swear to god, if you have to sit in this uncomfortable chair, type up some useless report, or fetch another goddamn cup of coffee— you might just explode. 

Get an office job, they said. Secretarial work is easy and less fast paced than what you’re used to. So how come you haven’t seen a day of peace since you started working here?

Every agent in the office sees you as nothing more than the eye candy that gets the signatures they need for their dick measuring contest-esque operations. They don’t take you seriously, they flirt as if HR doesn’t exist, and worst of all— they patronize you like your head is full of air. Like there’s nothing between your ears.

Snickering behind your back, hushed whispers and tapered conversations when you enter the room, purposefully dropping things by your desk just to watch you bend over to pick them up.

The only one that treats you somewhat like a normal human being is Steve Murphy, and that’s only because he’s married. But even then, he barely keeps his colleagues from fucking with you.

Especially his partner— Javier Peña, whose reputation preceded him. You were getting warnings about the agent before you even touched down in Colombia. His affinity to fuck anything in a skirt. The unorthodox practices he indulged to gather intel. A playboy. A womanizer. How the fuck he manages to not get fired is beyond you, really. 

Especially with all the sexual harassment workshops that the office has to endure. Now you’re wondering if there’s so many of them because the asshole with the mustache can’t keep his hands to himself.

He’s no better than the rest of them, either. The flirting to get his paperwork further up the chain, asking you to go out for drinks after work, in which you decline because you’d rather be caught dead than tipsy enough to take a ride on the Peña express, chastising how ‘uptight’ you are and offering to help you relieve some of that stress.

My stress stems from assholes like you— the ones that treat women like sexual objects rather than people.

No matter how handsome or suave he is; the man is dick and apparently you rejecting his advances multiple times does nothing but fuel him to stay persistent.

Which blows your mind. You’ve seen the informants that stop by to ask for him, the women that approach him at office parties— he’s a total babe magnet. Why does he waste his efforts on you— the secretary?

You let out a frustrated groan, not giving a fuck if you get written up for leaving early today. It’s Friday, the office is dead, and if you’re approached one more time by any of these arrogant, good for nothing agents; you will get mouthy and possibly even land a bitch slap.

The gag is, you’re usually good under pressure… something about being surrounded by men like them all day just frayed your nerves like no other.

Gathering your things, you damn near book it down the hall, then elevator, until you’re in the parking garage and fumbling for your keys.

You’re so honed in on getting the fuck out of there that you don’t notice that not one— but two of your tires are as flat as pancakes and that, unfortunatley, is what tips you over the edge.

“God fucking damn it. Fuck this car, fuck this place, fuck everyone in this stupid,” you kick the tire, “fucking,” another kick, “building.” The last kick is misplaced and your toe digs uncomfortably into the pointed tip of your heel which has you cursing the heavens even more and bringing exasperated tears to your eyes.

Will you ever catch a fucking break?

And it’s like the universe is having a good ‘ol laugh, probably because you’ve just cussed it out, because a familiar jeep rolls by— being driven by the aviator wearing, habitually unbuttoned shirt adorning, smug jerk that is the root of your frustrations.

“Having car problems, nena?” He speaks to you from the rolled down window, perpetual smirk on his pouty lips as he eyes your flat tires then your rigid figure.

“Fuck off, Javier.” You turn from him, not wanting for the tears in your eyes to be noticed; but again, this motherfucker is persistent if anything, and he parks in the empty spot next to yours, cutting the engine and hopping out to join you.

“There’s that dazzling attitude. Things like this wouldn’t happen if you just smiled every now and again.”

Your hands curl into fists, sharply turning to face him, your face hot.

“Why the fuck do you always have to do that? Huh? You and everyone else— treating me like I’m beneath all of you—”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re beneath—”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You exclaim, chest heaving, “I can’t even fucking talk without getting cut off. Nothing I say or do matters to any of you pricks. Not unless I’m bent over, picking your shit off the floor or running around like a headless chicken fulfilling your coffee orders. The weaponized incompetence, t-the unwanted advances; I’m more than that— more than anything you all think I am. I hate this fucking job, I hate all you government assholes and I’m half tempted to quit but I can’t because I’m stuck here!”

You hadn’t noticed how close you two had gotten during your outburst, standing toe to toe with him. His brows pull into a frown, lips turned downward beneath his stache as he turns over your words.

“You really need to get laid.”

You snap, you do. Your fist coming up to sock him square in the jaw, which surprises him but you don’t stop. Landing blows wherever you can, kicking him repeatedly.

Javier lets you get a few hits in before he exerts his strength and grabs your wrists, dragging you over to his jeep and pressing your chest flat against the cool surface, the force of it leaving you breathless.

“Let go of me!” You squirm in his grasp but all he does is tighten his grip on you.

You don’t know if it’s because emotions are high and there is some truth to his words, but you feel the static of arousal at the base of your spine, your thighs tensing at the position in which he has you in.

“You know how to land a punch. Should get you out into the field. Maybe some excursion would calm you the fuck down.”

With both your wrists in one of his large palms, he uses the other to grab his cuffs and you don’t realize it until you’re restrained and your eyes widen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing—”

“I’m giving you what you need, sweetheart.” His statement is laden with suggestion, tinged with lust. You look around the empty parking lot and how convenient that you’re both parked way in the corner, far from the elevator or any wandering eyes.

This is a bad idea. What you’ve been actively avoiding since you started. But fuck, are you pissed off and tired and you won’t lie— there is some appeal to getting your brain screwed out of your head after being screwed day after day in the office. 

Your resolve drops and you turn off your logical thinking, giving yourself over to Javier completely. 

“Then give it to me before I change my mind.”

Those words spur him into action, gun calloused hands bunching your skirt up around your waist, ripping your stockings and you gasp, heart beating wildly in your chest. His fingers work themselves into your panties, dragging along the wet seam of your cunt and your forehead falls against the exterior of his car, eyes fluttering close at how good it feels.

“So wet. Knew this little pussy needed to be taken care of. Don’t worry, reina, I’m going to make you feel so good,” he rubs your clit in slow, tight circles and you bite your lip. “Make you feel appreciated.”

Spreading your wetness, he slips two of his thick fingers into your tight cunt and you moan out his name, feeling so full. Much better than when you do it on your own.

He fucks you with his fingers, pressing himself fully against you and you can feel his hard bulge digging into the small of your back and that only heightens your arousal. His surprisingly soft lips are kissing along the back of your neck before he’s licking at your ear lobe, whispering how good you feel clenching around his fingers.

You come undone in record time, whimpers spilling past your lips and you’re not usually one to enjoy the fingering aspect of foreplay but goddamn— Javier is good. You can at least confirm that half the rumors about him are true.

It all happens so fast after that, him kicking your legs to spread wider, tugging your panties down to your thighs before he’s undoing his belt, releasing his hard cock from those tight jeans, spitting into his hand and using the mix of your release and his saliva to lube him up as he strokes himself one, two times before he’s lining himself up at your weeping entrance.

Your forehead remains pressed to the car, pussy fluttering in anticipation of being filled by a man you can’t stand.

He feeds you his cock in one swift motion, causing you to jerk forward and yelp loudly, the stretch of him inside your tight cunt burns as much as your hatred for him.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes as he begins to set a deliciously brutal pace. His hips snap against the back of your thighs, the flesh of your ass rippling with each thrust.

“Puta madre, nena, this pussy is so fucking tight.” He grits through clenched teeth, fingers digging into your waist, fucking you so good that you’ve lost your ability to speak.

All that flows from you are needy moans and broken sobs. The obscene sound of your pussy squelching, skin meeting skin, echoes through the parking garage and you forget how exposed to the public you are but you really can’t bring yourself to care at the moment; not with how good this man is giving it to you.

Your needy pussy takes and takes, walls pulsating around his thick cock— each time she spits him out, the creamy evidence of your arousal smears all over his shaft and this has him smirking, large palm coming down to spank you.

“Fuckin’ creaming all over me, baby. Knew you wanted this. Needed it so bad. This dick is gonna calm you down, won’t have you acting like such an uptight bitch anymore.” 

You gasp, both at his words and the sting from the spank, eyes snapping open as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder to the best of your ability, shooting him the best disdainful glare you can muster despite being rendered damn near immobile by his big dick.

“F-Fuck off,” though the bite in your words is fucking toothless as your legs tremble and your orgasm begins to sneak up on you, starting at your neglected clit which is pulsating— begging to be played with.

As if reading your fucking mind, he slips one hand around you, pinching the raw flesh between his thumb and pointer fingers, rolling it around, causing your hips to inadvertently snap back against him.

“Oh, you like that. Can feel how good she’s grippin’ me when I play with your pretty little clit. You gonna come all over me, muñeca?”

His lips are at your ear, spitting more filth out and those tears from before have messed your eyeliner and mascara up, dark streaks painting your cheeks. Your head falls back against his shoulder, the entire world around you looking like a hazy filter has been applied over it as you succumb to the orgasm being given to you by none other than Javier Peña.

“J-Javi I’m gonna…” he continues to toy with your clit, cock pistoning into you even harder as his other hand leaves your hips and moves up to wrap itself around your throat.

“That’s right baby, let loose for me, sweetheart.”

He tightens his grip around your neck at the same time that he delivers a harsh slap to your pussy which has you screaming his name, the walls of your cunt squeezing his cock as your cum coats the velvety skin of him. He grunts in your ear, fucking you through your climax before he pulls out and tugs at his dick, spurts of his milky spend landing across the soft skin of your ass.

You’re both left a panting, heaving mess. Sweat mixes with your tears, your poor pussy swollen and sensitive, feeling his warm cum dripping down from your round cheeks to the back of your thighs. 

“Uncuff me.” You demand, not wanting to drown in the euphoria of how he’s just made you feel, opting for that post nut clarity that grounds you back to the shitty situation that led to these coital activities. 

He scoffs, “Just got fucked stupid and you’re back to being like this.” He tucks himself back into his pants, reaching for the keys to the cuffs and releasing you from them.

You rub at your wrists, taking your panties off and using them to clean your mixed release off you as best as you can. “It’s almost like good dick wasn’t the key to fixing all my problems. Who would have thought?” You quip sarcastically, using the back of your hand to wipe away the tears and ruined makeup, knowing you look like a goddamn mess right now.

You take your ruined stockings off and fix your skirt, really not wanting to do the walk of shame by going back to the office to call someone to help you out with your tire problem, but you must.

“How are you getting home?” He asks, running his fingers through his hair, standing almost awkwardly before you and you narrow your eyes.

“None of your business.” You state, pushing past him to grab your purse and keys, talking yourself up to march back to your desk and call for a mechanic.

“Let me help,” he offers and you chuckle dryly. 

“You’ve done more than enough. No thanks.” You begin to walk past him and towards the elevator but he stops you by grabbing you by your forearm.

“I’m serious. It’s the least I can do.” His eyes soften, and it’s in this moment that you realize how warm they are. A beautiful shade of brown, the shape of a baby cow’s with dainty lashes that compliment them perfectly.

Nu-uh, snap out of it. This is how you get hooked.

“No, the least you can do is leave me the fuck alone, Javier. You got what you wanted.” You snatch your arm back, glaring at him, before strutting off back into the building. 

[transmascissues]

12 weeks post-top surgery thoughts

most importantly, i’m absolutely fucking in love with how things look! it’s still not set in stone yet, my surgeon said i won’t really see the final result until up to a year after, but I’m so happy with it already.

my surgeon’s default timeline would’ve had me starting scar tape at 4 weeks, but i still haven’t started yet because some little scabs are still hanging around even though most of my scars are completely healed. my surgeon didn’t seem concerned about it taking longer than expected, she just said everyone’s body is different. given that i have a connective tissue disorder and skin that just hates being messed with at all, i’m not surprised that it’s been slow going and i’m just happy that the rest is healing so well. i just had another post-op today and was cleared to start using scar tape because the scabbing is so minimal at this point, so i can finally move on to the next stage of healing.

i can (mostly) lift my arms now! they still can’t quite go all the way up, but i have enough of my mobility back that the only things i really struggle with are super high shelves like the ones above my fridge, and things like the washer and dryer that i have to reach really far to get into. technically, i was supposed to wait six months before raising them because that’s what my surgeon usually recommends for aesthetic purposes, but i have to be able to raise them to do my job anyway so i’m not limiting myself beyond the natural limits of discomfort at this point.

my chest muscles are mostly back to normal too, but they’re still very sensitive. when i flex them, it doesn’t hurt or feel uncomfortable but i am a lot more aware of the feeling than i was before. they also still tire out more easily than they used to — i’m back at work now, and i’ve learned the hard way that i tend to favor one arm over the other for certain tasks because when i do any of them for too long, i start to feel it in that side of my chest. it’s not anything too bad, but i’m still making sure my shifts are spread out because i don’t want to risk overdoing it.

i’m getting used to touching my own chest, but being touched by other people still feels super weird and honestly uncomfortable at times, particularly when it’s my bare chest and not over my shirt. i’ve been touching it a lot to try to desensitize it since around week 3 or 4, and it seems to be working as far as my own touch, but other people is a whole other story — when my boyfriend is touching my bare chest and their hand touches the scars, it doesn’t actually hurt but i react to it like it does. i suspect it’s more of a mental thing than anything, that since i’m still instinctively protective of it and not quite used to how it feels, touches that i’m not in control of just automatically set off alarm bells. it’s also just a generally foreign feeling even without the weirdness of healing because my boyfriend never really touched my chest before surgery since i was dysphoric about it, so it seems to require desensitization on multiple levels. i’ve given them permission to keep touching it even when i flinch (unless i explicitly ask them to stop) because i want to make sure i start getting used to the feeling.

i’m also still very sensitive to pressure against my chest, especially the front of it. it’s getting easier to lie down on my side now but i’m still using my body pillow to take some pressure off of the scars under my armpits, because if i don’t i usually can only stay in that position for a little while. my boyfriend can mostly lay their head on my chest for short periods of time now, but the position matters because if the weight isn’t distributed evenly enough or if it’s on the wrong part of my chest, it hurts. that being said, less intense pressure on the front like a hug or holding something to my chest is pretty much fine, i’m just still more sensitive to it (as with everything). i’ve been able to lay face down on top of my boyfriend a couple times without discomfort too, but i’m still erring on the side of caution and not laying on my chest too much yet.

when i was around a month in and thought i would be starting scar care soon, i was really nervous about it — particularly about the scar massage — because of the state my chest was in. i still didn’t feel like i could press on it or move the skin around or pick it up with my fingers at all, and the scar tissue underneath was still really thick and firm. i assumed that all of that would stay the same until i did the massages to break down the scar tissue and loosen things up, but i can now confirm after another month and a half of doing nothing while things healed, my skin is naturally a lot more mobile and a lot of that really thick scar tissue has already broken down. obviously i’m still going to start massaging now because i want to give myself the best possible chance of healing well, but i wish i had known how much my chest would be able to bounce back on its own. in hindsight, i’m glad i ended up having to wait to start the massage instead of doing it back when my chest was much less healed, because i’m much more comfortable manipulating it now.

every once in a while, i’ll get sharp pains in my chest. they aren’t horribly painful, mostly just unpleasant. they feel a lot like the nerve zaps i was getting earlier in recovery so it might be another round of nerves reconnecting, but it also happens more often when i’m working so it’s hard to say if it’s nerves or over-exertion. either way, i always make sure to take it easy when i start to feel that, just in case it is a sign of me doing too much.

i typically almost never eat meat, but i chose to reintroduce it into my diet after surgery to get more protein, because i wanted to make sure my body had everything it needs to heal and protein is a huge part of that. now that i’m pretty much all healed skin-wise and just waiting for everything to settle, i’ve decided it’s time to go back to my usual diet of not-fully-vegetarian-but-pretty-damn-close. i’m sure the diet change wasn’t strictly necessary but i don’t regret doing it, though i am glad to be switching back now.

putting on shirts still hasn’t gotten old. seeing how they look over a flat chest honestly feels surreal, but in the best way. hugging people and being able to press all the way into it js also still such a great feeling. i’m far enough in now that i can do all of that stuff without worrying about it, but still early enough that it all feels really new and special, and i’ve been thoroughly enjoying that.

wearing a more genderfucky outfit out in public for the first time post-op was a fucking blast. my boyfriend and i went to a new year’s eve party, and getting to show off my chest through a sheer lace top and my facial hair alongside makeup was so much fun. it was the first time i’ve been able to go all out without the lingering feeling in the back of my mind that dressing up means inevitably being seen as a woman. i definitely didn’t look like a cis man to any of the people who saw me, but they could clearly tell i wasn’t a cis woman at the very least, and knowing that made me so much more confident.

i’m far enough away now from being in the trenches of early recovery that the reality of the fact that i got such a big surgery has started to fade. when i really think about the fact that my body went through all of that and about how hard early recovery was, it doesn’t quite feel real anymore. i’m starting to reach the point one of my friends told me about, where my chest being like this feels so normal that it’s just like “yeah, of course, it’s always been like this, right?” it’s wild, really, the difference a couple months can make — it wasn’t that long ago that i was exhausted and arguably depressed from the early recovery process, and now it all feels so normal that i have to remind myself it took all of that to get here. i never really doubted that it would be worth it in the end, but i’m still more sure of that now than i ever have been.

the last couple months have been a long road, but somehow they’ve also flown by. it’s given me so much appreciation for my body — its potential to transform and what it’s been able to withstand. i wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.