#which will maybe pay for dinner and breakfast
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hotchocolateandpillowforts ¡ 2 years ago
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The husband and I have one night in this amazing hotel that he booked to celebrate my birthday. We both work on the actual day and today's the only day we have off together between now and then.
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on-the-clear-blue ¡ 8 months ago
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Original idea coming from @the-witchhunter and then added on to by many others.
Dead Man's Diner
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Danny was tired okay? It may very well be his own damn fault but he can't keep waking up during daylight hours, while yes, he can fully be up and sitting at a desk, the likelihood of him waking up getting shouted at by his boss for sleeping on the job was astounding.
So at 19 years old, freshly jobless, Danny said Fuck it and moved away from Amity Park, Valarie was more than willing to handle the few ghosts that still came through the portal since he became the King.
You might be wondering, why isn't Danny filthy rich and rolling in it as the ghost king? Two words, the Observants.
Those flouting eye bastards had moved in and said that unless he was the king full time, he was unable to access the vaults of the Infinite Realms.
So once again, 19, freshly jobless and wanting to get out of Gotham? Danny was very lucky to have friends that love him far to much, Sam and Tucker both pitched in to move him out to where they had chosen to do collage.
*Gotham* oh Sam was in love with the place, the architecture, the people, (and maybe a certain green supervillian that was determined to make the city better) and Tucker was obsessing over being in the same city as Wayne Enterprises, trying his best to get into their internship program by his own merit rather than just hacking himself into it.
And Danny? He was loving it for a slightly different reason.
While the death rate was unfortunately high in Gotham, that also meant that the amount of passive ectoplasim generated by the deaths was massive, it was almost as rich as back in Amity Park with the portal into the ghost zone!
(Oh and the many job opportunities but Danny was a little less worried about that.)
---
Letting out a sigh, Danny scrubbed at his eyes as he leaned back into his chair, another job he had to turn down due to it being shady as all get out.
4 hours and he was getting payed 200 bucks? Major criminal vibes from that...
Taking a moment to get himself balanced, Danny leaned back and looked to the clunky laptop that Tucker had given him, it was modified to hell and back, so it still ran quickly, but it sure as he'll wasn't pretty.
Clicking on yet another job listing, Danny paused as he felt a shiver run down his spine, and a blue mist pass through his lips, blinking, he twisted around to look at the spare room of Sam's apartment, Ghosts tend not to get close enough to him to trigger the ghost sense in Gotham...
Seeing nothing, Danny turned back to his laptop only to find a piece of paper stuck to the screen with tape, freezing at first, the dark haired man sighed deeply, peeling it off he held it close as he read it.
[Help wanted at Big C's Dinner! Looking for a night cook that knows their way around a kitchen!]
There was a few more lines that Danny's eyes skimmed over, picking up the location that it was at, it even had a decent pay, but he paid more attention to the scribbled on note at the bottom of it.
[Daniel, head to this place at 12 am tonight. While the Observants said that you may not touch a single coin in your vaults, they side nothing of your properties.]
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So Danny knows how to handle himself, he has fought many, many people and still came out half alive, but even he felt a little on edge coming down to the railroad tracts in Gotham, because apparently that was were Big C's dinner was at...which he apparently owned? Clockwork works in mysterious ways that Danny was so done trying to figure out.
Stepping up to a bit of abandoned tract, he blinked a few times at the site of Big C's.
It was a decent sized Dinning Car, with a ramp that attached itself to a proper street, it had peeling green paint and dirty white accents with charming rusted steel connecting it to the tracts, the only thing new looking on it was a bit banner stretched across it, stating the name "BIG C'S ALL DAY EVERY DAY BREAKFAST CART! OPEN 24/7!"
The windows were close off by tinted yellow blinds, but he could still see light coming through them. Stepping up the ramp Danny felt the cart under him shudder and something inside of him fluttered, and by the time he was opening the door he could feel the reason why.
The very cart was *alive*, taking a quick breath, Danny could practically taste the energy from it, there was a buzzing undercurrent of excitement that rung through the whole cart.
A little unprepared for his, Danny just smiled warily, "Uhh, hey there? Anyone around?" In response to his words the cart shuddered, the blinds dancing up and down and he could hear the squeel of the wheels.
"O-okay then, um my name is Danny Fenton...Clockwork sent me?" There was another flapingnof the blinds, and the small wooden flap that let people into the back lifted up suddenly before clacking down loudly.
Taking a steadying breath, Danny slipped through the bar and into the back.
It was surprisingly clean and orderly, the stove and fryer looked over than his parents but well maintained, the flat top was perfectly scrubbed and was already heating up.
As Danny looked around, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine, looking around once more, Danny fell into a fighting position as he spotted the figure of a familiar foe
"Lunch Lady? Aren't you a little far from home? What did your order of fist not come in?" The bright rings of light around Danny's waist swirled into life as he went into his ghost form.
He got a thrilling grin from the older apparition, but she only crossed her arms, "While we can tumble later little King, Lord Clockwork sent me personally, said you need a bit of help learning how to cook? And ain't nobody better slinging food than me, dead or alive!"
---
Down in the dripping depths of the cave system deep under Gotham, one Bruce Wayne, still in his Batsuit sat in front of the Bat Computer, eyes glaring at a map of Gotham.
He had been tracking a strange energy pattern that made its way through Gotham, he had first thought it was some sort of layline, but the more that he tracked it the more he realized it was closer to watching a person's walking patterns, sometimes following roads, and sometimes crisscrossing through streets and alleyways.
But tonight that power signal tripled in size, off-putting energy that Bruce hadn't seen it done before, tapping the com on his ear, he spoke clearly "Nightwing, take Red Robin and investigate the coordinates I am sending the both of you, observe it, I just got a massive spike in an energy at that location."
There was silence for a moment before the com crackled and his sons responded "Got it B! Me and RR needed a little time together huh Babybird?"
There was a quiet hum from Tim, before the teen spoke "On route Batman, after this I am heading in, we have a meeting with a suspect in the morning B, Vlad Masters has been poking around Gotham."
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cloudyluun ¡ 26 days ago
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The Cost of Keeping You | ceo!harry
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Summary: Working for Harry Styles—CEO of Styles Enterprises and unofficial tyrant of the twentieth floor—was never Y/N’s dream. But rent waits for no one. She can handle his cold glares, biting remarks, and soul-sucking silence. Until one day, she can’t. After a brutal insult that hits too close to home, Y/N walks out with her head high and her heart bruised. Harry? He pretends not to care. Until he does.
Now, months later, Harry finds himself unraveling in the quiet she left behind—and he’ll have to decide if he’s ready to face the mess he made… and the woman he might’ve lost forever.
A/N: This fic (based on this request) is for the girlies who love their men mean, miserable, and emotionally repressed 💅 If you’ve ever daydreamed about quitting your toxic job with a dramatic one-liner and having your jerk of a boss realize he’s in love with you months later? Yeah. This one’s for you.
Pour a glass of wine, light a candle, and prepare for CEOrry to suffer
Word Count: 6,6k
Warnings: 
Verbal/emotional mistreatment in the workplace (from Harry)
Power imbalance (acknowledged & explored)
Burnout / stress / overwork
Angsty emotionally stunted man
Soul-crushing insult that will make you gasp and clutch your pearls
Groveling (delicious)
Optional heartbreak depending on chosen ending
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
She never planned to stay this long.
The job was supposed to be temporary—a stopgap while she figured things out. Rent in the city wasn’t kind, and freelance gigs didn’t always pay on time. When she landed the executive assistant position at Styles Global, she told herself she’d give it six months. Just enough time to build some savings, maybe line up something closer to her skill set. Something less soul-sucking.
That was two years ago.
Now, she moved through the sleek glass hallways like a ghost in heels, always present, always poised, and always one misstep away from being on the receiving end of another of Harry Styles’ famously cold tirades.
To the rest of the office, he was a legend. A force of nature. They called him “Hurricane Styles” behind his back, though most were too afraid to say it above a whisper. He had built the company from nothing, turned every risk into a win, turned bloodless strategy into an art form. Investors adored him. Board members feared him. And employees? They tried not to make eye contact.
She knew the rules. Never speak unless spoken to. Never offer ideas—he’d either steal them or shoot them down just to remind you who had the power. And never, ever expect gratitude. Harry didn’t say thank you. He said “Fix this.” He said “Again.” He said “Why is this taking so long?”
She’d learned early on not to take it personally. The key was to treat it like weather. Unpleasant, unpredictable, but not about her. She could withstand a storm. She just hadn’t realized how long this one would last.
By month three, she had his routines memorized—his preferred coffee order (black, no sugar, 8:04 a.m. sharp), how he liked his reports formatted (12-point font, single-spaced, no cover page), the names he forgot during meetings (which was most of them). She kept his world running so smoothly that no one noticed the machinery behind it.
That was the way he liked it.
Still, some days, she couldn’t help but feel like she was slowly disappearing. Her friends stopped inviting her out after she bailed on too many Friday dinners. Her fridge was stocked with takeout containers she barely remembered ordering. She ate lunch at her desk, dinner on the train, and sometimes forgot breakfast entirely. Sleep came in fits. Her eyes were ringed in fatigue, her jaw clenched more often than not.
But she showed up. Every morning, polished and precise, like clockwork.
And Harry treated her like she was interchangeable.
“This font is wrong,” he’d say, flipping the folder back toward her without looking up.
“It’s the one you asked for.”
“Well, it’s wrong now.”
He never looked her in the eye unless he was correcting her. He never said her name unless it was followed by a command. Some days, she wondered if he even knew anything about her beyond what was in her HR file.
But she didn’t crack. Not outwardly. She met his coldness with calm, his dismissals with measured silence. Let him feel like he had the upper hand. That was how you survived here. She wasn’t trying to win him over. She was just trying to stay standing.
That morning started like any other. Rain slicked the pavement outside the 52nd Street building. She beat him to the office, as usual, lights already on, coffee already waiting. She sat at her desk just outside his door, skimming through emails, flagging the ones that needed his attention, deleting the ones that didn’t. Her phone buzzed. Another meeting pushed back. She adjusted his calendar accordingly.
“Morning,” came a voice from behind her.
She looked up. Theo, one of the junior project managers, stood there holding a report.
“Hey,” she said, managing a small smile.
He lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, I think you might actually be a wizard.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“No, seriously,” he said. “The guy’s a nightmare, but you—you handle him like it’s nothing. You’re the only one who can.”
She snorted under her breath, shaking her head. “Trust me. It’s not magic. It’s caffeine and pure survival instinct.”
“I still think you deserve a raise. Or hazard pay.”
She didn’t say anything, just turned back to her screen. But the compliment—simple, sincere—sat heavy in her chest like a secret. She couldn’t remember the last time someone said something nice to her in this building.
Behind her, the door creaked open.
Theo straightened instantly. “Morning, Mr. Styles.”
Harry didn’t respond. Just walked past them, into his office, and shut the door with that sharp, final click that always made her stomach knot.
She went back to work. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Then—
“Y/N.”
His voice, clipped and cold.
She stepped into his office, notepad in hand.
He didn’t look up from his screen. “Why did I just overhear you chatting with one of the junior staff?”
She blinked. “He had a report you needed to see. He also—”
“—was wasting your time,” Harry cut in, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes were unreadable. “You’re not here to make friends.”
Her jaw tensed. “I wasn’t.”
He stood then, slow and deliberate, walking around his desk until they stood a few feet apart.
“If this,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward her notepad, her schedule, her entire existence, “is your best, then maybe you should stick to fetching coffee. You're not irreplaceable.”
The words landed like a slap. Not loud, not violent—just surgical in their precision. She stared at him, willing herself not to react. Not to flinch.
Instead, she swallowed hard, nodded once, and left the room.
Back at her desk, she sat perfectly still.
It wasn’t the first time he’d belittled her. But this one felt different. It wasn’t just that he was cruel. It was that he’d said it so easily. As if she was nothing. As if all the late nights and early mornings, all the silent sacrifices, all the ways she kept him afloat… meant nothing.
And he hadn’t even thought twice.
She worked through lunch. Didn’t speak to anyone the rest of the day. Just kept her head down, her expression blank, her hands steady. But inside, something had shifted. Something small, but irreversible.
He thought she was replaceable.
He was going to find out how wrong he was.
The next morning, she arrived at her usual time—fifteen minutes before anyone else. The office was quiet, still soaked in early dawn light. The floor-to-ceiling windows reflected a city still rubbing sleep from its eyes. She sat at her desk, logged in, and started moving pieces around on his schedule like nothing had changed.
Except everything had.
Her spine was straighter. Her eyes sharper. She wasn't angry. Not exactly. Anger was too loud, too hot. What she felt was colder, deeper—an indifference blooming like frostbite. She had nothing left to prove. And for the first time, she could see the finish line. She just hadn’t decided when she’d cross it.
Harry didn’t notice at first.
He breezed in just before 8:15, late by his standards, muttering about a traffic delay, waving off the coffee she still—out of sheer habit—had waiting for him. She took notes in a meeting, filed reports, arranged travel for a business trip he wasn’t even sure he wanted to take. It was routine, rote. The same grind she’d mastered over the last two years.
But Harry wasn’t stupid. And despite his best efforts to act otherwise, he noticed things.
He noticed that she didn’t offer him her usual rundown of the day’s meetings. Didn’t preemptively print the documents he’d need before his 10 a.m. Didn’t even ask if he wanted lunch or if she should push back his next call when the morning ran long.
Instead, she moved like a ghost—silent, efficient, detached.
And it irritated the hell out of him.
By the third day of this quiet withdrawal, he found himself pacing behind his desk after everyone had gone, a file open in front of him that he couldn’t bring himself to read. His office was too quiet. The desk outside his door was empty. She’d left promptly at five, like clockwork. No late-night filing, no quiet hum of her music spilling from her earbuds, no light footsteps when she brought him coffee after hours just because she knew he hadn’t eaten.
It wasn’t just her silence. It was her absence, even when she was still here.
The power imbalance he’d once leaned on so comfortably had shifted. And he didn’t know what to do with it.
So, naturally, he got meaner.
It started with nitpicks. “This margin is off.” “You didn’t bcc the right name.” “I said tomorrow, not Thursday.” All minor things—some imagined—but each said with increasing venom.
She didn’t react. Not really. Just fixed it and moved on. Which made him feel even more off-balance.
Then came the mistake.
It wasn’t even a big one. A slide title on the wrong deck. A single date typo buried in a footnote. But it was during a high-stakes pitch meeting—one he was already on edge about. The room was packed: department heads, a few investors, his second-in-command, and of course, her. Standing just to the side, laptop in hand, managing the screen.
He was presenting. She was supporting. It was a rhythm they knew by heart.
Until her voice broke in, gentle but confident. “Just to clarify, that figure includes Q3 projections, not finalized Q2 numbers.”
He turned slowly.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
She blinked. “You mentioned the quarterly report. I just wanted to clarify—”
“I know what I said,” he snapped. “What I don’t understand is why you’re talking like you have any authority to speak in this room.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Someone coughed. A chair creaked.
She stared at him. The warmth drained from her face like a switch had flipped.
He wasn’t done.
“You’re here to run slides and take notes. Not to correct me mid-pitch. If I wanted your input, I’d have asked for it. Stick to what you’re paid for.”
She said nothing. Just nodded once and backed off.
The presentation ended five minutes later, stiff and awkward. As the room cleared, he caught a few sidelong glances, a few too-quiet murmurs. But he didn’t care. He was still buzzing with that adrenaline of dominance, the way he always did after asserting control. It was familiar. Automatic.
But when he stepped into his office and saw her already there, standing near his desk, arms folded, expression unreadable—something in him pulled tight.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
“I just corrected the slide title,” she said. “You had the wrong quarter listed. It wasn’t to embarrass you.”
He shrugged, brushing past her toward his desk. “Then maybe next time you’ll think before you speak.”
She didn’t move. “You know, I’ve put up with a lot. The mood swings. The condescension. The hours.”
He looked up, something cold flashing behind his eyes. “Is there a point to this?”
“Yes,” she said. “There is.”
Her voice was steady. Calm. But there was a crack in it now—a fracture held together by sheer will.
He smiled. But it wasn’t kind. “Do you really think you matter here? You’re just another name on the payroll. Don’t mistake necessity for value.”
That was it.
The final blow.
And this time, she didn’t swallow it. She didn’t blink. She didn’t cry.
She laughed.
It was soft at first. Disbelieving. Then colder, darker—a sound pulled from some place buried deep inside her. It startled him. He hadn’t heard her laugh in weeks. Hadn’t seen her smile, not for real, in even longer.
“You know what, Harry?” she said, her voice low and tired and done. “I hope one day you realize what you lost. Not because I want to be missed. But because I want you to feel it. Just once.”
She reached for her badge. Popped it off. Placed it on his desk like it weighed nothing. Like he weighed nothing.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
She walked out of his office without another word. Past the desk she’d kept too tidy for too long. Past the glass doors. Past the stunned stares of a few late-working staff who turned just in time to see the ghost of Hurricane Styles’ assistant walking away with her head high.
No notice.
No drama.
Just a clean break.
And Harry, still behind his desk, still holding that last insult in his mouth like poison, realized something too late:
He’d finally broken her.
But she wasn’t the one who was going to pay for it.
He was.
Harry’s POV
He told himself he didn’t care.
Said it out loud, even. In his office, to his reflection, to the empty silence that used to hold her soft footsteps and the quiet rustle of papers being filed. He shrugged when Mitch asked what happened, rolled his eyes when Sarah from HR hinted they should reach out—just in case she had any materials to hand over. He waved it all off.
“I’ll find someone better,” he said flatly, sipping the wrong coffee made by a temp who had no idea he hated hazelnut. “She wasn’t indispensable.”
But the lie sat sour on his tongue.
The first week without her was logistical chaos. The temp assistant—two years younger and painfully eager—couldn’t read his tone, couldn’t keep up, and worst of all, kept asking questions. Dumb ones. Obvious ones. Ones she would have known before he even opened his mouth. The schedules were off. Calls missed. A client dinner was double-booked and he had to personally call and apologize.
He hadn’t made a personal apology in years.
By Friday, he’d snapped three pens in half and raised his voice more times than he could count. He barked at the intern for misprinting a memo and nearly slammed the door on Mitch when he came in with a project update.
The tension he used to wear like armor suddenly felt suffocating.
He lasted exactly six minutes in his office on Monday before storming out. The blinds were still half-drawn the way she always left them—just enough light, not enough glare. Her chair was pushed in, perfectly aligned with the desk. Her spare cardigan was gone, but the scent of her lotion still lingered faintly in the air. Clean. Subtle. Warm.
It punched something in his chest he didn’t know was tender.
He moved into the boardroom instead. Set up camp there like a child refusing to sleep in his own bed after a nightmare.
By week two, everyone knew not to mention her name.
He still caught himself pausing at 11 a.m., waiting for the sound of her humming while she filed. She used to hum the same tune when she was stressed—always off-key, always quiet. He never commented on it, never even acknowledged it. But now the silence grated.
So did the coffee.
He tried to make it the way she used to—just once. Burnt the beans. Stained his shirt.
The spiral was slow but steady. Every little thing reminded him of her. The seat in the elevator she used to lean against when they left late. The branded notepad she always carried, filled with tiny, organized handwriting. The pen she once borrowed and never returned—still in his drawer, chewed at the tip, because she had the annoying habit of biting pens when deep in thought.
And then there were the flashbacks.
The kind that crept up when he least expected them—sharp, vivid, unforgiving.
There was the day he’d come in with a migraine, growling at anyone who dared breathe too loud. She hadn’t said a word. Just dimmed the lights, closed his door, and left a cold compress on his desk. He never thanked her. Never even looked up.
Another time, she brought him soup. Chicken and rice. From some little place two blocks over. He hadn’t eaten all day, his voice was raw from back-to-back calls, and when she placed the container down with a quiet “It’s not a big deal,” he’d snapped.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
She hadn’t argued. Just nodded and walked out. But she never brought him soup again.
He should’ve said something then.
He didn’t.
Three weeks after she left, he found her coffee mug still in the back of the cupboard—white ceramic with a tiny chip on the handle. She used to joke that it was her lucky cup, and if it ever broke completely, she’d “take the hint and leave.”
He nearly dropped it.
Instead, he placed it back on the shelf like it was glass-thin, like it could still be salvaged if he just didn’t touch it too hard.
It was around week four when the real punch came.
He wasn’t even looking for it. He was on a news site, scrolling mindlessly, avoiding the stack of files he couldn’t bring himself to organize because no one was around to nag him about deadlines. And then he saw her.
It was a photo embedded in an article—some small piece about a new start-up shaking up the tech world. He wouldn’t have clicked it normally. But her face was there, radiant and easy, mid-laugh. Candid. Honest.
She was standing outside a building he vaguely recognized, arm looped with another woman, both of them holding champagne flutes. The caption said she’d joined the company as their new operations director.
Operations director.
She hadn’t just moved on. She’d leveled up.
And she looked...happy. Not performative, not polite—genuinely alive in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. Her shoulders weren’t tight. Her eyes weren’t dull. She wasn’t tired. She was free.
That was when it hit him.
He didn’t just lose his assistant.
He lost the one person who gave a damn.
The one who saw him—flaws, fury, all of it—and still showed up, day after day. Not because she had to. But because, at some point, she’d cared.
He used to believe fear was the best motivator. That respect was earned through intimidation. That keeping people at arm’s length meant control. He thought he was untouchable.
But the echo of her laugh still lived in these halls.
And her absence was loud enough to shatter glass.
The days dragged after that. He stopped snapping at people—not because he felt better, but because he didn’t feel anything at all. His office was cold. Clinical. The chair outside his door stayed empty most days, the temp too afraid to sit there for long. The entire floor felt off-balance, like the center of gravity had shifted and no one could quite walk straight.
Every time he saw her picture in that article, he stared at it a little longer.
He kept it open in a background tab.
It was pathetic. He knew that.
But it was also the only thing keeping him tethered.
Because if she could move on...then maybe, maybe there was still a sliver of something he could hold onto.
Maybe redemption wasn’t off the table.
But it wouldn’t come easy. And it wouldn’t come fast.
He’d burned that bridge with a blowtorch.
Now the question was whether there was anything left to rebuild.
The first text he sent was short.
Harry: I’m sorry.
No punctuation. No context. Just two words, tossed into the void of read receipts and silence. It stayed unread. A gray “Delivered” glaring back at him from his phone screen for hours, then days. He told himself maybe she changed her number. Maybe she didn’t see it. But deep down, he knew better.
The second message came two days later.
Harry: I didn’t mean what I said that day. I was angry. At myself. Not you.
Still nothing.
Then came the email. He drafted it at 2 a.m., sitting in the same boardroom he’d commandeered as his cave ever since her departure. He read it over twenty times before sending.
Subject: I owe you an apology.
“Y/N,
I��ve rewritten this a dozen times. Nothing feels like enough. I was wrong. About a lot.
You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. You weren’t just efficient, you were essential—to the company, yes, but also to me. I just didn’t realize it until you were gone.
I miss your steadiness. Your patience. Your fucking humming that used to drive me insane and now echoes in my head like a ghost.
I said things I regret. Things I can’t take back. But I need you to know—you mattered. You mattered more than I ever let myself admit.
If nothing else, let me say this to your face. You don’t owe me anything, but I hope you’ll give me five minutes.
H”
It bounced. Full inbox.
She’d blocked his email.
The next step should’ve felt like a line crossed. But he was already halfway through the wreckage of what he’d ruined—what was one more dent to the ego?
He showed up at her apartment building. Waited outside like a fool with a takeaway coffee and a note in his pocket he didn’t dare hand over.
She didn’t come out.
He tried again. And again.
Once, he saw the curtain shift. A shadow behind the glass. But the door never opened. She never came down.
He stood there for fifteen minutes longer than he should’ve, heart in his throat, hands freezing around the paper cup. And when it became clear she wasn’t going to face him, he tucked the note under the doormat and left without looking back.
He never found it there again.
Still, he couldn’t stop.
He checked her company’s press page obsessively. Memorized every project announcement, every update. She looked like she belonged there. Like she was thriving. There was a confidence in her posture that hadn’t existed when she worked for him. Like she finally had room to breathe.
It should’ve made him happy.
Instead, it gutted him.
The opportunity for confrontation didn’t come until six weeks later. It was an industry networking mixer, full of self-congratulatory execs and overpriced cocktails. He wasn’t planning to go, but Mitch had dragged him out—said he’d been a recluse long enough.
He hadn’t expected her to be there.
She wasn’t even in the main ballroom when he saw her—she was out on the terrace, standing by the railing with a drink in hand, backlit by soft string lights and city glow. Her hair was pulled up. Her dress was simple, but elegant. Understated power.
She looked…whole.
For a moment, he froze. Thought about turning around. Maybe he should’ve. But then she turned slightly, laughing at something someone said beside her, and the sound cracked something open in his chest.
So he walked.
His heart thudded with every step. His palms were damp. There were a thousand versions of this conversation he’d rehearsed in his head, but now, with her just a few feet away, he couldn’t remember any of them.
She noticed him before he could say anything. Her smile faded, her gaze hardening into something unreadable.
He stopped a foot away, gave her space. She didn’t move.
“Hi,” he said. Quiet. Careful.
“Harry.” Her voice was calm. Unmoved. The ice in her drink clinked as she swirled it slowly.
He waited. Nothing. No warmth. No invitation.
“I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I know.”
Silence.
“I was awful to you,” he said finally. “I don’t even know where to start—”
“You don’t have to,” she cut in. “You said everything you wanted to the day I quit.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t care.”
It landed like a slap. Clean. Honest. Brutal.
She took a sip of her drink and looked past him, like she was already bored with the conversation. He could see the shift in her—the absence of the girl who used to hesitate before speaking, who used to shrink under the weight of his moods. That girl was gone. This version of her stood taller. Spoke clearer. Didn’t flinch.
And somehow, that made it worse.
“I was scared,” he said. “Of needing you. Of how much I depended on you. I pushed you because I didn’t know how else to deal with it.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “So you punished me because you couldn’t manage your own emotions?”
“Yes,” he said, voice rough. “I didn’t see it then. But I do now.”
She stared at him, the silence stretching thin between them.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he added. “I’m not asking for things to go back to the way they were. I just needed you to know I’m sorry. That I miss you. That losing you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
Something flickered across her face—small, fleeting. A crack in the armor. But it disappeared as quickly as it came.
“You miss the way I made your life easier. The way I knew your schedule, your moods, your coffee order. You miss the convenience.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I miss you. The person. The presence. The way you gave a shit even when I didn’t deserve it. The way you challenged me without ever raising your voice. The way you—” His voice broke. “The way you saw me. Even when I couldn’t see myself.”
A beat of silence.
Then she exhaled. Slow. Controlled.
“I used to think,” she said quietly, “that if I worked hard enough, stayed long enough, you’d see it. That you’d see me. Not just as an assistant, but as a human being.”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
“But I realized,” she continued, “that the problem wasn’t my effort. It was your inability to recognize value unless it screamed. I had to break to get your attention.”
“I know.”
She looked down at her glass. “I’m not angry anymore, Harry. I’m not bitter. I just… don’t want to go back to a place that made me feel small.”
“I don’t want that either,” he said. “If there’s even the smallest chance… I’ll do whatever it takes. Not to get the old dynamic back, but to build something better. On your terms.”
She looked up at him then, really looked at him.
And for the first time, he saw the cost. The weight she’d carried. The cracks she’d had to seal on her own.
“You don’t get to decide when I’m ready,” she said. “If I’m ready.”
“I know.” He stepped back slightly, giving her room. “But I’ll be here. However long it takes.”
She didn’t say anything. Just nodded once, small and measured.
He left her there, under the soft lights, the night cool against his skin.
For the first time, he didn’t walk away with answers. But he walked away knowing something had shifted.
And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.
The days that followed were quiet. Not the suffocating kind he’d grown used to, full of silence and unanswered messages, but the kind that forced reflection. He didn’t try to contact her again. Not right away. He didn’t loiter by her building, didn’t send another desperate email. He’d said his piece. Now, he had to prove he meant it.
That started with his own house.
Literally.
The place was a mess—not just physically, but emotionally. It still looked like it belonged to the version of him she’d left: sharp edges, cold surfaces, and schedules that ran tighter than his jawline used to. So he changed it. Started small. New photos on the wall—ones that weren’t just boardroom snapshots and event galas. He framed one of the office holiday party she’d organized three years ago. The one where she wore a ridiculous headband with blinking lights and somehow still managed to look composed.
He made space in his days that didn’t revolve around profit margins and investor calls. Therapy twice a week, no excuses. He started having actual conversations with his team. Not just directives. Not just performance reviews. Real check-ins. The kind he used to think were a waste of time.
He showed up. And not in the grand, dramatic gestures he might’ve leaned on before. No flowers sent to her new office. No extravagant apologies. Just quiet, consistent effort.
And slowly, word got around.
Mitch mentioned over lunch that she’d heard. That someone on her team had passed along the news—Harry wasn’t the same. He didn’t snap anymore. He listened more than he talked. And most shocking of all, he’d started mentoring junior staff.
“It’s not a magic trick,” Mitch had said, half-smiling. “But people are noticing.”
Still, she didn’t reach out. And he didn’t expect her to. He wasn’t owed anything.
So he focused on what he could control.
Then, one afternoon in early spring, a message arrived. Short. Neutral.
Y/N: Can you talk?
He stared at it for five minutes before replying.
Harry: Anytime.
They met at a quiet café halfway between her office and his. It wasn’t a date. She made that clear in her tone, her posture, the space she kept between them. But she’d come. And that was something.
“You’ve been busy,” she said, sipping her tea.
“I’ve had a lot to make up for.”
“I didn’t reach out because I needed space. I still do. But I’ve been watching. And I see the work.”
He nodded, unsure if it was his place to speak.
“This doesn’t mean anything changes,” she added. “But I want to see if… maybe we can start from zero. Slowly.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Whatever pace you need.”
They didn’t talk much that day. But the door had opened.
Over the next few weeks, they found a strange new rhythm. Occasional texts. Brief lunches. No talk of the past unless she brought it up. He learned to follow her lead, to listen without trying to fix or justify.
It wasn’t easy. He’d built his career on control, on always having the answer. But this wasn’t a boardroom. This was trust—raw, slow-growing, and fragile.
One afternoon, she visited his office. Unannounced.
“I was nearby,” she said, though the tremor in her voice hinted at something deeper. She looked around. The space had changed since she’d last seen it. Softer lighting. Fewer screens. A photo of his niece on the shelf, grinning with a missing front tooth.
“You’ve changed,” she said after a pause.
“I had to.”
“For you?”
“For me. But also because if I hadn’t, I would’ve lost everything. Not just you. Myself.”
She nodded slowly, then held out a folder.
“I’ve been working on something. A proposal.”
He blinked, surprised, then took it. Her name was on the first page. Director of Strategic Initiatives.
“This isn’t you asking for your old job back,” he said, flipping through it.
“No,” she said firmly. “It’s me offering to build something with you. As equals. Or not at all.”
He smiled then. Not the smug, closed-lip smirk she used to hate, but something softer. More real.
“I’d be lucky to have you.”
“You’d be smart,” she corrected.
He laughed, and for the first time in a long while, so did she.
The official announcement went out a month later. She’d accepted the position—but not in his division. She’d have her own team. Her own budget. Full autonomy. And he made it clear, in both the press release and the internal memo, that her success would have his support, not his interference.
Their collaboration started professionally. Emails, strategy meetings, pitch reviews. But something unspoken lingered beneath it all. A current. A history neither of them dared touch—until the night of the fundraiser.
It was raining. Of course it was.
He wasn’t sure if she’d come. It was a high-profile event, black tie, every reason for her to avoid it. But then she walked in.
Black dress. Hair down this time. Calm, confident. She scanned the room and found him almost immediately.
Later, when most of the guests had filtered out and the ballroom was half-empty, she found him on the balcony, staring out into the storm.
“I used to think rain was bad luck,” she said, stepping beside him.
He turned. “And now?”
“I think maybe it just… washes away the noise.”
He watched her for a long moment. Then finally, voice low, he said, “I meant it. Everything I said. That day.. I still mean it.”
She didn’t respond right away. Just looked at him, eyes searching.
“You’re still a bit of a hurricane, Harry.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Then let me be the one to rebuild what I tore down.”
She studied him. The vulnerability. The steadiness he hadn’t had before.
“I don’t need saving,” she said.
“I know. You never did.”
“But I might be ready to build something. Not because I miss what we had. But because I see who you’re trying to become.”
“And who are you?” he asked softly.
She tilted her head. “Someone who won’t settle. Not for less than mutual respect. Not for silence when there should be honesty. Not for anything less than real.”
“Then I’ll meet you there,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”
The moment stretched.
And then, under the city lights and the steady hum of rain, she stepped closer.
He didn’t move. Didn’t assume. Just waited.
She reached up, fingers brushing his cheek. Her kiss was gentle. No heat or desperation. Just truth.
When they pulled apart, she smiled—small, certain.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive everything.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“But it means I see you. And I believe you see me now too.”
He nodded, eyes stinging.
“I always did,” he whispered. “I just didn’t know how to show it.”
She touched his hand, lacing their fingers briefly before stepping back.
“Start with showing up,” she said. “Keep doing that. Day by day.”
“I will.”
And for the first time, he didn’t feel like he was chasing her shadow. He was standing beside her.
Present.
Ready.
This time, they’d build it right.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖
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532 notes ¡ View notes
multific ¡ 1 year ago
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Love Potion
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way.
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His eyes always followed your every move.
You noticed it very early on just how much attention he was paying to you.
His eyes followed you everywhere.
No matter the place, time or occasion.
Let it be class or breakfast or lunch or dinner.
He always had an eye on you.
And you actually didn’t mind.
Mattheo is a very handsome guy. Even if everyone and even your instincts warned you about him, there was still something.
Something which kept you interested.
You felt a pull towards him.
A pull you never acted on.
So, it was mostly longing looks exchanged between you two, nothing more. 
One evening, you were having dinner with your friends.
Hermione talked about Ron and how stupid he was. Then you grabbed a bonbon and popped it into your mouth.
“Y/N NO!” you heard someone say but it was too late.
Amortentia.
Or as they called it, love potion. 
The entire room smelled like him. Amortentia tends to smell like the person you are in love with, you didn’t even realise. 
You were blind.
The room smelled like smoke, honey and wood.
You wanted to see him, kiss him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to eat it!” said one of the Hufflepuffs. “I was meant to prank my roommate!” 
While everyone was talking, you were quick to run off into the backyard of the school.
You had a pretty good idea of where to find Mattheo.
And surely enough, you found him by the trees smoking.
“RIDDLE!” you yelled, making him flinch and almost drop his cigarette.
“Y/N?”
“Kiss me! RIGHT NOW!”
“Are you drunk?”
“Just in love, come on.” you ran over to him, almost making him trip as you came in contact with him.
He grabbed you to save you from falling and this is when he noticed your eyes.
“Were you given something?”
“All I feel is looooove.” you said and smiled.
Mattheo noticed Hermione from the corner of his eyes.
“What happened to her?”
“A Hufflepuff gave her Amortentia.” she explained as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you back.
“Love potion? Why?”
“Forget this happened Riddle!” Hermione yelled back at Mattheo as you waved to him.
“Byeeee Matty!” he lifted his hand and gave you a small wave back. He was utterly confused.
—
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!” you yelled into your pillow once the potion wore off. “Why didn’t you stop me?!”
“I tried!” said Hermione.
“I want to die. I’m so embarrassed. At LEAST he was alone! Imagine if I did that in front of the school!”
“Well… on our way back to our rooms… you kinda… just a tiny little bit yelled in front of everyone passing by that Mattheo is yours and you will fight for your true love… kinda.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. God. No.” you shook your head but she nodded. “NO. PLEASE NO.”
“And… maybe… kinda… The Slytherins were also there? Maybe?”
“I am jumping out the window,” you said as you stood up and walked towards the window, Hermione grabbed your hand and pulled you back. “I want to die, please. This is so embarrassing!”
“The thing is that almost everyone like cheered for you. Malfoy even wanted to give you a high-five for being so brave. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he was for real. Then Theodore came up and said ‘Go get him, Tiger’ They were all cheering you on.”
“So, I’m the laughingstock of the entire school. Lovely.”
You fell back into your bed, face into the pillow. How will you face everyone tomorrow?
—
 “Mattheo Riddle! The lucky guy!” said Theodore as he hit Mattheo in the shoulder. “Having one of the prettiest girl scream and declare her love for you. Lucky you!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend.
Although he couldn’t sleep one bit for the entire night, his mind was way too busy.
“It was only a prank.” Mattheo said. It was the only logical explanation.
“Nope. You know Angie? The Hufflepuff girl? Nevermind… Apparently, she made some chocolate for her friend as a prank, but Y/N ended up eating one and it had Amortentia in it.” Mattheo looked at Theodore, trying to see if his friend was lying but he wasn’t.
“And how do you know that?”
“Angie told her friends and I heard it. They didn’t realize I was standing there. But lucky you, having a girlfriend! Don’t fuck it up tho! Or I might steal her.”
“Piss off.” Theodore laughed as they both entered the class.
Mattheo’s eyes immediately locked with yours. You looked scared as you looked away. He could only imagine how you were feeling.
But he was just as confused and embarrassed.
After classes, you wanted nothing more than to run back to your room and hide from everyone.
No one said a thing. But the looks they gave you, said it all.
You just wanted to get out.
You made it to the hallways when someone behind you called your name.
It was Mattheo, your eyes widened as you quickly darted into the girl’s bathroom.
“Y/N, I just want to talk.”
“Look I’m sorry what happened okay?! Please just forget it.”
Then he opened the door and came into the bathroom as you back away and walked into the sinks. 
“This is the girl’s bathroom what are you doing?”
“I need to know if, what you said is true. Did you mean any of it or was it the potion?”
“I-I.” you wanted to lie, you wish you were a better liar. All you could do was listen to your heart hammer in your chest. 
“So it’s true. What you said is all true… you do lo-”
“OKAY now, please, I’m embarrassed enough, I do not need your rejection, Riddle. Please can you just leave me alone?” you wanted to go into a stall and lock yourself for eternity.
“I thought you hated me.” he suddenly said and you looked at him, shocked. “I was watching you and… you always avoided my looks. Okay, not always but many times.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just agree to grab some butterbeer with me. That could be a start.”
“What?” you were so confused.
“I’m asking you on a date.”
“You are asking me on a date?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked as you turned your body back towards him.
“I thought you didn’t do… dates.” you sounded very nice, you worded it even more nicely.
“I don’t. But with you, I will.”
“So, what? You… like me too? After what I said and did yesterday?”
“It was very cute.”
“Cute? Which part exactly? When I yelled at you to kiss me or when I swore to kill whoever dares to go close to you?”
“Exactly.” he smirked. “I will wait for you, get ready for our date. An hour? Is that enough?”
“Okay. An hour.” he nodded and turned to leave.
You stood there, stunned when a voice behind you made you jump.
“How romantic!”
“Myrtle!”
“You have a date! Go get ready!” she yelled and you listened.
You got ready relatively quickly.
You debated not going, then you decided to give it a try and go.
Then, as you waited by the gates you were prepared for Mattheo not showing up.
Maybe this was his way of repaying you for embarrassing him?
But, he did show up. He did take you out to eat and drink and you did have a good time.
He did walk you back to your dorm and placed a small kiss on your cheek as a goodbye.
He did all that.
And if you only knew it would take a small amount of love potion for you to finally be with him, you would have eaten that piece of chocolate a long time ago. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
4K notes ¡ View notes
priisprii ¡ 2 months ago
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Envy- Jeong Yunho
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Summary: make yunho jealous : Mission accomplished.
Word count:2.3 k
Warnings: mean dom!yunho x female reader, oral (fem recieving) , unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, using panties as gag, dropping L bomb while being balls deep inside you:3
Minors don't interact.
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Jeong Yunho often gets insecure despite having everything he always wished for, he had money, connections, nice pay and obviously a painfully handsome face but there still exists a hole in his heart which he can't fill with all his money. Only you could fill up that empty space but lately he feels you drifting away from him.
What you had with Yunho is quite hard to describe, you two weren't friends nor lovers , you knew Yunho since two years despite not talking much there has always been some air of sexual tension present but you brushed it off thinking it's all in your head, but how fucking wrong you were, you had no idea how hard Yunho was controlling himself, he wanted nothing but to fuck you senseless in his office, the same space you lurk around often, everytime he wished to have you he stopped himself, he doesn't do relationships he kept reminding himself but you were like a siren, unknowingly attracting him towards by simply existing.
Few months ago during the new year's party, Yunho's self - control finally shattered, he saw you flirting with the new guy, who too was painfully handsome. The alcohol in Yunho's system blurring the imaginary lines he set for himself, he took you to his spacious house and had his way with you just like he always wanted, fucking you on every surface, every corner possible.
Now every corner of his home screams your name, his sofa is lifeless without you sitting there with your snacks and laptop , his bed feels extra cold without your warm presence even his dog acts extra sulky when you are not around
for you Jeong Yunho was your superior, You considered yourself just one of the employees in his large empire who occassionally gets on her knees whenever he wanted and you took immense pride about that Yunho was extreme private person and being few of only people being close to him bought you weird sense of pride with everyone Yunho is always extremely vague with his words but inside the warm space of his home, he keeps yapping with you about his weird interests, his likes, dislikes, hobbies, favourite food, how he looks when he genuinely smiles, the real him.
Yunho giving no definition to your relationship didn't bother you much considering you had little crush on him since you started working with him, that's why at start him desiring your body was enough for you but plus the domesticity made you believe Yunho was all yours but as time passed , two of you started behaving more like couples behind the scenes, you staying in his house most of the days; days you don't even have sex, him cooking breakfast for you while you make the bed, being excited like kids while watching Marvel movies and Anime . Your crush turned into something more love probably . The realisation hit you like a punch to your guts, you were in love with Yunho and he isn't you were sure about that afterall he doesn't do relationships.
When you told your colleague; Mingi about your little rendezvous with Yunho, he gave you great piece of advice just like every good friend would give,
"Make him jealous Y/N, he's damn possessive over you, he fucked your brains out when you flirted with San, play the same game again"
"As you said, bestie"
So here you are, allowing the new guy ; San whom Yunho absolutely despised to flirt with you during the company dinner, not caring to button up your top shirt buttons, leaving your slutry figure exposed to everyone's hungry eyes. Not even once glancing at Yunho cause you never ever found his eyes on yours, right cause he didn't cared about you or you thought so.
Maybe you were always so slow in your tracks that you never once in months caught Yunho admiring you from afar. He noticed everything about , your little habits, your nails, your favourite coffee shop ( you had it favourite cause' you thought it was Yunho's favourite) He liked how vague and silent you were always were, just speaking when it's really necessary and doing tasks silently never once glancing at him. He felt you never cared, back when the whole crowd was shocked when he went blonde you didn't once looked at him it made him feel you don't care about him. Little did he knew you talked with your bestfriend for almost a hour ranting how divine and magnificent he looked.
Yunho's eyes kept sending daggers to your direction, while you laughed wholeheartedly on San's lame ass joke, your hands smacking against his back jokingly, Yunho can't understand since when you and San became so close, he hated his guts and seeing you so close to him made his skin crawl.
He need to peel you away from San .
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"he won't be able to eat you out so well right? Fucking fetus won't even know where the clit actually is" Yunho spoke against your thigh , kneading the soft skin mercilessly. His swollen lips were glistening with your cum and his own spit , you don't remember how long it has been since Yunho has been sucking your cunt with such hatered that just makes you reach your high again and again. You were clenching around nothing resulting in more of your juices to drip down along with Yunho's saliva, view that makes the man over you painfully hard and feral.
" Tell me, you owns this slutty pussy baby?" Yunho questioned, while his long digits worked inside your cunt in a fast pace, reaching deepest corner of your insides, pads rubbing the sensitive skin brutally while his thumb circled your clit, flicking the sensitive bud over and over again. Embarrassing squeaky noises coming out your pussy and echoing in Yunho's grand bedroom,Your arousal was dripping down from your thighs soaking the Yunho's bedsheets, splashing everywhere, on Yunho's forearms, his shirt, the shirt that could pay your whole two months rent , but he didn't cared about the stains inside he was proud of making you so wet, needy and moaning mess for him. Right just for him, you were only his and his only.
"You... yes you own me" you whimpered, voice high pitched like some fucking porn star, your eyes were almost blinded by shutting them too much from the pleasure , Your eyes were glued to Yunho's thick, long fingers they were looking so pretty covered in your arousal, the veins bulging out so beautifully, how badly you wished Yunho to put them inside your mouth.
Yunho was torturing you with such fast pace.You never thought he could get jealous like this, but you weren't complaining, you liked how utterly humiliated and owned Yunho is making you .
Chanting out the same line over and over again you are mine mine mine while he sucked, slapped and fingered you. You found his digits fastening up each time you answered his claims. Your orgasm was approaching you again as you clenched more tightly around his fingers, the wet squeaky sounds dominating dead silence of room along with your moans.
" I am close ... So fucking close" you cried out, your stomach tightening at the feeling , orgasm threatening to rip out of you any second but you know better. Not to be disobedient and ask Yunho for permission.
" who made you feel so good? Is it me or that San something from the marketing?huh?" Yunho's word carried pure venom when he said out that guys name, his actions halting fingers stopping deep inside you making you whine, fearing of being left on the edge. You didn't gave a single shit about the guy Yunhol was talking about, even his face was disappeared from your memory as Yunho fucked you so good at cloud nine.
" fuck.. you , you make me feel so good , only — you—you could make me feel so—so good please just let me cum, Yunho"
Yunho admired the mess he made out of you, so cockdrunk and begging for orgasm forgetting all your morals for just that ruined orgasm . He felt almost too bad for you, your wide eyes dripping with mascara, you looked absolutely fucked out and he loved it. Yunho undid his belt throwing it away at some corner, suppressing his desire to wrap it around your neck. He finally let his hard dick out, tip already dripping with precum screaming and begging just to be inside you.
"I am gonna wreck this tiny pussy, gonna fill you up all nice and full"
Yunho groaned, his words dropping low as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down on your slit collecting your gushing wetness and mixing it with his own. He pushed his hair back before kissing you harshly on your neck, sucking the same area where San had his gawking eyes over.
" yes please, fuck me Yunho" you begged pushing your hips upwards, getting desperate as each second passed by, he was so fucking close to you yet far. Yunho let out a hiss at your constant beggings , detaching himself from you and looking at the floor for something, finally his eyes fell on the material he wanted. A smirk made it's way on his face as he went to pick your panties from floor fisting it into ball and shoving it inside your mouth, your own arousal taste landing on your taste buds. You knew you looked so filthy and ruined but it only turned you on to infinity.
"You talk too much" Yunho spit out shoving the lace more inside your mouth before, his one hand gripped on your hips and the other circled around your waist as he entered inside you. A euphoric feeling washing over both of you.
Without wasting any more moment, he started raming his length inside of you, hips meeting yours harshly. He loved the way your walls sucked him up so greedily , while your loud moans were muffled by the material of your panties, looked so fucked out and still begging for more .
" What a needy whore I own could fuck you till daylight still you will keep begging more "
Yunho hissed, his tone dripping with poison, you loved how he was now just using for his own pleasure, rutting hips with you, just to bury his own load inside of you, it made you feel absolutely small, you were fully bare just your skirt bunched around your waist, while Yunho was still gloriously fully clothed, looking so expensive just having his cock out to fuck up your insides. Having such a strong grip onto your thighs that could leave marks for weeks.
" fuck fuck fuck" Yunho cried out helplessly feeling his orgasm close, his dick could burst out any second inside of you leaving you stuffed with it. His pace increased your grip onto his shirt tightening, not caring about ripping the fabric off.
" Fuck I love you so much" Yunho said, realising just a second later that he said the words out aloud, regretting as he saw your wide eyes, staring into his.
You mentally thanked Mingi for his absolutely ridiculous idea which worked out perfectly.
On other hand Yunho was cursing himself for confessing his love while being balls deep inside you.
Thanks for reading.
424 notes ¡ View notes
honeyedmiller ¡ 11 months ago
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Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller
joel miller x oc!f!reader
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rating: 18+, minors dni
synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.
warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.
word count: 5.3k
a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.
-
It was like clockwork. 
Every day was the same. 
The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes. 
The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five. 
It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does. 
Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back. 
Either way, it was all the same every single day. 
Until today. 
Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five. 
The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes. 
You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile. 
“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate. 
“No problem. Enjoy your break.” 
“Bless you, sweetheart.” 
You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you. 
You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order. 
“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin. 
The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey. 
Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable. 
And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome? 
It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.
The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age. 
His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him. 
He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks. 
“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.” 
You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar. 
“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter. 
His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite. 
Where the hell have you heard that voice before? 
And then it hits you. 
Fuck. 
Oh, fuck. 
That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count. 
In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too. 
The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure. 
His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with. 
Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone. 
You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.
You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature. 
Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip. 
“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up. 
“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way. 
“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers. 
The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath. 
You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him. 
You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances. 
You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget. 
You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way. 
“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.” 
He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing. 
“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure. 
“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 
“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire. 
You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.” 
You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist. 
You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?” 
“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile. 
“Thanks, Betty.” 
You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench. 
He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows. 
“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose. 
“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him. 
“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice. 
Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret. 
“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.” 
“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.” 
“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table. 
He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person. 
“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down. 
You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad. 
You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address. 
“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.” 
Holy fuck. 
No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket. 
Play. It. Cool. 
“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.” 
You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt. 
“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” 
“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth. 
You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you. 
His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words. 
“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.” 
He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded. 
“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.
“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke. 
“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.” 
-
The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows. 
The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside. 
You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system. 
You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink. 
After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line. 
“Hello?”
“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.” 
“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.” 
“See you soon.” 
Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away. 
You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car. 
It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this. 
You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off. 
Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. 
It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck. 
You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out. 
Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock. 
Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe. 
“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso. 
“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan. 
He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious. 
He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine. 
“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?” 
“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has. 
There’s no fucking way this man is real. 
You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you. 
It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core. 
He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world. 
Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses. 
“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.” 
Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time. 
“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him. 
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.” 
Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows. 
There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen. 
You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious. 
He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting. 
“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor. 
“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint. 
You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. 
“Show me.” You say. 
A small groan emits from the back of his throat. 
You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate. 
It was fucking carnal. 
He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh. 
“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked. 
Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs. 
Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder. 
“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?” 
“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation. 
“Good.” 
And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours. 
You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore. 
Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life. 
You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself. 
“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?” 
You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you. 
“You know I respect you, right baby?” 
Respect you? 
You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name. 
And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him��with him. 
And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins. 
You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. 
He shoots you a devilish smile. 
“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.” 
“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.
He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan. 
“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?” 
His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out. 
He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso. 
“Answer me.” 
“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.” 
He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?” 
“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips. 
“Joel.” 
“W-what?” 
“I want you moaning my real name, baby.” 
Joel. 
Joel. 
That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily. 
“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens. 
“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure. 
You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point. 
The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans. 
Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated. 
“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging. 
He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body. 
“Now.” He says. 
Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch. 
“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”
“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans. 
Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it. 
“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.” 
Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh. 
Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times. 
You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk. 
Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock. 
“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.” 
You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly. 
“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls. 
You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before. 
He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him. 
“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go. 
It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste. 
He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. 
“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him. 
You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so. 
“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass. 
“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion. 
“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.” 
“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible. 
“Please what, sugar?” 
“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.” 
You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger. 
He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment. 
He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance. 
“You ready baby?” 
You nod your head, but he shakes his. 
“Need your words this time darlin’.” 
“Yes Joel. Please.” 
He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size. 
Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole. 
“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you. 
You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator. 
Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut. 
It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin  slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you. 
He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting. 
“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him. 
His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward. 
“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time. 
He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe. 
“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes. 
His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly. 
Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel. 
Joel, Joel, Joel. 
You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you. 
He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it. 
“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit. 
He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.
“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay. 
It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap. 
You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another. 
It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss. 
“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.” 
You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and  shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another. 
One thing’s for sure and two things for certain: 
You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now. 
-
tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses
@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog
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urperfectcinnamonroll07 ¡ 2 months ago
Text
Days Free
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requested?: no pairing(s): choi seungcheol x afab!reader genre: smut, fluff warning(s): soft sex, unprotected sex (mentions of asking for a condom first, wrap it before you tap it), counter sex (then they go to the bed), overstimulation, vanlilla sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (f recieving), squirting, summary: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 word count: 2k a/n: jesus mother of christ i havent written for cheol in fucking ages. anyways, i have been posting a lot, maybe too much for my own liking, BUT, i may continue to post regularly depending on how busy i am. remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! -Cilla
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it was always hard to find a day where both you and cheol were off due to busy schedules. you had a shit ton of work always piled on you due to toxic co-workers. but cheol was an idol and therefore busy almost 24/7. but there was one day almost every three months where your schedules matched and you both had the day off.
that day was today, and you were excited because you had the whole day planned. you had a full day of fun activities, starting off with eating breakfast together, which was very rare in your house, then you would both get dressed and watch a movie, then you would go out to a restaurant (which you would pay for) and go for a walk. then the both of you would go to a museum and then go to another restaurant (which cheol would pay for). then last but not least you would both do skin care together and then go to bed.  
cheol was obviously against the idea of you paying for something for dinner, but you did it anyways since he was going to be paying for dinner.
you woke up this morning to cheol leaving soft kisses on your face. you smiled softly as you came eye-to-eye with cheol who smiled back at you, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away.
“good morning my gorgeous girl” he smiles softly, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing softly. you squirmed slightly as his breath tickled you it was mornings like these that made you fall even more in love with cheol, if that was even possible.
he pulled his face back, his eyes lidded as you looked up at him. he smiled before leaning down slightly and planting a deeper kiss on your lips, you happily returned it before climbing on top of him, straddling his waist. you pulled away.
“what do you want for breakfast?” you ask softly.
“we have stuff for pancakes don’t we?” he asks, sitting up. you nodded before climbing off of him and standing up, cheol follows not far behind you.
you both walk downstairs to the kitchen, first emptying the dishwasher that was put on the previous night and putting the stuff away on the draining board. this was something you both did together quite frequently because you were both usually up early together. you finished putting the dishes away and put the glasses in that you had both used to drink during the night.
you smiled softly as you felt his eyes on you before getting out pans and the ingredients for pancake mix.
“you’re always so gorgeous in the morning” he says, almost dreamily. you scoffed.
“i haven’t brushed my hair yet” you say, not even looking at him while putting the pan on the stove. it wasn’t long before you felt him wrap his arms around you.
he spins you around with his hands on your hips and presses kisses all over your face, you giggle slightly, pressing your hands on his chest to push him away slightly. he stopped kissing your face and instead stared at you dead in the eyes with a small smile on his face.
“you’re always so gorgeous anyways, i love you so much” he whispered softly, this made you smile, cheol starts leaning in to kiss you, and so do you. your lips then connect in a passionate kiss. your hands slide up from his chest to around his neck, managing to pull him closer if you possibly could.
it was funny to you how even the littlest touches from cheol could ignite such a fire in you that left you needing more and more from him, even after you had gotten your fill (quite literally). but your lips collided in such a way that left you absolutely soaked and bothered. it was also funny to you how he touched you in such a way that left you needing more even after you were completely spent and overstimulated, so when he reached his hand down from your waist to press on your pussy in-between your legs.
cheol chuckled against your lips at how wet you were. you were soaked to the point that you were soaking through your pyjama shorts. the kiss was deepened as you were pressed against the counter, your wetness getting impossibly more wet as he did so. cheol smirked as he felt this and moved his hands to your hips and picked you up, placing you on the counter without breaking the kiss.
soon, the kiss was broken and cheol began to pepper kisses down your neck to the top of your tank top, his hands beginning to wander from your hips to under your tank top until he got to your tits, pinching and tugging at your nipples. you whimpered and moaned, tugging at his hair as he latched and sucked on your skin of your neck down to your collarbone, leaving marks as he did so. he unattached his lips from your collarbone before tugging your tank top over your head, tossing it to the side on the floor of the kitchen. he then held your hips up as he slipped off your pj shorts, tugging them down and throwing them god knows where along with your shirt.
cheol moved you over to the kitchen island and made you move to lie back against the marble, the coldness hitting your bare back made you gasp. cheol moved your legs as wide as they could possibly go before diving into your pussy like a man starved, slurping and sucking for all you’re worth, making you moan and squirm against him. your back arched and cheol had to keep you still as he kept devouring your pussy whole as though he was a man starved, your hands tugging his hair as he did so, but he didn’t let up and continued sucking on your clit, sticking a few fingers into your hole and curling them into your sweet spot, making your toes curl and back arch more than it already had.
cheol knew you were beginning to get close as he kept slurping you with reckless abandon, trying to get you as close as he could, continuing to curl his fingers in you repeatedly as you moaned and writhed, trying to close your legs as much as you could as you felt something stirring in your lower stomach. cheol had to remove his fingers from your throbbing hole and hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. you felt the knot forming int your stomach as you began to get closer to your high. you were getting closer and closer by the second.
cheol kept going until eventually you were sent over the edge in a wave of pleasure. you felt your juices spurt out of you, spraying all over his face. he rides you out of your high, slurping and rubbing his face in your pussy.
once you were back to your normal state, cheol stood back up to his full height and looked down at you on the counter, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand in order to rid your juices. the fingers that were in your cunt dipped into his mouth and he sucked. your mouth slightly opened as you watched him, practically mesmerised by his actions. you could have moaned.
he smirked as he saw your reaction, but he then removed his fingers from his mouth and put his hands on your hips.
“wanna take this to the bedroom? need to fuck you now, baby” he mutters, his face in your hair. you hummed in response, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.
he pulled you up, his arms on your waist as he walked with you upstairs back to your unmade bed. he gently laid you down on it and pulled his joggers down. his hard cock immediately sprung out, his tip red and leaking with pre-cum. you licked your lips at the sight, he only smirked.
“don’t worry, baby, that’s for after dinner” he hums before he crawls over you, hovering above you before he presses a knee in-between your legs and opens them wide enough for him to kneel in-between them. “do you want me to put a condom on baby?” he asks softly, you knew he didn’t mind whether he did or not, he wanted to be inside of you either way.
“no, please just fuck me” you say after a few minutes of thinking, you didn’t care at this point, you just wanted him inside of you.
“are you sure?” your heart melted when he made sure it was what you really wanted.
“i’m sure” you say softly, cupping and stroking his cheek.
he nodded and lined himself up with your entrance.
he waited for a few seconds to tease you, you squeeze his bicep as a kind of warning and glare at him. he laughs lightly before pushing inside of you slowly. his elbows were now caging your head as he pushed himself in to the hilt.
you whimpered and dug your nails into his back as he stopped and waited for you to adjust, no matter how much he stretched you out, you could never be stretched out enough for his length to fit inside of you without you having to adjust first.
you eventually adjusted to his length, you tapped his arm twice as you could barely form words. the tip of his cock was pressing into your sweet spot so well. you moaned and it finally clicked to cheol that he could move. he slowly pulled out while your pussy squelched until only his tip remained.
at first, he set up a slow and sensual pace as cheol rutted softly into you. you were whimpering and moaning into his shoulder with every thrust. even though his thrusts were slow, they were still hard and somewhat rough. the bed frame was rattling and hitting against the wall with every thrust and movement.
though you both didn’t care.
cheol moved his hand away from the back of your head. you laid your head back into the pillows and looked up at him. his hair was stuck to his forehead, and the necklace with a plaque that had both of your initials with a heart dangled from his neck.
“doing so good for me baby, so good” he groaned out, throwing his head back before he looked back into your eyes, when you tried to hide your head back into his shoulder he pulled it back so he was laying back on the pillows. “eyes on me, baby, need to see your gorgeous face” he mumbles before leaning down and kissing you deeply.
you moaned as your pussy clenched around his tight length, the sound of you and him meeting was oddly calming to you. you both pulled away and cheol looked deeply into your eyes, as did you with his.
you felt a knot forming in your stomach, you were getting dangerously close to your high. your nails dug into cheol’s back once again as a warning.
“’m gonna come, cheol” you whimper softly to him, he groans at the sound of your voice.
“come for me baby, wanna see your beautiful face when you come all over my cock like the good girl you are” he mumbles, his eyes were darting all over your face to watch your face as it unfolded in pure pleasure.
his husky voice was all it took for you to come all over his cock, juices spurting out as your orgasm felt like it was going on for pure decades. you almost felt as though you were going to black out at the intensity of your orgasm.
you were still coming down from your high that cheol was trying to ride you out of that you almost missed his groan and stuttering hips that betrayed he had came not long after you. he kept thrusting into you, making sure his cum would stay deep inside of you.
you could already tell this was going to be the best day ever.
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ipseitydelrey ¡ 9 months ago
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idk if you do headcanons but I wanna know what you think each member of the BAU team would get you for your birthday?
<33
hi !! yes i def do general headcanons too, and this is such a good idea 🫶
birthday bash ☆ the B.A.U.
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characters aaron hotchner, spencer reid, emily prentiss, derek morgan, jennifer jareau, david rossi, penelope garcia, tara lewis, luke alvez, elle greenaway; can be seen as platonic or romantic with any character
content just some general headcanons
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aaron hotchner is incredibly observant and he cares for his team, so he will make sure you get at least a basket-full worth of stuff. he’ll likely say it’s from everyone on the team, even if he did pay for everything in the basket himself. he also goes out of his way to get presents for people he cares about (à la the halloween special where he got that darth vader mask for jack). included in the basket are some office supplies, flowers (of course), candies, and maybe a replacement of something you broke (like your favourite mug).
spencer reid will make sure to get you something that is functional from both an aesthetic standpoint and a practical one. of course, he’ll likely get you rare books with the pages yellow and worn from use, but are still delightfully charming, even if you’re not that interested in the contents of those pages. he’ll also treat you to a sort of last-minute-birthday-breakfast if you’re all called in to work, where he’ll get you your favourite pastry and coffee/tea, just the way you like it. antiquities are also a go to, whether it’s jewellery or otherwise.
emily prentiss is an enigma when it comes to gift giving; nobody knows what she’s getting for you, and nobody knows if it’s going to be a joke present or a genuinely thoughtful one (or some combination of the two). one present she might get for you are aphrodisiac chocolates because “you’ll never know if you get lucky” (her words).
derek morgan likely wouldn’t get you a genuinely thoughtful gift at first if you were relatively new to the team. but after some time on cases and at the office and such, he will put effort into his gifts. so for your first birthday with the team, he might play it safe by getting you gift cards; but after getting to know you more, he’ll get you something that is geared to your tastes, but it will be a gift that will remind you of him. although, he is just as likely as emily to get you a joke present, if not more.
jennifer jareau’s presents are quite rushed on account of her having to balance being an agent and a mom, but she does put a lot of heart into them. she knows more than anyone how taxing the job can get at times, so expect some well-deserved spa day coupons that she managed to find strewn around her place. it’s possible she’ll get you a couple instead of one. she will also likely give you a couple drawings henry and michael made, and you can bet that you’ll hang that up on your fridge at home.
david rossi in the early seasons (especially season three) would very likely not even plan on getting you a present unless he was reminded by hotch. however, in the later seasons, rossi definitely acts like the wine aunt who gives you straight up cash as a present. expect anywhere from $100 – $1k+, he has to use up the money he got from being a best-selling author somehow. also alcohol; he will get you expensive bottles of whiskey, scotch or wine, no room for argument (unless you have a legitimate reason).
penelope garcia goes all out for your birthday; obviously she puts the most effort in her gifts and more. for her presents, she will buy quite a lot, to the point where she might spend maybe half her pay check on the presents. her gifts mostly consist of decorations mostly for aesthetic purposes, but has little to do with everyday use. possible presents coming from her include paintings, pillows, fidget toys and mugs, all of which are very colourful. but she doesn’t just stop there with presents; she will likely organize a group dinner (or maybe a group breakfast, just in case of a possible case).
tara lewis is simultaneously the least expected and most expected member of the team to be a chaotic gift giver. she will also likely get you a joke present but while emily would get you something along the lines of a prank present, tara’s presents would be subtle and remind you of inside jokes either within the team or just between the two of you. also, expect alcohol, quite a number of the team will get you a bottle, including tara.
luke alvez definitely tries the hardest with his gifts (after penelope, of course), especially if he’s newer on the team. he’ll ask around for any ideas, either on what to get you or what kind of person you are with the team so he can figure it out for himself. if you have a dog (or two…or five), he will spoil the dog rotten with new toys, biscuits or dog accessories — which he probably collaborated with penelope on.
elle greenaway’s presents are ones that you shouldn’t really open with most of the team present because of their explicit nature. she’ll probably get you incredibly revealing swimwear (yet another collaboration with penelope), and also alcohol — specifically hard liquor. those are likely to be the only presents that you can actually open in front of everybody on the team without getting a lot of stares.
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taglist @queermaxwooo @pleasantwitchgarden @hbwrelic @kissesforapence @theoraekenslover join the taglist!
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ricciardosheart ¡ 7 months ago
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Like all the drivers, who do you think will do a nice valentine day like celebration with flowers and dinner and all the stuff ?? and can you elaborate
this is the worst thing I may have written lol, not proud of it at all should I do a part 2 with the other driver ?????
1. Charles Leclerc
The Classic Romantic with Heartfelt Gestures
Charles is deeply in touch with his emotions, which makes him the kind of guy who would plan Valentine’s Day weeks in advance, wanting everything to be perfect. Growing up in Monaco, he knows all the beautiful spots hidden away from the hustle of city life. He’d probably pick a place that’s meaningful to both of you, like where you first met or a favorite quiet corner by the sea. Charles is attentive to detail—expect a well-thought-out dinner reservation at a charming, cozy restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean, or maybe a private rooftop dinner just for the two of you.
He’s a gentleman, so flowers are a must, but they won’t just be any flowers—he’ll know your favorite kind and make sure it’s personal. If you love roses, they’ll be there, but if you’ve once mentioned peonies in passing, that’s what you’ll receive.
The Day:
Morning: You’ll wake up to a hand-written note and breakfast he’s picked out from a local cafe. The note will be full of sweet little reminders of why he loves you.
Afternoon: He’ll take you to an art museum or for a scenic walk, something low-key but filled with moments to talk and connect.
Evening: Dinner will be elegant yet intimate, followed by a moonlit walk along the beach, with Charles wrapping his arm around you and maybe a stop for dessert at his favorite ice cream spot.
Gift: Something deeply personal—a delicate necklace or bracelet, possibly engraved, to remind you of a special moment you’ve shared.
2. Daniel Ricciardo
The Playful, Yet Deeply Affectionate Lover
Daniel is a ray of sunshine, and his Valentine’s Day celebration would be full of laughter, teasing, and spontaneous moments. He’s the guy who wakes you up with a goofy grin, presents you with a bouquet of colorful wildflowers, and tells you he has a surprise planned. His idea of romance blends fun with affection—so the day would start with some sort of adventure, like go-karting or even a silly scavenger hunt around the house or town. He thrives on shared experiences, so the activities would reflect that.
For Daniel, it's all about making you smile, so he might plan something quirky like a paint-and-sip class, where you both create art together. He’ll capture your playful spirit with things that allow you both to let loose and laugh, but he’ll still balance that with quiet moments where he holds your hand and tells you how much you mean to him.
The Day:
Morning: Wakes you up with breakfast in bed, made up of all your favorite things—coffee, pancakes, and a handpicked playlist that he’s curated just for you. He might even crack a few jokes or tell you to get ready for a day full of surprises.
Afternoon: Something spontaneous and fun—think go-karting, hiking, or visiting an amusement park where he can joke around, but he’s still holding your hand the entire time.
Evening: The playful vibe would continue with a casual dinner at a hidden gem of a restaurant or a private, at-home cooking experience where you both make pizzas together. Expect him to serenade you, with fake seriousness, over dinner or sneak in funny comments to make you laugh.
Gift: It could be something with an inside joke—a quirky piece of art or even a photo album capturing fun moments throughout your relationship, proving that he pays attention to the details that make you unique.
3. Lewis Hamilton
The Sophisticated Gentleman with a Deep Emotional Side
Lewis has a polished, luxurious vibe, but he’s also incredibly spiritual and mindful. Valentine’s Day with Lewis would be an experience of relaxation, intimacy, and connection, blending his love for wellness with moments of luxury. He’d begin the day with something to relax and pamper you both—a spa day, perhaps, where you can unwind with massages and enjoy a couple’s treatment. Lewis has a strong sense of adventure, so he might fly you to a romantic destination (Paris, anyone?) for a quick getaway to make the day extra special.
He’s likely to organize a multi-part day, where he surprises you with little thoughtful moments throughout. Lewis is deeply affectionate and tuned into his partner’s needs, so every part of the day would be curated with care. His love language is likely a combination of quality time and thoughtful gifts, so expect something deeply meaningful from him that reflects both his world and your relationship.
The Day:
Morning: A thoughtful breakfast that involves your favorite healthy treats—he’s a fan of wellness, so you might start with a smoothie bowl or avocado toast delivered to your bedside while he plays soft music in the background.
Afternoon: A spa retreat or a mindfulness experience like yoga together, reflecting his love for balance and relaxation. Or, he might fly you to a city like Paris or Rome, where the day continues in style.
Evening: A luxurious dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant or something private and intimate, with candlelight and fine wine. He’ll make sure the evening feels like a grand event, from the venue to his impeccable suit.
Gift: Expect a high-end, thoughtful present—perhaps a designer bag or fine jewelry, but with a touch of personalization, like an engraving or a connection to something special between you both.
4. Carlos Sainz
The Sincere, Down-to-Earth Romantic
Carlos is grounded and sincere, and that translates into his approach to love. He isn’t the type to make grand, flashy gestures, but everything he does will be filled with genuine care and attention. Valentine’s Day with Carlos would feel like home—warm, comforting, and intimate. He’s the kind of guy who would rather have a meaningful, personal dinner with you than do something extravagant, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less special.
Carlos is big on family, so don’t be surprised if he incorporates elements that show how much he values building a life with you. Expect him to make dinner plans at a cozy, intimate restaurant where you can enjoy each other’s company without too many distractions, or he might even cook with you at home—something like Spanish tapas, a nod to his heritage.
The Day:
Morning: Carlos would surprise you with breakfast in bed, or maybe even start the day with a quiet morning walk through a park, hand in hand, just enjoying each other’s company.
Afternoon: A laid-back activity like a scenic drive through the countryside or a visit to a local vineyard, where you can talk and laugh together, building memories in a relaxed setting.
Evening: A cozy dinner at a small, romantic restaurant with lots of good food and conversation. Or, he might cook with you, laughing and enjoying the time spent creating a meal together.
Gift: Carlos would likely give you something thoughtful, like a piece of jewelry with sentimental value or a keepsake that represents a milestone in your relationship.
5. George Russell
The Gentlemanly Perfectionist with Thoughtful Surprises
George is the definition of a gentleman, and his Valentine’s Day would reflect that. He’d plan meticulously, wanting to make sure every detail is perfect. He’s a romantic at heart and would enjoy doing things by the book, but with an extra touch of thoughtfulness to make sure you feel completely special. His day would be elegant and tasteful—expect him to show up with a perfectly arranged bouquet of roses, beautifully presented and likely paired with your favorite chocolates or a sweet card.
He’s also one for fine dining, so he’d probably make reservations at a high-end restaurant with an incredible view, knowing that atmosphere is key. George is the type who takes his time to understand his partner, so every part of the day would be designed around things he knows you love.
The Day:
Morning: You’ll wake up to George making breakfast, complete with freshly brewed coffee and something sweet like pastries or pancakes. He’d present it to you with a smile, making sure you feel pampered from the start.
Afternoon: You might spend the afternoon doing something charming like visiting a museum or going for a scenic drive, talking and sharing moments that feel effortless.
Evening: A reservation at an upscale restaurant with a view, where he’s likely dressed in a sharp suit. He’d hold the door for you, pull out your chair, and give you all his attention over a candlelit dinner.
Gift: Expect something elegant and timeless—he might gift you a beautiful watch or piece of jewelry that’s carefully chosen to suit your style.
6. Lando Norris
The Playful, Laid-Back Romantic with a Fun Twist
Lando’s young, fun-loving personality means that Valentine’s Day with him would be less about formality and more about having a great time together. He’s spontaneous and full of energy, so you can expect surprises throughout the day—he might wake you up with a cheeky “Happy Valentine’s!” and a box of donuts instead of flowers, just to keep things light-hearted.
He’s all about shared experiences, so his day would likely revolve around activities that allow you to bond, laugh, and make memories. He’s not overly traditional, so while you might not get a candlelit dinner at a Michelin-star restaurant, you’ll probably get something that feels much more personal and in tune with your relationship.
The Day:
Morning: Lando might start the day with a cute, casual breakfast, surprising you with something fun like pancakes shaped like hearts or donuts from your favorite bakery.
Afternoon: A playful date activity like bowling, go-karting, or mini-golf—something competitive where you can tease each other and have a good laugh.
Evening: A casual but meaningful dinner, maybe at a fun spot like a food truck park or a quirky, themed restaurant. He’d want to keep things relaxed and full of laughs.
Gift: Expect something playful but thoughtful, like a scrapbook of memories or a fun gadget he knows you’d love—something that shows he’s been paying attention.
7. Pierre Gasly
The Stylish, Thoughtful Romantic
Pierre has a keen sense of style and charm, and he’d bring that into his Valentine’s Day celebration. He’s the type to blend luxury with personal touches, making sure the day feels both special and unique to you. Pierre would likely plan a surprise date or even a mini getaway to somewhere breathtaking, because he’s all about creating moments that feel like something out of a movie.
You can expect him to show up with an extravagant bouquet of flowers, maybe something exotic or rare to symbolize how special you are to him. He’s also very attentive and would make sure every detail of the day aligns with what you love, from the food to the ambiance.
The Day:
Morning: Pierre would surprise you with breakfast in bed, complete with fresh croissants, coffee, and maybe even a handwritten note expressing his feelings.
Afternoon: A surprise trip to a scenic destination—a vineyard, a boutique hotel, or somewhere beautiful where you can take photos and just enjoy being together.
Evening: Dinner at an upscale restaurant with a gorgeous view, where he’d dress impeccably and treat you to a romantic evening filled with great food and conversation.
Gift: Pierre would give you something high-end but meaningful, like a designer handbag or jewelry, carefully chosen to suit your style.
8. Fernando Alonso
The Intense, Passionate Romantic
Fernando’s approach to Valentine’s Day would be filled with intensity and passion, but in a way that’s deeply thoughtful. He’s not into doing things just for the sake of it—he’d plan a day that feels meaningful, where you can both escape from the world and enjoy each other’s company in a quiet, intimate setting. He’s likely to choose a location off the beaten path, maybe a secluded cabin in the mountains or a hidden restaurant that only locals know about.
Fernando would make sure the day feels deeply connected—he’s not one for superficial gestures, so everything he does would have emotional weight. He’s likely to skip the big bouquet of roses for something more understated but significant, like a simple arrangement of flowers you once mentioned were your favorite.
The Day:
Morning: Fernando would start the day with a simple but meaningful gesture—perhaps coffee together while watching the sunrise, reflecting his love for quiet, peaceful moments.
Afternoon: A private, scenic getaway—somewhere far from the crowds, where you can enjoy the beauty of nature or explore a new place together.
Evening: Dinner at a secluded restaurant or a meal he’s prepared himself, with the two of you enjoying wine and conversation in front of a fireplace or overlooking a beautiful view.
Gift: Fernando’s gift would be deeply personal, something that speaks to the connection you share—perhaps an old book he knows you’d love, or a keepsake that ties into a significant memory between you two.
Each of these drivers would bring their own flair to Valentine’s Day, reflecting their personalities in unique ways. Whether it’s Charles’s heartfelt classic romance or Daniel’s playful yet affectionate vibe, every driver has a different way of showing their love. Which one resonates with the kind of Valentine's Day you’d love to experience?
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deathdetermineslife ¡ 4 months ago
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to my fellow selfshippers that have depression, which gets worse in the colder months;
your f/o understands. they get that this time of year is hard for you. there's nothing wrong with that. they'll do whatever they need to to take extra special care of you this time of year.
don't worry about chores or making dinner or any obligation you may have. they'll take care of it for you. maybe you need some extra motivation to get out of bed or shower or brush your hair. that's okay. they're there to support you in any way that they possibly can.
maybe they do something for you to cheer you up a little? they make you breakfast in bed or buy you something that you've been wanting or just pay you some more attention. maybe they start waking you up in the morning with a few more kisses than usual or they talk a little softer than they do typically. whatever it is, they wanna remind you just how much you mean to them. and that when this season passes and things clear up a bit, they'll still be here, ready to face another day with you.
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eddiazx ¡ 6 months ago
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benefit part 2 - evan buckley x reader
part 1 here!
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Buck wakes up with his nose pressed against your hair. You’ve slept at Buck’s multiple times, even shared beds once or twice, but he never realized just how clingy you are in your sleep. Half your body is on top of his: your head is tucked underneath his chin, your arm is splayed out over his bare torso, and your right leg is hooked over his left thigh, knee brushing up against his morning wood.
Buck likes this. The domesticity, the smell of you, your warmth; Buck could get used to waking up this way all the time.
Except, he thinks soberly, that’s not what the two of you had agreed on. This was supposed to be just sex. But Buck has come to the belated realization that it could never be just anything with you.
“Buck? You awake yet?”, Eddie’s voice comes ringing through the loft from his front door. Buck’s eyes widen; he had completely forgotten that he made plans to get breakfast with him that morning. He looks at you, who had woken up to the sound. With an impressive quickness, you roll off and drop down soundlessly to hide under the bed in all your naked glory. Buck would have busted out laughing if he wasn’t so scared that Eddie was going to catch the two of you together. Neither of you would hear the end of it if the rest of the team found out about your little arrangement.
Eddie makes his way up the loft stairs and gives Buck an unimpressed look over at his sleepy, shirtless form. Buck had had the sense to throw the covers over his legs to avoid flashing Eddie.
“Hey Eds”, Buck smiles weakly.
“Morning, sleeping beauty. You able to get ready in 5, at least? I’m craving that breakfast burrito from Joe’s.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. Just…go watch TV and I’ll be ready in a bit.” Buck says, desperately hoping Eddie doesn’t look too closely at the fact that your bra was on the floor in the corner of the room.
Eddie nods, before saying, “Maybe we can text Y/N if she wants to join us too.”
Buck lets out a startled cough at your name, but Eddie already has his back to him, walking down the stairs. A few moments pass until Buck hears the sounds of Brooklyn 99 playing downstairs.
Buck leans over and peers down at you. You have an amused smile on your face, but Buck can’t help but mouth, “you okay?”
You nod, and give him a thumbs up. You gesture at your phone, which Buck hands over to you. He watches as you open up your notes app and type out 'go grab breakfast, I’ll let myself out and lock the door' before showing him the text.
Buck nods and walks to the bathroom, all the while wondering what the heck he got himself into.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
Eddie is talking about a project Chris has for his history class while chewing on his burrito. Buck is trying really hard to pay attention, but his brain keeps providing him with unhelpful flashes of last night. He thinks he might be hallucinating, because he can even picture you sitting down in front of him.
Wait, that’s not a hallucination, you were actually here.
“Hi guys”, you smile, swiping a potato off of Eddie’s plate and popping it into your mouth, eyes sparkly and beautiful as usual. Buck is again met with a memory of last night, when you put something of his in your mouth.
Buck shakes his head, as if he can physically clear his mind from the memory. “Uh, what’re you doing here?”
“I knew you would forget so I sent her a text to join us while you were getting ready.” Eddie responds for you.
"Right, yeah." Buck nods quickly.
Eddie and you exchange glances. Buck was acting weird, weirder than normal.
While you order and promptly delve into a conversation with Eddie, Buck considers moving to another firehouse, one where he didn't have to see and work with his best friend that he was hopelessly in love with.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
"Hen, can I talk to you?", Buck stammers, when they're the only two seated at the firehouse dinner table one evening.
"Sure, what's up?" Hen asks, closing the textbook she was reading.
"I... I think I have feelings for Y/N." Buck admits.
Hen continues to stare at Buck expectantly, not a single difference showing in her face after Buck's admission. "Wait, that's it? That's not news to anybody, Buck."
Buck blinks at Hen. "What?"
"Buck, you've been gone for her since she started at the 118. You've had permanent heart eyes for that girl."
"No... we're friends! Best friends!"
Hen shoots Buck a patient look. "Chim and I are best friends, Buck. You and Y/N are in a different category entirely."
"Okay, fine, whatever. It's bad, Hen. We started sleeping with each other last week and -"
"What?!"
"She's so smart and beautiful Hen, and she makes the hottest sounds when-"
"Okay, ew."
"But she doesn't want to be in a relationship and I don't know how to act around her now that I know I have feelings for her and-"
"Alright Buck, breathe." Hen motions for Buck to inhale and exhale with her hands. Hen seems thoughtful for a second, before she asks, "how do you know she doesn't want to be in a relationship?"
"I don't think a relationship was what she had in mind. She suggested we have sex casually; that it wouldn't be weird 'cause we're friends."
"That... was a horrible idea."
Buck groans and puts his head in his hands. "Well, I know that now!"
Hen smiles softly, prying Buck's hands away to hold onto them. "Buck, we all knew that you were in love with her, but she looks at you the same way. I think you guys should talk to each other. You guys might be on the same page."
Buck looks at Hen's earnest, honest face. He wasn't entirely convinced, but he knows that he couldn't keep avoiding you or clamming up the way he did at breakfast. He needed to come clean.
And then promptly move.
274 notes ¡ View notes
phiehasleaves ¡ 16 days ago
Text
anniversary to forget - han jisung
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some say ignorance is bliss - today was proving that statement to be false.
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han jisung x f!reader
w/c - 1,400 words
angst -> fluff
masterlist
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tensions had been high for at least a week now. neither of you spoke of the sudden distance between you - that would make it real.
it's your first bad argument as a married couple.
usually, you would bicker, pout and then make-up all in the same day.
but this?
this was different. worse.
you would sleep alone in bed, the silence being your only company. or you'd fall asleep on the sofa, waiting for him to come back from the studio, just to be disappointed when you would wake up with him nowhere around.
you had no clue where he would run off to in the evenings when he wasn't at your shared home.
when he was there, it was always too awkward to ask where he'd been.
you trusted him, knew he would never cheat or anything. yet... the doubt was still there, lingering like a dark cloud full of rain, waiting to burst.
your relationship could be described like that, or like a ticking bomb, the pair of you ready to explode at each other any second now.
which is unfortunate due to the fact that your anniversary is today, and you hadn't even said 'hello'.
like any other day, you woke up alone. got dressed slowly, knowing you had nothing planned. ate breakfast in silence.
with hope you check your phone, maybe he'd messaged whilst you were getting ready?
lo and behold, nothing.
you're not even surprised anymore.
----
lunchtime arrived faster than you'd expected - you were thankful for it, in an odd way. it meant the day would be over sooner and you wouldn't have to spend your second anniversary by yourself.
unluckily for you, han's friends were also your friends, and he was probably with them, which meant you could not be. it would be weird, and they'd no doubt ask questions - or maybe not. maybe han had told them why you're not speaking. why you're apart on such a special day.
it was something small, blown out of proportion due to your shared exhaustion.
you'd asked him to stop working so late in the studio, accusing him of putting his work above you. not paying enough attention to you. he would message you, saying he'd be home in twenty minutes, to wait for him so you could eat dinner together. you would stay up, later and later, waiting for him.
he'd get back hours later, already well-fed, muttering empty apologies to you when you'd express how long you'd kept yourself awake for him.
if you knew then, that bringing it up would cause this much drama, this much loneliness, sadness even, then you never would have mentioned it.
----
the vanilla candle flickers violently on the table, the wick thicker than what it should be.
your food lays beside it, plate empty.
you sit there, watching the flames as the radio plays mindlessly in the background.
the clock ticks. each second more painful than the previous.
then the door opens.
your heart falters when you finally see his face. it had been days since you last did.
he looks as though he was surprised by your presence, slowly locking the door as he drops a bag by it, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up.
he makes no comment to you, no eye contact, just walking past into your bedroom.
moments later you hear the sound of the shower trickling.
was he planning on staying?
you spend the next few minutes cleaning the living room up, you hadn't really made any mess, but you needed to distract your thoughts.
the shower stops, followed by quiet footsteps plodding back into the bedroom, door closing with a loud click.
it doesn't take long for the smell of his shampoo to travel throughout the apartment, a comforting scent despite the atmosphere between the pair of you.
body flops back onto the sofa, a sliver of hope nestled its way into you.
han was here. at the same time as you.
that's some improvement, right?
he emerges out from the room, now sitting as far as he can from you on the sofa.
"have you eaten?" you ask quietly after an awkward beat of silence.
he nods, not taking his eyes away from the tv that's now playing, "yep."
you take in his appearance, his damp hair, the dark circles enveloping his eyes, his tired slouch, the white shirt sticking to his wet skin.
"you slept much?" another question from you.
he sighs, agitated almost, "i don't know, y/n. i've been in the studio a lot, if that's what you're asking."
you shake your head, not that he was looking at you anyway, "it wasn't. you just look exhausted."
"thanks." his tone was nothing short of impatient.
did you always get on people's nerves this easily?
going against your thoughts, you press him further, curious as to where he's been. "you know you shouldn't spend your nights in the studio..."
he runs his hands down his face, standing up, "you're still on that?" his voice was a lot louder.
your face contorts, eyebrows drawn in shock at his outburst, "of course i am! i haven't seen you for a week, you haven't even slept here throughout that time. where have you even been?" you rise to your feet as well.
his hands shift onto his hips. "i've been with lee know. unlike you, he doesn't nag me about coming home early."
"well he's not your wife, is he? i care about you too much to keep letting you stay up late and ignoring me. so i'm sorry for continuously bringing it up."
he listens to you, does his best to not interrupt you either.
"why are you only bothered about it now? why are you only apologising now? why do you care about being ignored now, huh?" his shoulders shrug with each question.
you scoff, crossing your arms, "it's not all 'now'-"
"you've never mentioned it before."
"i have. you just don't listen, jisung." his demeanor shifts once he hears his name leave your lips. no pet-name. no endearments. "you left as soon as i asked for just an hour more of your attention. then you didn't come back for a week? did you not think about me once? not to mention you come back on our anniversary, all moody and tired."
he stares at his socked feet. body smaller, cowering, as he finally thinks about his actions - like a toddler in timeout.
then he looks at you, truly looks at you, all anger in his eyes vanishing. "i... i didn't mean to make you feel like that."
you don't relent your anger, "like what, jisung? how do you think i feel after being ignored by my husband for an entire week?"
"lonely. like you're not enough." he steps closer to you, hands hovering over your arms, "but you are enough. i swear. as soon as i spent one night without you, i knew i'd made a mistake."
you look up at him, rage simmering down. "then why'd you stay away for so long?"
his heart almost breaks at the desperation in your voice, at how quickly you calmed down, how easily you let him back in.
"i was too angry at myself, and i knew i would throw that onto you. so i did what you told me not to do instead."
"worked?"
he nods, lips pressed tightly together.
his hands finally make contact with your warm skin, holding your face as he pulls you closer and rests his forehead against yours.
"i'm so, so, sorry, baby." he mutters, voice wavering.
a tear drops onto your face, his tear. he wipes it away with his thumb, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his nose against yours.
"i forgive you."
he nods against you.
"but if you do anything like this again, then it's over for us, jisung. i'm not gonna keep waiting up all night just to see my partner for an hour each day."
he's quick to defend himself, "you won't. i promise. i'll come home in time for dinner, i'll even cook it for you. and i'll be there in bed when you wake up, i won't go to the studio early, and if i have to, then i'll just carry you along with me."
"i love you." you mumble, now resting your head against his shoulder.
one of han's hands cradles your head, the other rubbing your back, "i love you, too. but please don't ever call me jisung again."
and just like that, it's almost as though you'd never argued in the first place.
83 notes ¡ View notes
boybandbaby ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Girl Can’t Help It (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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word count: 2994
warnings/tags: established relationship, 18+ only MDNI, inexperienced!spencer and inexperienced!reader, massage, dry humping?, grinding, mattress humping, cum in pants, hand (Spencer’s ) kink, clit stimulation, nipple play
Spencer had been doting on you all day. You’d both had the day off and planned to spend it together. Not only that but it was the first time you’d be spending the night together.
Your relationship had only blossomed within the last few months. You’d both taken everything really slow including flirting, then dates, and then making it official. While you’d been dating for about 7 months, you’d only been official for about 3. Some of this was due to your job with the BAU, but essentially it came down to both of your inexperience.
You both knew there was really no timeline for a relationship and decided to do this at your own pace, whatever made you both comfortable and happy.
Here you were on a Friday morning, slipping a cardigan on, and not so patiently waiting for Spencer to let you know he arrived. You were excited yet nervous about the next step in your relationship. Spencer would be staying over and seeing you first thing in the morning. While initially there was some dread and nerves about that idea, you tried to erase it away.
Just as you were packing the essentials for the day in a small bag, you heard a knock on your door. Checking your phone for any texts from your boyfriend but not finding any, had your brow furrowing. You check the peephole to see his face pressed closely to the door, only one of his eyes visible.
You shake your head and laugh, pulling the door open. “Good morning, baby.” You pucker your lips as he slips inside. He gives your lips a short peck and then one to your forehead before he’s rushing to put a brown paper bag and two drinks down. You help him out by grabbing his duffel off the doormat and bringing it inside.
“What’s all this?” You smile and close the door. “Thought we were going to breakfast?”
“Actually, change of plans. Which I’m sorry for but I think you’ll like our new plans.” He hands you your favorite drink from the cafe where you had your first date. His hands then reach for the brown bag and his face is shoved into it, searching for the pastry he picked out for you.
“Okay, spill.” You take a sip.
“Well, I was thinking. There’s this new exhibit at the museum we were talking about last week. I thought maybe we could go to that and then stop by the bookstore and then try that new Greek restaurant down the street. You know the one with the cool logo? Then I figured we could go to the store and get food and snacks for dinner and a movie and turn in early.” He hadn’t realized but his hand tightened on the bag as he rambled, afraid he had done too much or maybe you wouldn’t want to do any of the things he said.
“Sounds like a plan, baby.” You place your cup down on the coffee table. “Now, I’ll only go with you today if you let me pay for lunch.”
He opens his mouth to protest, “nope. We already talked about this. I said the first time we try it, I pay and if you try to pay while we’re there I’ll revoke your sleepover pass. Sound like a deal?”
“Sounds like a deal.” He smiles, offering your pastry. You take a bite as he’s holding it and lean forward for a kiss. He already has powdered sugar on his lips from taking a bite of his own sweet treat.
Throughout the day, Spencer holds your bag, ties your shoes when they come undone, refills your drink at lunch when it’s just ice. You try to return the favor by carrying his books as he browses the shelves, instant regret when your shoulder aches from how heavy the stack is. You suffer through as he excitedly pulls a brown book from the highest shelf and explains the authors interesting childhood.
Once you hit the grocery store, Spencer takes over with pushing the cart and grabbing all the items. You cling to his side as you rest against him. It makes it harder to walk but he doesn’t mind, he knows you’re beat from the day of activities.
You get home shortly after and both change into pajamas and cook a quick dinner.
Once dinner was over, you had retreated to the bedroom, Spencer only catching a portion of what you said you were doing. Something about needing a moment to let your stomach settle.
Spencer didn’t mind, packing the leftovers of your meal in two containers for you both to have tomorrow on a surprise picnic he’s planned. He washes the dishes, wipes the counters and table, then sweeps the floor before turning the light off. He thinks he’s given you enough alone time and he’s ready to smother you in affection.
You remove the pillow from your face when he enters. He tiptoes into the room with your bag of snacks.
“You feeling okay?” He watches you sit up and wince, he himself crawling over to you on the bed. He rests on his knees and sits on his calves, bringing your face in his hands. He scans your face only to find a pout and closed eyes.
“My body aches. I don’t think I’ve been this exhausted since that case in Florida we did a few weeks ago. I think I was so excited about today I burned through all my energy by the time we got to the grocery store.”
Spencer laughs, closed mouth and shy. His hands slowly slide from your cheeks and jaw down your necks and onto your shoulders. His fingers squeeze and knead at the tension. “It probably didn’t help that you carried all my new books.”
“I offered.” You shrug, eyes still closed and melting into his touch. “Wanted to do something nice for you since you do nice things for me all the time. Like massaging me.”
“You do nice things for me all the time too. Like pay for lunch.” He quips.
“Only after a mild argument.” You open one eye, “stubborn you are.”
“Not stubborn, just a gentleman.”
“You really are. Your hands feel so nice.” You drag out the so.
Spencer has become more comfortable initiating physical touch with you over the last few weeks as you both test your boundaries. While you haven’t had sex yet, you’ve made out some and definitely cuddle most days.
He decides to push the limit a little bit, see where you’re at with moving forward. “Do you want a back massage?” He cringes at the way he blurts it out.
He watches your eyes open up and how you bite your lip while thinking. You don’t want to sound too eager at the idea of his hands on your body. You ponder before nodding.
You shuffle to lay on your stomach, belly full of food and butterflies. Spencer shuffles to stand as you shuffle towards one end of the bed.
“Do you have lotion or something?” He looks around.
“Bathroom.” You mumble as you pull a pillow beneath your head, hugging your arms around it.
Spencer jogs over to the bathroom and searches in the cabinet for lotion. Once he gets it he runs back into the room. He’s stunned when he sees that you’ve removed your shirt. Sure your back is the only thing in sight but knowing you’re half naked makes him falter in his movements.
“Babe, I uh, I could only find the vanilla lotion. Is that one okay?” He clears his throat.
“Yeah…” You nearly whisper, sensing his change in energy, not sure if you’ve overstepped. You know taking off your shirt is something you’ve never done around him, it’s new for both of you.
He steps forward and runs lotion in his palms. He tentatively presses his palms, fingers stretched out against your skin.
He starts rubbing in circles, applying slight pressure, watching as the lotion disappears into your skin.
“You’re going to have to massage me after. I’m too tall for this.” He smiles, back aching as he leans over you.
“Well come closer, come sit with me.” You urge. “But don’t stop, it feels too nice.”
“Straighten your legs, I’m going to sit on the back of your thighs.” He pushes your thigh closer to your other leg. He hops onto the bed and throws his pajama clad legs over your thighs.
Your breath hitches at the position and Spencer senses your body tense up. “You’ve gotta relax. Isn’t that the whole point of a massage?”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” He smiles before bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His hands rub along the curves of your neck before trailing down the sides of your body. His hands squeeze at the sides just under your armpits where your bra would be.
You bury your face in the pillow, suppressing a moan as best as you can.
“Can you breathe over there?” He laughs.
“Shut up and do your job.” You yell into the pillow. He laughs again and continues his work.
Spencer runs his hands down the curve of your lower back, fingers grazing just above your waistband. Your body reacts on its own. You let out a half moan half squeal as your hips grind into the bed.
Spencer already knew you were getting turned on just by your sounds but actually feeling it beneath him has him hooked. He scoots up, pushing you into the mattress deeper.
You let out a sigh and he sees your fingers grip onto the pillow case. His clothed cock is pressed up against your covered butt.
He decides to experiment and grind his hips against you, his hands kneading small circles to keep him grounded above you.
You’re both glad you can’t see each other’s faces or else you’d feel embarrassed enough to stop. Just as his hips come forward again, you push yours back, back arching slightly.
Spencer whimpers at the contact and finds himself falling forward. He barely catches himself before crushing you.
“Are you okay?” He whispers near your ear. His voice and breath on your ear cause a shiver to run through your entire being. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
“No, it’s really good. You’re good at this.” You turn your head to try and look at him.
“Want me to keep going?”
You nod and wiggle your hips. “I think you missed a spot.”
“Did I? Tell me where.” He sits back up and places his hands on the center of your back.
“Lower.” You mumble. His hands move down, pressing and gripping at your skin. He knows he didn’t miss anything, he made sure of that. His hands stop on your hips before he’s slowly grinding into you again.
He’s unbelievably hard, has been since your first suppressed moan. He settles his cock in the crease of your thighs and cheeks. He ruts his hips forward and watches you grind with him.
“Fuck…” he groans out in a low voice. “Feels good.”
“Don’t stop, baby.” You moan. Spencer is most likely leaving bruises with his tight grip but it feels so good to hear him and have him like this. You’re usually composed and respectful boyfriend, falling apart at just the touch of your bodies, not even naked, makes you forget any pain.
“I’ve been wanting this, you, for a while.” He grunts.
“I’ve been wanting you, Spencer. Couldn’t wait much longer.” You whine. The friction of your underwear and pajama bottoms, the bed sheets and mattress against your pussy has you panting.
It’s when his hands caress your sides, moving upwards higher as his fingertips graze the sides of your breasts, you feel him losing control.
“Shit, I’m close already.” He breaths.
“Yeah? Keep going.” You urge. Spencer pins you down into the mattress as his hips sloppily drill into you.
“Feels so fucking good.” He leans forward and drops his forehead to the back of your head. You prop yourself onto your elbows, sitting up only a bit. Spencer wraps his right arm around your shoulders, holding you against his chest as his left hand moves down to hold onto the side of your left thigh.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” You turn your head to meet his. His forehead now rests on your temple as he pants into your ear.
“God yes, I’m-“ He shuts his eyes, hands holding onto you for dear life. He doesn’t finish his sentence as he makes a mess in his boxers and pants. It almost feels never ending with ropes of his liquid painting his plaid boxers. He lets out a low groan. He feels sticky and messy and dirty as his breathing falters. His chest rises and falls against your back.
You smirk as he buries his face in your hair. He chuckles before shaking his head. “That’s just embarrassing.”
“It’s wasn’t.” You assure. “It was hot. Love hearing you like that.”
He feels his entire face, neck and ears turn hot. “Come lay with me.” He murmurs. He sits up and pulls you up with him. Before you can turn around, he’s pulled you back onto his chest. He lays haphazardly against the headboard and pillows.
“You don’t want to clean up?” You laugh as he wiggles you both into a comfortable position.
“No, wanna feel you.” He whispers huskily into your ear as you lay back against his chest. His right arm is wrapped around your chest, both breasts covered by his forearm as his left hand wraps lower, around your belly.
“I wanna feel you too.” You cover his hands with your own.
“I think you already did.” He laughs.
“Not fully!” You protest. “Take off your shirt.”
He doesn’t argue, pushing you forward so he can throw his shirt off. He tosses it onto the floor before yanking you back against him.
“Can I touch you?” He asks. “I want you to cum for me.”
You nod and began pulling your bottoms down. You lift your hips and shimmy the fabric off your legs before balling them up and tossing them somewhere.
Your head rests against his left shoulder as you sit between his open legs. You can feel his semi hard cock against your lower back and you picture how messy he is. The thought has you bending your knees and spreading them open. Your feet lay flat as you wait for him. His left arm wraps under your breast, fingers playing with your nipple.
You moan and arch your back slightly. He stops your movement with his arm in place. His right hand, trails down your stomach and soon dips into your folds. It’s almost humiliating how wet you are. Spencer reassures that’s not the case when he hums at the first touch.
“Wow,” he gasps. “Made you this wet from a little dry humping.” It’s slightly teasing.
“Shut up,” you laugh. “Can’t help getting wet at the sounds you were making.” You attempt to make fun of him but it falls short when his fingers find your clit. “Oh..”
Spencer pinches at your nipple as his middle and pointer finger make circles against your clit. Every so often his fingers dip lower to collect your wetness and smear it along your pussy.
“It’s not fair.” You moan. “I didn’t even get to touch you.”
“I thought your body aches, huh?” He kisses the shell of your ear. “I’m supposed to be helping you relax.”
“I’m relaxed.” You whine. Your body betrays you as your chest rapidly rises and falls. “Don’t stop.”
His fingers continue working your clit as his hand cups the whole of your boob. Your head lolls to the right and meets his jaw. You’re somehow relaxed, lazy, and sluggish against him as your insides burn and the intensity increases.
“I fucking love your hands.” You cry out. “Keep going please.”
“Anything for you my sweet girl.” From this angle he can see your face. Your head is thrown back against his chest, eyes closed and mouth in an “O.”
Spencer notices the way your legs twitch and your toes curl against the sheets. Your hands grip his thighs and he hears the soft sound of your voice rambling, “right there, right there, don’t stop, oh fuck, please please please, right there.”
It happens suddenly, your body tensing and spasming against his. You let out a long moan that turns into a sigh as you slump against him. Spencer keeps his arms wrapped around your body as he leans his cheek on top of your head.
“I would say this has been a successful first sleepover so far.” He jokes. You laugh, loudly and unfiltered. He follows suit and laughs with you. When the laughter dies down, he asks, “Should we go shower?”
“Together?” You twist to see him.
“Yeah, if you’re okay with that.” He shrugs.
“You’ve seen me naked, now I get to see you.” You pump your eyebrows twice.
“You will not be seeing me naked. You better keep your eyes focused on my neck, up. No wandering.”
“That’s so unfair, babe.” You push yourself up, grabbing a pillow to cover your body.
“Hey!” He scrambles off the bed. “Don’t cover up now.”
“If I can’t see your goodies, you can’t see mine.” You back away, turning to exit while pulling the pillow to cover your backside.
Spencer runs after you and pulls the pillow away before wrapping his arms around you. “Fine, you can see my goodies.” He rolls his eyes.
You wiggle your brows before pulling back and hooking your fingers into his bottoms. As you pull away from his body, you pull his waistband out. You peek down and see the inside of his pants. He’s still hard and covered in his mess. “Oh wow, I think I’ve found my second favorite body part of yours.”
121 notes ¡ View notes
saltcxrcle ¡ 7 months ago
Text
all maroon ∗∗ s. winchester
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summary: your day was long but at least sam's here to make you feel better
pairings: established sam winchester x reader, stanford sam winchester x gn afab! reader
word count: 2.7K
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warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', mentions of periods, no mention of gender besides reader having a menstrual cycle, fluff, kissing, making out, kinda edited
a/n: this was purely a self indulgent fic from the shit show of a day i had yesterday and i wish it had turned out to be like this instead of what actually happened, title is a lyric from flume by bon iver
anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!
𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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From the moment you woke up, you knew today was going to be a rough one. First, you had gotten your period as soon as you woke up to your alarm, and it leaked through your underwear, and your sheets were stained with your blood. You cursed under your breath and swiftly tore off your sheets and threw them in the washer before you quickly grabbed new underwear and the outfit that you had picked out the night before and took a quick shower. 
After you were showered and changed, you maybe had fifteen to twenty minutes to make your breakfast and pack lunch and dinner before you had to leave your apartment to find adequate parking and before your class started.
You lived about fifteen minutes away from Stanford since you couldn’t afford housing after your first year there and found an affordable apartment for yourself. Your mom and dad helped pay half of your rent while you worked on campus to help pay for the rest of the rent. You were at Stanford on a scholarship that covered tuition. You had financial aid to cover the rest, like books, school supplies, and groceries, and you put the rest of that money into your savings account. 
You left your apartment on time, but as soon as you hit the freeway, there was traffic that seemed to stretch on for miles. Apparently, there was construction being done in one of the lanes, and you spent thirty minutes in traffic before you made it to the parking lot with only minutes to spare before your class started. You lucked out on finding a parking spot quickly, and you all but sprinted to your class. It didn’t help that today was your busiest day, having two classes before your shift at the library and then one last class that went until nine o’clock at night. 
You were grateful that you had some gaps in between your classes, so you had time to eat lunch and do homework. But today, it seemed like God hated you because you didn’t have enough time to eat lunch since you had to type up a paper that you forgot you had assigned for the class you had tomorrow. You barely finished the paper before you were off to your next class. Once your second class was over, you made your way to the library for your shift, and you scarfed down your lunch, which was just a plain sandwich you had made that morning before you left. 
It felt like you couldn’t catch a break. It didn’t help that today was also the day that your boyfriend was busy with class, so you wouldn’t be able to see him until you were done with your shift. Even then, you would see him for a few minutes before you were whisked away to warm up your dinner and him to his dorm, where he’d study for the rest of the night. 
You were lucky that your shift today was slow, and you didn’t have much to do besides sit at the front desk and help students who needed assistance. Time flew by faster than you could even imagine as you were working on some homework from another class when someone rang the little bell at the front desk, making you look up from your laptop. 
Sam was looking as cute as ever, grinning at you as he gripped one of the straps on his shoulder. “Hey, I was wondering if you could help me look for something?” He said, a playful glint in his eyes. 
Sam’s smile was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Yeah, what were you looking for exactly?” You smirked, deciding to play along with him. 
Sam leaned down and rested his elbows on the tall check-in desk, getting to your eye level on the tall chair you were sitting on. “Yeah, I need help finding a way out of your eyes.” A cheeky smile grew on his face as he spoke. 
You pursed your lips before snorting loudly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you laughed, trying to keep down the noise in the quiet atmosphere of the library. You saw a slight red hue begin to grow on Sam’s cheeks as he snickered alongside you. 
“You’re such a dork, you know that?” You told him after you calmed down.
“Yeah, well I’m your dork.” 
You nodded. “That you are.” You leaned over the desk and pinched his cheek like a grandmother would her grandchild. “A really adorable one at that.” You cooed out before laughing lightly when he swatted your hand away and rubbed his reddened cheek. 
“I told you to stop doing that,” Sam grumbled out, acting like he was irked by it, but you could see a hint of a smile on his lips. 
“Awe, but it’s so cute seeing you all flustered.” You pouted before planting a quick kiss on the cheek you just pinched. “All better now?” 
Sam ducked his head down as a bashful smile grew on his face. You grinned at his shyness; you found it so endearing even after the two of you had been dating for a couple of months. 
“So, you’re here early.” You say as you sit back in your chair. 
Sam looked back at you and swiped the hairs that were falling into his eyes. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you before your shift ended.” 
“Well,” You glanced down at the watch Sam was wearing. “My shift is officially over now. But what’s up?” You asked him as you started to clean up the front desk of some of the homework you were working on. 
“I just wanted to know if you’re going back to your parents for the weekend?” 
You shook your head as you zipped up your backpack. “No, I’m swamped with homework and studying, so I told them that I’d visit next weekend.” Even if you were craving a home-cooked meal from your mom and wanted to see your parents, you needed to finish the work that your professors had assigned. 
You slung your backpack over your shoulders and rounded the desk to stand in front of Sam. You took a glance at the clock hanging on the nearby wall and winced. 
“I hate to cut this short, but I have to go and warm up my food if I want to eat before my last class.” You internally groaned at the thought of being stuck in a two-and-a-half-hour lecture. 
Sam opened his mouth to say something, but you had pushed up on your toes and pecked Sam’s lips before leaving him, clocking out, and leaving the library. What you didn’t see as you left was Sam shaking his head and smiling to himself as he went further into the library to study for a bit before heading back to his dorm. 
After speeding into the dining hall to warm up the leftovers you had from last night in the microwaves, you sat down at a table to eat but also worked on your homework. You were periodically looking at the time on your laptop to make sure you had enough time to eat and make it to your class fifteen minutes before it started. Once you had finished your dinner and most of the homework you were working on, you made your way to your next class. 
It was a short walk from the dining hall to the classroom where the lecture was being held. You went into the room, and it was empty. You felt your eyebrows furrow. There are usually some people in here already. You thought to yourself as you decided to leave the classroom.
A flash of white caught your eye as the door to the classroom closed, and there was a notice that today’s class was canceled. You let out a sigh of relief, but you could feel irritation brewing in your chest as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.  
The urge to let out a frustrated scream was at an all-time high, but you managed to turn away from the sheet of paper that seemed to mock you and left the building. The cool September air hit your heated cheeks as you walked through the quad, trying to tamp down the irrational emotions that were bubbling up to the surface. 
As much as you liked that class was canceled, you were mentally prepared to be in the room for a good two hours. Getting that heads up fifteen minutes before class was supposed to start was just the cherry on top of your already long day. You had a feeling that if you checked your student email, your professor would have emailed the entire class to say that it was canceled. If you were going to be honest, you just wanted to be put out of your misery. 
You were so out of it as you walked through the quad, and your feet led you to Sam’s dorm building. You were able to slip in with no problem, as someone had held the door open for you as they left and made your way to Sam’s room.
You tiredly knocked on the door. It swung open, and you didn’t even bother greeting your boyfriend as you brushed past him and into his room. You slung off your backpack, landing haphazardly on the ground with a quiet thud. You kicked your shoes off before launching your tired body face-first onto his bed. 
You felt the bed dip as Sam sat on it and placed his hand on your head. “Uhh, not that I’m not happy that you’re here, but I thought you had class right now.” 
You groaned loudly into his pillow, the noise muffled by the fabric, and you sat up on his bed, his hand falling from your head as you moved. You adjusted yourself so you were sitting in the middle of his bed with your knees pulled to your chest as you looked at your slightly confused boyfriend. 
“It got canceled.” You grumbled out as you picked at the hole in your jeans. 
“Hence why you’re here?” Sam moved his hand from the bed and wrapped it around your ankle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the exposed skin. 
You nodded, and Sam hummed in response. “Long day?” He asked as he looked you over, seeing how exhausted you were. 
“You don’t even know half of it.” You huffed out before falling sideways on his bed, your head hitting his pillow. 
Sam frowned. He didn’t like seeing you upset. “Do you want to talk about it?” 
“I think if I talk about my day, I’ll need you to shoot me point blank.” 
Sam’s eyebrows raised high as he looked at you surprised. “Uh, I’m not going to do that. But talking about it might make you feel better.” 
You shook your head as you reached for his wrist and tugged him towards you. “I don’t wanna. Just want to cuddle right now.” 
Sam huffed a laugh through his nose as a small smile grew on his face. He let you tug him closer and climbed on the bed. Sam settled on the bed next to you as you kicked your feet out from their curled position and shuffled closer to him. Your legs intertwined with his as he wrapped an arm around your waist. 
“Lift your head for me.” Sam murmured to you. 
You did as he said, and he wrapped his other around your head, cushioning it as you laid on his bicep and his hand rested on your back. Once you both were settled, you let out a contented sigh as you stared at Sam’s hazel eyes. Your face was so close to his that you felt his breath fan over your face. 
“Did I interrupt your studying?” You asked him with a quiet voice, realizing that you very much could have distracted him because of your moody attitude. 
He shook his head. “No, I had just finished when you came in.” Sam gave you a half smile before tipping his chin up to kiss your forehead. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your day?” He muttered against your skin. 
“No, I’d much rather hear about yours.” 
Sam pulled back slightly and raised an eyebrow at you. “You sure?” 
You nodded. You felt marginally better from when you came in as you were in Sam’s arms. 
Sam’s expression was one of ‘okay then’ before he jumped into talking about his day, and you listened to your boyfriend with a slight smile on your face. You snuggled deep into his embrace and eventually moved your head to rest in the crook of his neck. 
“Are you still listening?” Sam asked as he felt you smile against his neck. 
“Mhm. Just keep talking.” 
Sam let out a small chuckle at your antics and continued to talk about what he had seen while walking to his last class of the day. You breathed in Sam’s comforting scent; the notes of citrus, mint, mahogany, and something that was just distinctly Sam filled your senses, and you could feel the tenseness leave your body. 
Sam was still talking, but you weren’t exactly listening, and you couldn’t resist kissing the small freckle on his neck. He suddenly stopped talking as you planted soft kisses on the warm skin of his neck. Sam let out a soft noise as you nipped at his pulse point, moved his hand that was on your back to your neck, and pulled away from you slightly. 
“What are you doing?” You could see the corners of Sam’s lips twitching as he asked you the question. 
“Kissing your neck.” You stated it as if it was obvious because it was. 
“What happened to listening to my day?”
“Can’t I multitask?” 
Sam laughed at the serious face you made as you said it, and you couldn’t help but break your serious facade and laugh along with him. Your foul mood was finally melting away. 
Sam rested his forehead against yours as he calmed down, staring deep into your eyes. “I love you.” He said softly. 
You couldn’t help the tender smile stretching across your lips. “I love you too.” 
Sam grinned before kissing you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into the warm feeling of Sam’s soft lips against yours. The hand that was on your neck had moved to cup your cheek, and his arm tightened around your waist as he deepened the kiss. The world faded around you as you got lost in Sam as he moved his lips against yours. Sam managed to push you on your back as he was slotted in between your legs. Your hands found themselves in his hair as the soft kiss turned into a passionate makeout. 
Sam consumed your senses as his tongue swiped your bottom lip, and you let him in with a little fight as his tongue played and swirled with yours. A slight noise that was akin to a whine left your lips as his lips left yours. Sam didn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours, but you realized that you were out of breath, and the two of you were panting against each other’s lips.
A blissful smile was on Sam’s face as he hovered over you. His lips were slightly swollen and slick with spit from the two of you kissing, and you couldn’t help but kiss him softly. Sam smiled against you before melting into your kiss. The kiss didn’t last long as you pulled away, Sam chasing your lips for a moment, making you let out a little giggle. Sam’s eyes were alight with joy as he heard your laugh. 
Sam couldn’t hold back and planted soft kisses on your forehead, nose, and cheeks before giving you a sweet but chaste kiss on your lips and pulling away from you. You all but sunk into the affection that Sam was showering you in, but then you started to pout when he moved from on top of you to next to you and pulled you into his side. 
He kissed your temple before the two of you settled in comfortable silence, content with just being by each other’s sides. You had no clue how long you guys stayed like that until you dozed off in Sam’s arms. The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was Sam's lips on your cheek and wrapping his arms tighter around you. 
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thesassypadawan ¡ 9 months ago
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💙Hayden (Hockey Loving DILF)🤍
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Puck Slut .5 (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: After meeting at a local sports bar, Hayden and you hit it off over your shared love of hockey. What starts off as an innocent friendship, soon progresses into a few casual dates. Which some, to no surprise, involve watching your teams face off against one another. Tonight’s date is a bit different. Even though your usual bet is in place, loser buys the winner dinner the next time you two go out. There’s a new, more interesting twist this time of… spice it up more.
Puck Slut 1 (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: It’s yours and Hayden’s favorite time of the nhl season, when your teams faceoff against one another.  The usual bet is in place, loser wears the winner’s team shirt and makes breakfast tomorrow.  This time though there’s the new, more interesting twist of…fun and cum. (Hope you enjoy Puck Slut .5!)
Puck Slut 2 (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: It’s yours and Hayden’s favorite time of the nhl season, when your teams faceoff against one another. And, as usual, you two have a bet in place, loser pays for the tab. Along with yet another interesting little twist…squeeze and tease. (Hope you enjoy Puck Slut .5 and Puck Slut 1!)
Puck Slut 3 (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Cumming Soon
Puck Slut 3.5 (Hayden x FemReader) *Blurb, Smut*
Summary: It's just a harmless Devil's Night prank...what's the worse that can happen? (Hope you enjoy Puck Slut .5, Puck Slut 1, and Puck Slut 2!)
Relaxing (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: Hayden’s been working out hard to get that Daddy Vader bod once more and boy does it show!  You just want to help him ‘relax’ after a long day of bulking up and what better way than a nice, steamy, hot shower.
Big Boy (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: Thinking you did a good enough job hiding your ‘little’ thing for ‘big boys’, you’re not only surprised when Hayden discovers it…but that he’s also totally into it too.
Morning Wood (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: What better a way to start the day than having a good fuck with some morning wood…especially when it’s Hayden’s.
Missed You (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: You miss your big dork badly, so when he comes home…  Well, you just gotta make up for lost time.
Not A Date *part 1* (Hayden x FemReader) *Fluff*
Summary: You never thought you would get an opportunity like this! Not only are you doing your internship on the set of Revenge of the Sith, but you also get to work one-on-one with Hayden. Who you can’t tell if he’s just being nice or if it’s something a little more than that.
So Proud *part 2* (Hayden x FemReader) *Fluff and Smut*
Summary: (Takes place during the filming of ROTS) You’re so proud of Hayden and you feel like words aren’t enough…that maybe you should show him instead. (Hope enjoy part 1!)
Broke The Internet...Again *part 1* (Hayden x FemReader) *Fluff*
Summary: Just a silly, little drabble about the whole Empire photos being released. Just thought it would be fun to share.
Broke The Internet...Again *part 2* (Hayden x FemReader) *smut*
Summary: Part 2 to my silly, little drabble about the whole Empire photos being released. )Hope you enjoy part 1!)
ChocolatĂŠe (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: All you want is to make Hayden some special treats for Valentines Day, but he has better ideas of what to use that gooey, melted chocolatĂŠe for.
Come Clean (Hayden x FemReader) *Fluff*
Summary: You finally get to go along with Hayden to a con!  And you, being the little dork you are, insist on getting a pic with your bf…just like everyone else!  Everything is going smoothly, but this one sleemo in line just won’t leave you alone.  It’s almost like they know about what’s going on between you two.
Fat Bottom *part 1* (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: Hayden was never really an ass man until he met you. Especially now that your ‘happy weight’ has set in, and that booty be popping…out of them leggings.
Sweater Stretchers *part 2* (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: Hayden was never really a curves enthusiast until he met you. Especially now that you ‘happy weight’ has found its way to that booty and them boobies…just more for him to love. Hope you enjoy Fat Bottom *part 1*!)
His Hoodie (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: It’s too damn early… It’s too damn cold… Lucky for you though, Hayden left his hoodie behind today. The one that’s oh so warm and smells so deliciously of him.
Little Red Dress (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: The low cut little red dress and matching heels, they just drive Hayden wild. So much so that he can’t wait to get you home and…enjoy a little show.
The Master (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: Saying that Hay is good at edging is a SEVERE understatement…the man is the master (bad joke) when it comes to it.
Like Rabbits *part 1* (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: After realizing that Hay and you share the same desire, you two have been acting like a pair of horny rabbits. ‘Hopping’ all day and night long.
Maple Flavored Sausage *part 2* (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: It’s all you want…the one craving you want the most…Hayden’s maple flavored sausage. And, of course, he isn’t even around to help ‘satisfy’ it. Hopefully he comes home soon and ‘gives’ you as much as you like…and then some. (Hope you enjoy Like Rabbits!)
Take Charge (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: There’s this one thing you’ve been wanting to try for some time now. A thing that really peeks your interest, but makes you so freaking nervous. Because, well, how the hell does a hamster go about wrangling a damn moose?!
Birthday Boy (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: It’s your man’s birthday! A day filled with all the love, presents, and…special ‘treats’.
Repair Kit (Hayden x FemReader) *Fluff and Smut*
Summary: You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. A verily simple, straight forward job…except when it comes to a pair of dumbasses. Who have no problem texting you in the middle of the night when they overdo it practicing…or when your new boyfriend accidentally gets out drunk. And tells you some things.
Feel The Force (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: It’s May the Fourth and what better way to spend it than with your big dork of a boyfriend, the dark lord himself, Hayden! Even though you two aren’t able to see each other all that much during the day…you still manage to squeeze in some quality time to ‘feel the force’.
Daddy's Girl (Hayden x FemReader) *Smut*
Summary: All right, you’ll admit it. You’ve called Hayden it multiple times before…just never to his actual face. Because you’d either die of embarrassment or…who knows, maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Halloween Costumes (Hayden x FemReader) *Headcanon, Smut*
Summary: A certain moose decides to help you celebrate your favorite night of the year right.  By fulfilling one of your corniest horniest dreams.
Make Them Blue (Hayden x FemReader) *Blurb, Smut*
Summary: It’s No Nut November and a certain moose was too polite to tell his friends no this year to their stupid, little bet.  Somehow managing to make it through almost the whole month, he finally caves after getting a taste of a major adrenaline rush.  Wanting more of that electrifying feeling and thrill.
Christmas Tree (Hayden x FemGremReader) *Smut*
Summary: Wanting to have a little holiday date, you decide to mix things up a bit.  Do something from the usual corny movie, cocoa, and cuddling.  That involves two of your favorite passions and some paint with a twist.
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b33zlebubz ¡ 1 year ago
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That last ask inspired me so how about reader gets REALLY bad migraines and just disappears for the night, missing dinner and then breakfast the next morning. The team goes to investigate!
yet another drabble I wrote under the counter at work oupe
TAGS: unedited, silly shenanigans, fluff, platonic found family, no content warnings RECKLESS ABANDON MASTERLIST
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It seems they all suddenly want to pay you a visit and you couldn’t be more annoyed.
All the stress of everything seems to have all caught up to you at once.  With the lights too bright, your stomach attacking your insides, and the invisible band that seems to be continuously tightening around your skull—you’re practically bedridden.  
Slowly, the team begins to notice, and it starts with Price.  You’re not at dinner and he doesn’t know what to make of it.
He figures, at first, you’ve fallen asleep.  You don’t answer the door when he knocks so he leaves you to get some rest—knowing you need it.  He shoots you a text to let you know that him and the others will be busy with briefings and training the rest of the night to which you respond, hours later, explaining your predicament.  
The next day, Gaz is at your door.  His knock is softer than Price’s.  This time, you sigh and answer from your bed.
“What?”  Your voice is gravelly and muffled by the pillow your face is pressed into.
“Heading off-base for breakfast if you wanna come along,” he says, before adding, “Soap and Ghost are with me.”
“I’ll pass.”
There’s muffled whispering on the other side of the door.  British concern and Scottish protest.  Then, Ghost’s voice comes through the door.
“You alright in there, kid?”  
“Fine,”  you answer.  “Sick.”
Deciding not to press, they all decide to leave you alone for the time being—their voices fading to hush whispers as they disappear down the hallway.  You’re quick to sink back into a restless sleep, the uncomfortable cot stiff on your back and the pillow too flat for your neck.  Your peace doesn’t last long, though, because about two hours later you hear another knock.  
You wait for the sound of a voice, or maybe a second knock, but they never come.  Instead, there’s just the shuffle of a bag.
Your curiosity, momentarily, outweighs your pain.
Slowly you get to your feet.  Deciding against the dreaded lightswitch, you grab for your phone and use the light of your lockscreen to guide you to your door.  Then, slowly, you turn the doorknob and peak outside.
Soap is crouched in front of your door.  Surprised, he freezes in the act of placing a plastic bag on the ground—and you both just stare at each other for a moment.  
“What are you doing?���  You ask slowly.
He scoffs.  Instead of leaving the bag on the ground, he tosses it to your chest and you catch it.
“The Captain said you were havin’ migraines,”  he pushes himself to his feet.
“So?”
“So—I know the shit they’ll give you down at the med-bay doesn’t do fuck,”  he gestures to the bag.  “So me and Gaz went and got you shit that does.”
You eye him suspiciously, the very prospect of him doing something nice for you foreign and off-putting.  You’re shocked, to put it simply, after having done nothing but fight with him since you’ve arrived on base.  When you don’t immediately reply, Soap takes a breath.
“Anyway, I have shit to do,” he shoves his hands in his pockets before he turns to leave.  “And you’re welcome.”
You stare after him for a moment, still processing the interaction.  It’s only when he’s sauntered off down the hallway do you retreat back into your room and open the bag, expecting cheap, off-brand Tylenol or maybe some tea.  Instead, what you find causes you to let out an audible sigh of relief.
Excedrin, a water bottle, and a cold compress.  Thank fucking god.
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