#why was it shelved for so long? who knows
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keen-li · 3 days ago
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What you need | 04
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Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? Do you even know what you need.
Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.
Jungkook x fem reader.
Wc: 3.5k
Warning: not proof read.
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You can be mad at Jungkook for many reasons, but not for when he tells the truth. It’s not that you’re really mad at him; you’re mad at the fact that he was right. The truth is a huge pill to swallow, and you’ve got the smallest throat in the world.
Jungkook calls you stubborn, but you call yourself strong-willed—strong-willed to avoid the truth and advice, especially from Jungkook. He dishes out honesty quite well; every one of your friends does.
Like in any other friendship, your stubbornness tends to cause you and Jungkook to butt heads. But he’s learned to navigate around it, and one way is to let you be. Talking to you while you’re in a mood never gets anywhere. That’s what he did last night, and the guilt ate him raw.
He’ll wait for you to talk to him, and wait he will. But it’s never for long.
“You don’t have the chocolate ones?” Your gaze avoids him as you ask. You've been avoiding eye contact all morning, and it's been difficult considering you've been bumping into him while trying to make breakfast—a breakfast he would have gladly made for you.
Childish is what you assume Jungkook is thinking, but he should be well aware of how childish you are. In addition to being childish, you have an intense fear of confrontation. You’d rather hide than tend to an issue of importance; it’s easier.
Jungkook doesn't see it that way. He prefers to deal with things as they arise, especially when it comes to a dispute between you both. But that’s not to say he’s perfect; he can be a coward too, though he leans toward not letting it show.
Your body is turned away from him but still standing close, wanting to feel his warmth—something to remind you that he doesn’t completely hate you for lashing out. He gets you; he hopes you know it.
Jungkook’s eyes scan his kitchen shelves in search of that chocolate cereal you love. He got it for when you come over. He’s not a huge fan of it; they always stay on the same shelf, the one above where he stands. “They’re here.” He leans over to reach the top shelf where they were in plain sight. Contemplating whether you actually didn’t know or you wanted to fill the awkward air between the two of you, he hands the box to you.
You mumble a little thank you as he hands it to you. His hand lingers on the box a second longer as he considers being the one to start talking. He’s waiting for you, sure, but he’s also aware of how hard it is for you to address even the most minuscule of conflicts.
Your night was cold, like your recent previous nights. Even though Jungkook made sure you had the thickest blanket he owned, it wouldn’t be fair to blame it on the weather because it’s warm outside, even at night. Blaming his air conditioner wouldn’t be fair either; Jungkook gives you all the freedom to turn it up or down.
Maybe it’s the fact that you went to sleep ‘mad’ at Jungkook or yourself. The line is very blurry when it comes to who gets the blame. That’s your thought process.
You know Jungkook, and you’re well aware he won’t talk to you unless you speak to him first. You’re sure he feels bad in some way, and you feel bad for it. He shouldn’t feel bad; he was right. Why the heck are you even blaming him?
So, after a large gulp down the rock, you decide to break the awkward and painful silence. “Are you mad?” It comes out as a whisper, and he barely hears it.
Jungkook is quick to hear the mumbling from you but can't quite comprehend the sound. "Huh?” He turns to you, faced away from him, which adds to his confusion. Are you talking to him or not?
“I’m asking if you’re upset?” You try to make it louder, but it’s just as low as before. Why do you get so timid? You hate confrontation so much.
Jungkook chuckles, and for a moment, you feel like he’s mocking you, but it’s far from his intention. You’re just amusing when you behave like this. “Y/N, I can’t hear you,” he states in a volume you should try to emulate.
“Don’t tell me you can’t look at me.” He turns back to his breakfast, which he abandoned to attend to you. “And when I tell you you’re like a baby, you want to disagree?” He smiles to himself. One thing Jungkook is never going to do is force you to do something.
“I’m not,” you try to argue as you finally turn to him, but he doesn’t do
the same this time, too focused on his food. A smirk lines his lips perfectly, and faint dimples adorn his cheeks. Is he relishing in this?
“Look at how you were cowering away like I was gonna bite you.” He spreads butter on his toast, unlike you, who prefers not to have bread in toast form for breakfast.
The air thins, and you feel more relaxed to just speak. In exchange for anxiety, sadness sets in. You pout.
“Sorry,” you mumble. He’s aware of what you mean, and it’s funny how quickly and shyly you say it.
“Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head at you. Once the silence sinks in again, Jungkook decides to help you. “Tell me. What did you want to say?” His soft voice ushers you on, along with his relaxed body turned toward you.
“I was asking if you’re upset.” You lean against his counter and bite down on your lower lip—an act to hide from Jungkook's gaze?
He furrows his brows in confusion. His breakfast can wait. He walks to you and stops when his feet hit yours. Placing his hands on his hips, he asks, “Upset with who? You?” His body towers over you, and you feel his soft eyes analyze your features.
When you nod, he smiles and moves in to wrap his arms around you. “Awh, bunny,” he coos, taking your face into his palms.
“I’m not mad at you; if anything, I’m more upset with myself.”
“Why would you be mad at yourself? I was wrong.” Your voice is soft and regretful. The last person on this earth you’d want to argue with is Jungkook, and you hate it when you do. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to get mad.”
“Yeah, but I should’ve phrased myself better.” He looks down at you, and when you realize just how close you are, you scoot away a bit. Jungkook catches it and slowly lets you go. Awkwardness sets in, but this time it’s in a different form—a form bearing the image of your ex.
You’re comfortable with Jungkook, and you’ll say that a million times, but something about being so close to him makes you think about being with Yunho. Yunho had always been the person you ran to when you weren’t okay (while you were together), and he’d hold you just like that. His loving eyes looking down at you, his warmth keeping you closer to him on colder or lonely days. But since you broke up, Jungkook has been the one to be there for you like always. Maybe it’s because you can’t get Yunho out of your head; you’ve been missing him of late, and it’s messing with your mind. You haven’t been able to go back to the way you were; that’s probably the reason. You just hope Jungkook can realize that.
You hope you get your act together soon. You'd hate to see Yunho on the face of every man who cares about you, especially on Jungkook's.
“You’re entitled to your feelings; don’t ever apologize for that.” Jungkook, now feeling a shift in warmth, turns to his now cold toast. If he puts it back in the toaster, it’ll go back to being warm, right?
“So, you’re not mad?”
He shakes his head. “But I am mad that you make me buy those for you.” His tone and the air around you shift back to playful, and the smile on his face makes you smile as well.
You giggle. “And you’re cute for it.”
“You’re gonna have to pay me back one day for how much I’ve spent.”
You place your hand on your heart in feigned patriotism to your words. “And I’ll give you back every penny.”
Jungkook laughs, knowing he wouldn’t take them anyway. He enjoys buying them for you.
Life really knows how to bring you back to reality, and it does seem to enjoy seeing you unhappy.
“If you won’t make it, it’s fine,” you speak to Jungkook through your phone. The call has lasted longer than it should because he can’t stop apologizing. “Jungkook, if you can’t make it, it’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your eyes recognize the words on your paper, but you aren't paying them any mind.
“Are you saying lunch with me is not that big of a deal, Y/L/N?”
Ever since you two started eating lunch together, you’ve never missed a day, but today is different. Jungkook informed you he had some extra work that would overlap with your planned schedule, so you would be having lunch by yourself. And that’s fine.
You don’t mind at all; it’s not like it’s on purpose. Of course,
you do enjoy eating lunch with him, and you are sad about not having him around for the lunch you might not eat. But it’s life, and sooner or later, you two will be consumed with responsibilities that you won’t be able to hang out at all. You don’t like the thought of it, but you have to acknowledge the possibility.
You had a taste of it when you were in a relationship with Yunho. You and Jungkook didn’t hang out as much, and your teasing was reduced to respect your relationship. It’s only a matter of time before Jungkook gets a girlfriend, and you have to spend less time together. A girlfriend to share things with—or you will get a boyfriend, or at least a fling.
It may seem like you’re bad friends, but it’s not that way. Even if either of you were in a relationship, you’d still hang out and call each other; that wouldn’t change. It’s not like you’re only friends when you’re both single. But it’s obvious that when one is in a relationship, their time will be cut down compared to when they were single. And that’s okay; it’s not something you fret over, like you and Jungkook will stop being friends. Never.
Jungkook definitely understood and respected your relationship when you were with Yunho, and you still found time to hang out. Besides, all this applies to Willoe and Jimin as well. Even though it seems like you’re paired off, you’re all still friends in the same way.
You do tend to wonder what it’ll be like when Jungkook gets a girlfriend, though. Over your years of friendship, he has had some flings and situationships, but he’s never had a relationship that involved him being emotionally attached. He’s not a player in any sort of way; he wouldn’t toy with a girl’s heart. He just never made an emotional commitment to them, which he made known to them. He always made it clear that he wasn’t into relationships. Maybe he’s non-committal? He’s never really taken the time to sit down and think about it. But he’s well aware that, for some reason, he’s not looking for a relationship, and lately, even sexual relationships haven’t been on his mind.
You chuckle. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Playing with the pen in your hand, you contemplate even going for lunch. You do have work too, though it’s something that can wait. Plus, you don’t feel hungry anyway. This was one of the reasons you liked going for lunch with Jungkook. Apart from getting to hang out with him, it kept you eating. If Jungkook is there, you are forced to eat and not get distracted. Because eating alone will lead you to have unwarranted thoughts about Yunho, and you’d end up losing your appetite. You won’t deny how your lunches are the only time you eat a proper meal. At home, when you’re alone, all you eat is snacks.
“I know,” you aren’t able to see it, but on the other side, an angry and short Isabel signals for Jungkook to get off the phone. He furrows his brows at her. “Anyway, I’ll call you later. Sorry for not being able to make it.”
There he goes again. You smile. In the background, you can hear a female voice call his name in a warning tone, and by his rushed words, you can tell he’s on borrowed time. He would’ve ended this call long ago, but he enjoys dragging them out.
“Cut the call, Jungkook.” You want him to as well, and he can’t help but pout at how everyone wants him to end his call.
“I will. Don’t forget to eat your lunch.”
“I will.”
You won’t.
Soon the line beeps, and you’re left with his contact to look at and the candid picture of him you took. You doubt he's aware of its existence. If he saw it, he'd make you delete it and put a 'better one.' But it's cute, and you like it.
The smile you have on your face is wiped off when you’re met with Hoseok’s looming figure. Now, when you look at it, why is his figure more noticeable now?
“Not going for lunch?” he asks in a tone you can’t decipher the intention behind.
You start to arrange the papers on your desk for no reason and in no particular order. “No.”
“Why?” he shoots back immediately.
You sigh as you look at him. You did want to hurl back a snarky comment, but you’re running low on energy. “Not hungry.”
“Shame.” He says, and you prepare yourself for what he wants to say. “The boss wanted to have lunch with you, but since you’re not hungry, I’ll tell—”
“When did I say I wasn’t hungry?” He’s about
to argue, and you see it on his face, but you step in before he can say anything.
“He wants to have lunch with me for real?” You stand and eye him skeptically.
Hoseok nods, not much enthusiasm behind it.
You stare at him with an I-hope-you-aren’t-lying look.
Hoseok loves to mess with you, but the good thing about him is that he knows when not to.
“Go see for yourself.”
Your stomach fills with butterflies of nervousness as you walk, your previous worries forgotten. You turn to give Hoseok a last look, and he shrugs.
It would be a big deal for you if your boss wanted to have lunch with you. This means a lot.
Who are you kidding? You’re starving.
“Again?” you groan.
Jungkook pulls at his lip before he speaks. “I know.” He sighs. “There’s a lot of work here for some reason.” He explains.
It’s been several days, and the weekend approaches, yet you two still haven’t been able to have lunch together. It’s life; you accept that, but it’s still such a bummer. Plus, you’ve been meaning to talk to Jungkook about something—maybe tell him why you and Yunho actually broke up.
You’ve been reflecting on it, and maybe after you talk to him about it, you’ll stop thinking about Yunho.
“It's alright,” you say with a sad pout. Jungkook can feel it through the phone, and it breaks his heart. “Wanted to talk to you,” you say, and Jungkook shifts his feet that were stationary on the cement floors of the workshop.
The air shifts, and concern grows at your tone. “About?” he waits for your answer, which he already knows.
“Yunho.” It’s through a heavy heart and a sour throat that you’re even able to say his name. “But since you’re busy, it’s fine; we can talk when you’re free.”
“Yeah, sure.” He is worried, but there’s nothing much he can do in this moment, and he knows it’s not something that can be talked about on the phone, especially when you’re both at work. So, he makes an internal promise to make time for you.
“Talk to you later,” you say, your voice far from okay.
“I haven’t seen her in a week and some days,” Jungkook informs, his mind still in thought. “Plus, I don’t think it’s the best time to tell her; it seems like she’s still hung up on him.”
Of course, you are; it’s only been what? A month?
“Yeah, Willoe was talking to her yesterday, and I think I heard her crying.” He follows up, explaining that he hasn’t had the time to call you yet.
Jungkook’s heart physically drops, and his friend can clearly see that.
“Must not be easy keeping that secret from her.” Jungkook leans back into his couch, clearly disturbed.
It’s definitely hard keeping anything from you, but this, especially, has taken a toll on him. A whole month? He never thought he’d keep something from you for this long. Does he even want to tell you? Keeping it is killing him, but the thought of you knowing and seeing what it might do to you kills him even more. To make it worse, it’s been more evident lately that you’ve been thinking about the bastard. He can tell when you do.
You space out and just forget everything around you. And that sad look on your face isn’t missed by him. He wants to do everything in his power to make you feel better, but there’s only so much he can do. Plus, Isabel has him doing extra hours at work, which has just made your time spent together less. He can only imagine how alone you’ve felt.
He knows you’ve got Willoe and Jimin, but for some reason, you’ve all been busy. Jimin is trying to get down on a project he’s on, Willoe is out on a work trip, and he himself is working overtime. He knows you’ve been busy too, especially with trying to get your promotion. You’re only able to call each other on the phone. And sometimes those calls aren’t guaranteed because when he’s heading home from work, you’re asleep.
Or ignoring him. He chuckles; he knows you’d never seriously ignore him.
“It pisses me off every time I think about it, man.” Jungkook positions the camera so Jimin can see him. “Did I tell you I fucking punched him?” Jungkook smiles at the memory.
Jimin raises his brows in shock. “Seriously?” Jimin laughs at the thought. “You should’ve told me so that I could get my fair share too.”
Jungkook laughs. He takes a drink of his beer.
And with that, he’s reminded of the weighty task ahead—telling you about taking a swing at your ex-boyfriend. If he had to break the news to someone else that their boyfriend was cheating, it would be straightforward. But with you, it feels like a heavy stone lodged in his chest. The thought of seeing the pain in your eyes causes him physical anguish. Over the years, you’ve become someone incredibly special to him, and the idea of you suffering cuts deeper than he ever expected. He’s never cared for anyone the way he cares for you.
“You’re gonna tell her, though?” Jungkook scoffs, trying to mask his uncertainty as he sees his blond friend raise an eyebrow at him.
“I will,” he replies, but the conviction in his voice falters. Jimin can see right through him, and that gnawing doubt eats away at Jungkook. He knows he has your best interests at heart, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt you further. The thought of you finding out about Yunho’s betrayal sends a chill down his spine.
Jimin shakes his head, concern etched across his face. “I feel so bad for her,” he says, knowing he’d never voice that sentiment to you directly, aware of how much you despise pity. “She said she’s taking a break from dating, so I hope that helps her.”
Jungkook hums in agreement, but the relief is fleeting. “Don’t tell Willoe, though,” he says, his voice dropping as if speaking the name might summon trouble.
“Really?” Jimin’s tone rises, incredulous.
Jungkook shoots him a warning glare, and Jimin rolls his eyes in response. “Fine, I won’t tell her.”
“Don’t. If she knows, then Y/N will automatically find out,” Jungkook insists, the urgency in his voice palpable.
Jimin nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. “Gotta go now,” he says, glancing at his watch. Jungkook’s attention drifts to his phone, where a message from work blinks at him.
“Hey, they need me at work,” he mutters, the words feeling heavy on his tongue.
“Alright, it was nice talking to you,” Jimin replies, but Jungkook can hear the underlying concern.
Jungkook pauses, feeling the sincerity of the moment weigh down on him. “So sincere, gross,” he retorts, trying to lighten the mood, but it falls flat.
“Just say it back,” Jimin presses, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.
“Fine. It was nice chilling with you too, Jimin.” He cringes at the words, the smug smile on Jimin’s face only amplifying his discomfort.
“Love you,” Jimin says, half-joking, but the sentiment hangs in the air like an unspoken truth.
“Don’t push it,” Jungkook replies, though the words feel hollow. Jimin laughs, but Jungkook knows he would never say it back. “But if I were Y/N, you would’ve said it back,” Jimin teases, and Jungkook’s heart sinks further.
“Yeah, but you’re not.”
As he leans back into his couch, a storm of thoughts churns in his mind. He contemplates the idea of telling you, but the fear grips him. You’ve gone a month without knowing the truth—what could a little more time do? He wrestles with the notion that he should wait until you’re more healed, but each passing moment feels like a betrayal in itself. The longer he holds back, the more he feels he’s complicit in Yunho’s deceit.
What if you never truly heal? What if you deserve to know the truth now? The internal conflict rages within him. He knows he has to make a decision soon, but right now, he can’t shake the feeling that revealing the truth would only add to your pain.
The clock ticks in the background, and Jungkook knows he can’t ignore this forever. The question lingers: when is the right time to shatter your world and reveal the truth?
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a/n: writing this chapter has been a rollercoaster for me, from the lack of motivation and inspiration to the elephant in the room which is the fact that this was supposed to be 20k words long. sigh. from 20k to 3k
I had so much written and in a way I loved but I don't know what happened and the file got lost. and because of that I lost a lot of motivation and just wanted to be over with the chapter.
sorry for the shitty chapter, the following will be better. please don't let this chapter or the previous be your impression of this series. it's gonna get better. love y'all and thanks for the support and patience. (if you were even waiting lol)
Tagged: @jksusawife@mother2monsters@gimeow
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nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 days ago
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Warnings: Mature Themes,Explicit Content Sexual Content,Strong Language,Intense Sexual Content, Emotional Intensity,Sensitive Topics (About marriage)
P.S I wanted to tell you this story is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent any real-life events or individuals. It is solely for entertainment purposes.
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Craving the Forbidden
The rhythmic hum of the vacuum cleaner filled the mansion, steady and soothing as I moved through the sprawling halls. This place was a fortress of luxury—high ceilings, dark wood, and towering windows that framed views of an endless horizon. It felt like a castle, but it was so quiet it might as well have been a mausoleum.
I’d been working here for two years, long enough to know every creak of the floorboards, every shadow that shifted with the setting sun. Long enough to know the man who lived here, too.
James Hetfield.
He wasn’t just my employer; he was a rock god. Frontman of Metallica, a legend whose name carried more weight than I could fathom. And yet, he was also something else. Something infinitely more complicated.
James Hetfield wasn’t supposed to be kind. Or thoughtful. Or so... human. But he was. And that’s what made working here harder than it should’ve been.
I dusted the shelves in the library, my hands steady even though my thoughts weren’t. I had no right to think about him the way I did. He was married. Famous. Completely out of reach.
And yet, I couldn’t help the way my chest tightened every time I saw him.
The front door clicked open, the sound reverberating through the empty halls. My breath caught. I wasn’t expecting him.
“Y/n?” His deep, gravelly voice echoed down the hall.
I straightened, smoothing my apron before stepping out into the foyer. He stood there, guitar case slung over one shoulder, sunglasses pushed up into his tousled hair. His presence filled the room like a storm rolling in—effortless, magnetic, dangerous.
“James,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I didn’t think you’d be home today.”
“Change of plans,” he said, setting the guitar down by the door. His lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. “Thought I’d work from home for a bit.”
I nodded, clutching my cleaning supplies tightly. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
“You never do.” The words were soft, but they carried an undercurrent that made my pulse quicken.
I ducked my head and hurried back to the kitchen, my cheeks burning. The hours crawled by as I moved through the house, each room feeling smaller and more suffocating with him here. His presence was impossible to ignore—the faint sound of his guitar drifting from the living room, the occasional creak of floorboards as he moved upstairs.
By the time I reached his office, my nerves were frayed. This was the one room I avoided whenever I could. It felt too personal. The walls were lined with gold records, guitars propped in every corner, and framed photos that told the story of his life. Photos of his band, his kids, his wife.
Those pictures always made my chest ache.
I pushed open the door, steeling myself as I set down the bucket of supplies. My hands trembled slightly as I dusted the bookshelves, each movement careful and deliberate.
“You don’t have to do that right now.”
His voice startled me, and I turned sharply to see him standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed, but his expression was anything but casual.
“Sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His eyes locked on mine, filled with something raw, something that made it impossible to breathe.
“I was just finishing up,” I said quickly, moving to grab my supplies. “I’ll leave—” “Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice softer now. “Stay. Please.”I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. “Why?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his confidence faltering. “Because I need to tell you something.”
The room seemed to shrink around us, the air thick and charged. I leaned against the desk, gripping the edge for support. “What is it?”
James sighed, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words was too much to carry. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you.”
My breath hitched, my grip tightening on the desk. “You shouldn’t say that.”
“I know,” he said, his gaze steady despite the crack in his voice. “But it’s the truth. And I think you feel it too.”
Tears burned in my eyes as I shook my head. “James, you’re married. This isn’t right.”
His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “My marriage has been broken for years, Y/n. We’re just holding on for the kids, for the image, for everything except love.”
“That doesn’t make this okay,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
“I know it doesn’t,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. How I’ve felt for a long time.”
The words hit me like a tidal wave, breaking down every defense I’d built over the past two years. I stared at him, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I don’t know how to stop feeling this way,” I admitted, my voice trembling.
James closed the distance between us, his hand brushing against mine. The touch was soft, tentative, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “Then don’t,” he whispered.
I looked up at him, my resolve crumbling as his fingers gently traced the back of my hand. Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I leaned into him. His arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, pulling me against his chest.
The space between us disappeared entirely, his body pressing against mine as we sank deeper into the couch. His hands, steady and deliberate, slid over my waist and up my back, drawing me closer. Each touch sent a shiver racing through me, my skin coming alive beneath his fingertips.
His lips never left mine for long, returning again and again with an urgency that grew with every passing second. When he pulled back to catch his breath, his forehead rested against mine, his lips brushing lightly over my cheek, my jaw.
“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick and low, a plea more than a word.
I tilted my head, granting him the space to let his lips trail down the line of my neck. The heat of his breath, the faint scrape of his stubble, made my heart race wildly. My hands clung to him, finding the solid strength of his shoulders, the warmth of his chest beneath his shirt.
He kissed me again, this time deeper, with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hand slid up my side, skimming over my ribs before settling at the small of my back, anchoring me to him as his lips moved against mine. Every part of me burned, the room around us disappearing into the haze of shared heat and need.
The soft sound of my name on his lips made my chest tighten. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as if that could make the moment last forever. His touch became more insistent, his hands exploring, his lips speaking a language I understood in the way they pressed, tasted, lingered.
The space between us vanished entirely as he closed the distance, his body pressing me back against the solid edge of the desk. His hands, rough and warm, skimmed my waist before gripping it firmly, pulling me flush against him. His lips claimed mine with a hunger I hadn’t felt before—raw and all-consuming.
When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his forehead resting against mine. His fingers traced my jaw, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear as he whispered, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to rip these clothes off of you... to see you, all of you naked”
The words sent a shiver through me, and before I could respond, he took my hand, pulling me toward the bookshelf. My back hit the sturdy wooden frame, the books rattling softly as his body caged mine. His hands moved with purpose now, sliding down my arms before settling on the buttons of my blouse.
His eyes locked on mine as he began to undo them one by one, his breath warm against my cheek. “Every time I see you in this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “I have to fight myself not to do this.”
I couldn’t speak, my voice caught in my throat as his hands moved lower, pushing the fabric off my shoulders. His fingers brushed my bare skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake. My heart pounded, the air between us thick and electric.
“You’re more beautiful than I ever let myself imagine,” he said, his voice soft but strained, his gaze taking me in like I was a masterpiece he’d waited years to touch.
His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer as his lips found mine again, fiercer this time. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips left mine to trail along my neck, down to my collarbone. Each kiss sent a spark racing through me, leaving me breathless and clinging to him.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice raw against my skin. “Tell me I’m not the only one who’s been losing sleep over this.”
“You’re not,” I admitted, my voice trembling but steady with truth. “I’ve wanted this, James. I’ve wanted you.”
His lips found mine again, hungrier now, as his hands roamed over my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. The warmth of him seeped into me, his touch igniting something deep and uncontrollable. He pushed the blouse from my shoulders completely, the fabric fluttering to the floor without a second thought.
His hands slid down to my waist, his fingers teasing the hem of my skirt. “Every time I see you in this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck, “it drives me insane.”
I gasped as he lifted me slightly, turning us so I was pressed back against the bookshelf. The cool wood against my skin was a stark contrast to the heat of his hands, which worked to slide my skirt down my hips, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing the newly exposed skin with a reverence that made my knees weak.
He leaned back, his eyes dark and filled with something primal as he took me in. “Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself.
I reached for him then, my hands trembling but eager as I tugged at his shirt. He didn’t resist, letting me pull it over his head. My fingers traced the lines of his chest, the muscles beneath taut and warm under my touch. He watched me, his breathing uneven, as if my touch alone unraveled him.
When he leaned in again, his hands found the clasp of my bra, pausing just long enough for his gaze to meet mine. “Okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, unable to speak.
James took a deep breath, his eyes dark and filled with a mix of desire and reverence as he pulled back slightly. His hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, the motion deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment. Slowly, he undid the button and the zipper, his gaze never leaving mine.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, as if he was trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.
He slipped his jeans down, revealing the taut muscles of his legs, his body every bit as imposing as it was graceful. I watched him, the heat between us growing stronger, more palpable with each passing second. He stood before me, bare-chested, seeming like a Greek god,  looking  with a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away. He was beautiful in a way I never could have imagined, and now that the layers between us were slowly falling away, it felt like everything was shifting, like we were moving toward something neither of us could stop.
He stepped closer, his hands running over his own chest, and I reached out, my fingers tracing the lines of his abs, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down my spine. Then I moved closer to his boxer, lowering it a bit to make his cock slliping out. 
“I want to make you feel good,” I whispered, my voice soft, but full of intent. I meant it, more than anything else. I took his cock erected and started stroking it gently, yet quick. 
His reaction was immediate. A low moan escaped his lips, the sound soft but filled with desire. I felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound, knowing that I was the one making him feel this way. His body tensed beneath my touch, every muscle drawn tight with need.
The sound of his moan—deep and unrestrained—only made me more determined to keep going, to show him just how much I wanted to give. I moved slowly, my fingers working with precision, matching the rhythm of his breathing. I could feel him reacting to each subtle movement, his body leaning into me as if urging me on.
His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer as he kissed me, his lips urgent, but still gentle. I could taste the desperation in his kiss, the unspoken longing he didn’t have to say aloud. But his moan told me everything I needed to know. It made my chest tighten, a flutter of heat spreading through me at how badly he wanted this, wanted me.
With every stroke, I could feel him getting closer, his body trembling beneath my touch. He leaned into me, pressing his forehead against mine, his hands gripping my hips as if trying to steady himself. His breathing grew more shallow, the moans escaping him louder, more desperate now.
“You feel so good,” he breathed against my lips, his voice rough with need. “So good, Y/n.” His breath was quick and uneven, each word heavier than the last, his eyes dark with desire.
I could feel the way my own body responded to him, the fluttering in my stomach, the warmth spreading between my legs. I wanted to keep making him feel this way—wanted to see him undone by my touch. The moan that escaped his lips only encouraged me to continue, the sound echoing in my mind, and I matched the rhythm he set with my own, feeling a heat surge through me with every movement.
 There was only this moment, only the connection between us—deep, raw, and undeniable. I could feel his heartbeat under my fingertips, steady and frantic all at once. The way he moaned, his breath hitching with every motion, made me feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time.
I leaned into him, kissing him deeply, taking my time with the kiss as I felt the tension in his body grow. Every touch, every breath between us felt like it was drawing us closer, making the world outside disappear.
I kept my pace slow, letting the anticipation build, knowing how much he needed this, how much he needed me to be there with him. I could feel him trembling beneath my touch, the way his body reacted to each gentle stroke.
And then, with a shuddering breath, he moaned again, his entire body jerking slightly as he let go, his chest heaving as he finally released, the tension in him breaking. He collapsed into me, his hands gripping my shoulders for support as he tried to steady his breathing.
“Y/n,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so close...”
I held him close, my hands gently stroking him as I let him come down from the wave of pleasure. His breath was ragged, and I kissed him softly, as he came.
My body was still humming from the intense connection we'd just shared, and James, standing so close to me, his chest rising and falling with each breath, was no different. His hands remained on my body, and his gaze—those deep, smoldering eyes—told me everything I needed to know. 
His lips brushed lightly against mine once more, a kiss that was soft, lingering, and filled with unspoken emotion. His mouth parted against mine, just a breath away. “You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, thick with desire. “You’re so much more than I imagined.”
I smiled at the sincerity in his voice, a warmth spreading through my chest. But even as he spoke, I could feel the tension building in the air again. He was looking at me like he couldn’t wait for the next moment to begin.
And I felt the same.
His fingers traced a slow path down my arm, igniting a trail of fire on my skin as he moved closer, his body aligning with mine. The gentle pressure of his chest against mine sent waves of sensation crashing through me, and I didn’t want to fight it anymore. His touch was electric, sparking something deeper, something raw between us that I couldn't quite name.
“I want to make you feel good,” he murmured, his voice deep and thick, laced with a promise. His lips brushed against my neck as he pulled me closer, his warmth enveloping me completely. The subtle movements of his hands were deliberate, slow—his fingertips grazing over my skin like he was savoring the moment, like he never wanted it to end.
I closed my eyes, giving in to the feeling of him, of his presence filling every space between us. His lips trailed soft, heated kisses along my neck, then dipped lower, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. My pulse raced, every inch of me aching with desire for more.
Without warning, he moved—his hands gripping my waist as he lifted me effortlessly. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, my hands slipping into his hair, feeling the weight of his body against mine as he turned us toward the bookshelf. The cool wood met my back with a soft thud, but I didn’t feel the coldness; I felt only the heat of him, pressing into me, his lips returning to mine in a deep, consuming kiss.
 James held me against the bookshelf. His grip on me was firm, but there was a tenderness in the way he held me, as if he were afraid to break something delicate. But there was nothing delicate about this—nothing about the fire burning between us was fragile. It was raw, powerful, and undeniable.
I gasped softly as his lips found my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “You’ve made me feel amazing, but now I want to make you feel everything.”
His hands trailed down my body, gently pushing me back against the bookshelf as he moved in closer, his body fitting perfectly against mine. The pressure of him, the heat radiating from his skin—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. 
You’re perfect,” he whispered, the words rough with emotion, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening.
I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of his voice, the way he said my name like a prayer. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I responded instinctively, my body moving closer to his. I could feel his cock rubbing in my clit.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, his tongue brushing against mine with a slow, intoxicating rhythm. I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped from me, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.
He deepened the kiss, sending shivers through my spine, and I felt a spark of heat ignite within me. His kiss was fire, melting away every ounce of hesitation, leaving only raw need and yearning. I couldn’t remember a time when I felt so alive, so completely attuned to another person.
He broke the kiss, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “Are you sure, Y/n?” His voice was a whisper, but there was a hardness to it now, a hint of desperation. “I don’t want to push you… but I need you.”
I swallowed, my heart racing in my chest. I wasn’t sure if I could find the words, but I didn’t need to. My body was speaking for me, my hands reaching down to pull him closer, feeling the heat of his skin, the hardness of his body against mine. Every inch of me wanted him, craved him, and I could no longer pretend otherwise.
“I’m sure,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything we were about to share. “I want this. I want you.”
His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, and without another word, he lifted me effortlessly, his hands gripping my waist as he pressed me more firmly against the bookshelf. The sudden movement took me by surprise, but the moment our bodies aligned, a shudder of anticipation ran through me. I gasped as his lips found my ear, his breath sending a wave of heat through me.
“Now it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he whispered against my skin, his voice husky with desire. “Let me show you just how much I’ve wanted this, how much I wanted to fuck you all of you”
The intensity in his voice made me weak in the knees. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wood of the bookshelf, and let him guide me, his hands firm but gentle as he positioned me just right. He was so close now that I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips trailing hot kisses down my skin.
I felt the pulse of heat between us grow, every second making my body ache with need. He pressed into me slowly, deeply, and I gasped at the sensation, the feeling of him filling me in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect. I didn’t know if I could take it, but I didn’t care. Every inch of me was alive with need, and I moaned softly, feeling him shift his position just slightly to allow for a deeper connection.
“James…” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. The sound of his name on my lips felt like a confession, like a promise of everything that was happening between us.
His name escaped him in a low groan, his hands gripping my hips as he started to move against me, the rhythm slow and deliberate. He was teasing me, pushing me to the edge, and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted, how my breath hitched, how my nails dug into his shoulders.
“You feel so good, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure as he kissed the sensitive skin on my neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”
The pressure between us was building, and every move he made seemed to bring us closer to the edge. His hands moved to my chest, caressing my breasts with a tenderness that made me shiver. He pinched my nipple softly, and I moaned, arching into him, wanting more.
He kissed me again, his lips hungry, desperate. I felt the way he kissed me, not just with passion, but with a deep, aching need, as though he couldn’t get enough of me, couldn’t stop himself. I let myself melt into him, responding to each touch, each kiss, each movement as if my body had a mind of its own.
His rhythm grew more urgent, and with each thrust, I felt myself getting closer to the edge, the tension in my body so tight I thought I might snap. My moans grew louder, more desperate, matching the frantic pace he set, until finally, with one deep, almost desperate thrust, I felt myself breaking apart, my body trembling as I found release.
“J-James, I’m cumming” "I moaned softly, my body trembling from the intensity of his thrusters.
“Cum for me,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his hands holding me closer as the tension between us reached its peak. “Let me know how much you want this.”
His name spilled from my lips again, a breathless cry, and the sound of it seemed to push him over the edge. I felt him tense, his body shuddering against mine as he followed me, his deep groan echoing in my ear. We both froze for a moment, suspended in the aftermath, the air thick with our combined breaths.
We stayed like that, locked in each other's arms, unable to let go of the connection we had created. James pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me, his breath coming in soft pants against my ear. I could hear the steady beat of his heart, and I rested my head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.
As we stood there, our bodies still entwined, the world outside the small office seemed to fade away. The only sounds were our ragged breathing, slowly starting to calm. My chest rose and fell against his, and I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. The air between us was heavy, but now it felt different—more peaceful, more grounded.
James pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, allowing the quiet to settle over us. We didn’t speak for a long time, and I didn’t mind. It felt good to just be in this moment, to be connected to him in a way I hadn’t ever expected.
Finally, James spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. “You okay?” he asked, his hand gently stroking my hair, as though making sure I was still with him, still here.
I nodded, lifting my head to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a mix of desire and something softer, something I hadn’t expected to see. “Yeah… more than okay,” I whispered, smiling up at him, my heart still racing in the aftermath of everything that had just happened. But as the excitement ebbed away, a quiet realization began to settle in.
There was still so much we hadn’t said, so much unspoken. The weight of the situation was slowly sinking in. James was married. That fact hadn’t disappeared in the heat of the moment, and now that things were calm, I felt the tug of uncertainty.
I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “James…” My voice was soft, unsure. “What about your wife? What does this mean?”
He paused, his fingers gently brushing my cheek as he considered his words. His brow furrowed slightly, and for the first time since we’d come together, there was a moment of vulnerability in his expression. He took a breath, clearly weighing the truth before responding.
“Things aren’t... what they seem," he said slowly, his voice quieter than before. "It’s complicated, Y/n. I’m not... I’m not happy in my marriage. I haven’t been for a long time.” He swallowed hard, his eyes not leaving mine as if searching for some sign that I understood. “I never meant for this to happen with you, but I can’t deny what I feel. What we’ve shared... it feels real. More real than anything else right now.”
I felt the weight of his words, a mixture of relief and sadness swelling inside me. My heart ached for him, for the situation he found himself in. I wanted to ask more questions, to understand the full depth of what he was going through, but instead, I found myself in his arms, my face pressed against his chest once again, trying to hold onto the feeling of being close to him.
“So, what does this mean?” I asked, my voice a little shaky, but I needed to know. "What do we do now?"
He exhaled deeply, running his hand through his hair, looking away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. There was something intense in his eyes, something that told me this wasn’t just a fleeting moment for him.
“I don’t know what the future holds, Y/n,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “But I know that right now, I don’t want to let go of this. I don’t want to let go of you.” He looked down at me, his expression full of raw emotion. “If you wanted to stay… I wouldn’t stop you.”
The offer hung in the air between us, and I could feel the weight of it. It wasn’t just about the physical connection we’d shared—it was about something deeper, something more fragile.
“I’m not asking you to leave her,” I said quietly, my heart aching. “But what happens now? What do we do with what we’ve just… what we’ve just done?”
James gently lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. His touch was tender, almost apologetic, as if he were afraid of the emotions he might be stirring. “I don’t want to complicate things for you, Y/n. But I can’t pretend that this doesn’t mean something to me.”
His words lingered in the space between us, and I could feel the shift—the weight of our shared desire, and the vulnerability that came with it. He wasn’t asking me for anything. He wasn’t rushing into anything. But the offer, the possibility, was there, hanging in the quiet.
“I think we need time,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. "We both do."
James nodded slowly, his lips brushing against my forehead in a soft kiss. “Yeah, time,” he echoed, his hand still holding me close. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not if you don’t want me to.”
I closed my eyes, letting the quiet settle between us, and for a moment, there was no pressure, no confusion—just the two of us, holding onto something fleeting, yet real.
“I don’t want you to go either,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but sincere.
And for a moment, we simply stood there, lost in the warmth of each other’s arms, our hearts beating as one, unsure of what tomorrow would bring, but certain of this—this connection, this moment, was something we both wanted to hold on to.
36 notes · View notes
kawacake · 3 hours ago
Text
My Mistake
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Masterlist
Paring: Toji x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Smut (Choking, Mating press, Breeding kink, Cunnilingus, & Back scratching), Reader fucks her bsf dad, I think that’s all if I’m missing some lmk!
A/n: this will be a series !! & if you like this make sure to leave a heart, reblog, & comment to give me feedback.! (& i didn’t proofread this)
The sound of your phone alarm rang for the fifth time in the past hour. You finally picked it up and pushed stop and just laid down on your bed as the sun shined down on your body. After a few minutes of laying down you heard walking near your door before it flew open revealing a little boy “Bro get up what’s the point of the alarm if you just keep hitting snooze.” The little boy said, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes at him.
“I’m up now so can you please get out?” You said to him as he turned around and exited your room leaving the door opened which slightly irritated you but you said nothing to him. Now getting up you slid on the bedroom slippers you had near your bed and made your way to the kitchen where you heard the rest of your family.
“You look a mess.” Your brother joked before turning his attention back to his iPad “No shit I just woke up, did you expect me to wake up like a Disney princess or something?” You said before your mom hushed you because she was on the phone as your brother stuck a tongue out at you.
Pressing your lips into a thin line at your brother's childish behavior you then turned around to make your way to the bathroom to get ready since you had class in a few.
Entering the bathroom you grabbed a washcloth and towel off one of the shelves placing the towel on the rack near the shower and the washcloth on the rail inside the shower. 
Before you could strip off your clothes you got a text on your phone.
Gumi😾
Y/n you up?
Y/n
No I’m just practicing for my funeral yk?
Gumi😾
Stsu anyways you driving to school or you wanna carpool?
Nobara
Bro didn’t even care to ask us🌚
Yujii 
Who is “us”? He asked me yesterday night💀
Nobara
Ykw bye
Y/n
Lmaooo but yeah igtg finna get ready
You said before closing your phone, setting it on the sink before stripping and stepping into the shower. As the shower water hit you, your body seemed to loosen up and all your worries went away.
-
After the shower you wrapped the towel around you and threw your night clothes from the night before into the laundry basket. Picking up your toothbrush you applied toothpaste and began brushing your teeth, once you were done you picked up your phone and made your way back to your room. 
You got a pair of bootcut jeans and a plain black shirt with some Air Forces. Basic? You know it’s basic but why go all out if you literally only have 3 classes. Anyways you sit at your vanity to fix your hair and do some light makeup. It shouldn't take long but knowing you, you like to take your time.
Once you were finished you grabbed your bag and walked into the kitchen where your mom and brother were still sitting. “I’m not driving my car, Gumi is coming to get me.” You told your mom while grabbing some grapes from the fridge as your mom nodded at you while still busy on the phone. “Come on Aran.” Your mom said to your brother while grabbing her purse making her way outside with your brother following behind.
Gumi😾
Come outside ho
Y/n
Coming
Closing your phone you grabbed some of the grapes and put the rest back in the fridge and made your way outside, you could see megumi with a slight smile on his face and nobara and itadori in the backseat as you got into the passenger side. You met Megumi senior year of high school and instantly became close. Then he introduced you to his group and the four of you became inseparable. 
“Y/n you literally finished decorating your dorm why haven’t you moved in.” Nobara asked “I get home sick but once I bring the rest of my clothes in and my vanity is when I’ll move in.” “My dad can do it.” Megumi butted in “can you ask h-.” “FUCK NO DO IT YOURSELF.” Megumi said causing you to let out a sigh 
“I hope your dorm mate is Mahito.” You said as Itadori and Megumi both went quiet “Don’t wish that on us.” Itadori said as Megumi pulled up to the college campus. “I got English composition first.” You said as nobara perked up as she said ‘same’, you both were majoring in criminology so you had most classes together which was a plus cause you knew at least someone and didn’t have to meet new people. 
You and nobara made your way inside the first building and megumi and itadori went to the third building because they had psychology 101 first. Once the two of you entered the class you realized how full it was and the last few open seats were separated from each other “I’ll miss you y/n bae!” Nobara said walking away from you and made her way to a seat near the front and you made your way to the back.
A voice from the front began to speak, getting everyone’s attention. “Good morning my name is Professor Choso. I teach English composition and I hope we have a great semester.” Professor Choso had said as every girl seemed starstruck by him.
About 38 minutes into the class you got a message from an unknown number.
Unknown number
Hey this y/n? Megumi told me you needed help putting some things in your dorm.
You thanked God for Megumi. He's such a life saver.
Y/n
Yeah this is her. Do you think you could help me today? I only have one class till around 2 so maybe around 11 if you’re free
Unknown number
Yeah just send me your house address and I’ll pick it up and meet you at your dorm.
Y/n
Alright I just need my vanity and it’s two boxes beside the vanity with my clothes 
Y/n
Thank you so much! How much do I have to pay you? 
Unknown number
Nothing you’re my son’s friend so you don’t have to pay😉
Y/n hearted the message
-
Once class was over you walked to your dorm that you’ve only been to twice and waited for Toji. It shouldn’t take that long since you were a tad bit earlier than you told him to be here. With that you stood up and decided to unpack the last box that had your shower things in it such as the mats, and the pink toilet cover you found on Amazon that looked so cute.
Lucky for you your college offered single room dorms, obviously it costed you a lot more money but it was so worth it. Now grabbing the box you made your way to the small bathroom sitting the box down and opening it. Pulling out the pink toilet cover you walked to the toilet and slid the cover over the toilet.
After doing that you pulled out three mats, putting the shower mat in front of the walk in shower then walked over to the toilet crouching down to put the toilet mat down now lastly you put the sink mat down. You had already put up your skin care products and more into the cabinets, you did that the first time you came to the dorm and the second time you decorated the room with silly little posters and vinyl’s that you had bought while shopping for dorm supplies.
Making your way back to your bed right before you sat down you heard a knock on the door, letting out a sigh you walked towards the door to open it. As the door opened it revealed toji he was a lot taller than you expected and he was more handsome than you expected to you can see where gumi got his looks from.
He had the vanity sat behind him while he looked down at you, it was like he was inspecting you or something. “Sorry come in.” You said opening the door enough that he could fit himself and the vanity.
You instructed him on where to put the vanity as he listened and soon went out to get the boxes with your clothing in it. Not too long after he brung in the two boxes leaving them near the small closet you have.
“Thank you so much!” “It’s no problem I wasn’t busy anyways.” He said as you gave him a friendly smile. “I ordered food I thought it was only right for me to give you something in return.” You say as his eyes went wide for a second “You really didn’t have to but thank you.” He added before taking a seat on your bed.
-
After you and Toji talked for a few minutes, the food had finally arrived and now the two of you were talking while eating. “Megumi was a handful during high school!” Toji laughed as you sat in front of him listening to stories about megumi. “For real, like one time some dude was talking shit and next thing i know megumi is throwing punches.” He let out a chuckle while you smiled at him.
“Yeah but after my wife passed he stopped being so joyful all the time.” Toji stated as you started to feel bad. “I’m sorry for your loss..” you say looking down at your lap “Don’t get all sappy on me now.” Using his fingers to lift your head up so you’re looking at him again before he moves some of your hair out of your face.
The room had gotten quiet but the tension had gotten stronger as he scanned your features. Not a second later he pressed his lips against yours, your eyes went wide for a second but soon closed as the kiss had gotten intense. His hands roamed your body before you quickly moved away. “I’m sorry but no I can’t.” “No, I'm sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” He said standing up from his bed running his fingers through his hair. 
As he started walking to your door to take his leave “Thank you so much for bringing me my stuff.” You said opening the door as he stepped out deep down you wish you didn’t stop him “Yeah no problem” he said clearing his throat while towering over you. The tension still lingered in the air as you tried to contain yourself but Toji couldn’t help it, he let out a sigh before his lips met yours again.
He stumbled back inside, closing the door behind him. The two of you stumbled over to your bed as he sat you on his lap. Moaning into the kiss and the two of you grind down on each other before you paused. “It’s my first time.” You said as he let out a low “fuck” before he looked you in your eyes “I’ll be gentle i promise.” He said holding out his pinky for you as you smiled and locked your pinky with his.
Now he flipped you over so you were now laying on your back, he started unbuckling your pants, slipping them down your legs as you took off your shirt leaving you in nothing but your panties and bra. Toji then took off his own shirt and pants leaving him in only his boxers, he then made his way between your legs leaving small kisses on your thighs before stopping at your panties.
He felt you tense up when he moved his fingers against your clothed cunt “Calm down.” He said looking up at you as you nodded your head at him.
His fingers now reaching under the thin material started to rub circles against your clit causing you to moan, with a grin on his face he slipped a finger inside with that you gasped using your hand to cover your mouth. “Keep moaning for me, pretty girl.” He said, thrusting his fingers faster, soon adding a second finger as the room was filled with moans. 
Replacing his finger with his tongue, he groaned tasting your juices on his tongue as he slowly grinded into your mattress. The vibrations from his groans sent you over the edge as you felt yourself about to cum. “Can I?” You asked, gripping his hair and he nodded yes. 
He licked you clean as you whimpered under him “Don’t fall asleep on me yet.” Toji spoke, sliding off his boxers along with your panties, usually he’d slid them in his pocket but they were purple and he hated purple. 
“Will it fit?” You asked as he smiled, taking it as a compliment “I’ll make it fit my love.” He said pressing the tip near your entrance while leaving small kisses on your skin to calm your nerves. Now slowly pushing in he let out a low grunt from how tight you were around him.
He paused letting you adjust to him before you nodded your head to let him know to move. Grabbing your waist gently and slowly thrusting into you as the room started to fill up with groaning and moaning you prayed nobody would hear you. 
You didn’t even know tears started to fall till you felt toji’s hand swiped away the tears while leaving little pecks on your lips while still thrusting. “Faster please.” You begged, you felt so pathetic but the feeling felt so good. Toji listened and picked up the pace as your moans had gotten louder.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said but you couldn’t even respond but what you did do was grab his hand, placing it around your neck. He looked down at you slightly worried “You sure?” He questioned as you nodded your head and he gripped your neck but not enough to hurt you. 
The feeling of the lack of oxygen and him pounding into you made you feel euphoric. Gripping his back as he hit your g-spot as he let out a loud groan before pulling all the way out causing you to sulk a little. Without saying a word he flipped you over so you were on your hands and knees entering you again.
Gripping your hair as he fucked into you harder than before, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. “You’re so tight ima fuck a baby in you.” He said through thrusts as you shook your head no as he laughed. Your back arched as he pounded into you harshly as you screamed into the pillow you were like a doll under him “I'm gonna cum please Toji.” You said clenching around him, his thrust seemed to get harsher by the second.
“Cum for me my love.” He said wrapping his hands around your throat, soon you had come undone as your body went limp but Toji kept thrusting and your headboard hit against the wall before he came inside of you.
“Can you go one more time baby?” He asked as you hesitantly nodded your head yes before he placed a kiss on your lips before putting you in a mating press position before sinking into your hole again.
Your mouth hung open and loud moans came out from him picking up the pace “Look at you baby.” He said before he groaned from you clenching around him. His tip hits your g-spot causing your eyes to roll back and you start clawing at Toji’s back while he watches you crumble underneath him.
His hips buckled into you relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over again as your moans got louder every time his hips snapped against yours, sending you spiraling dangerously close to your edge. Your grip on his back falters, hands slipping as tears stream down your flushed cheeks. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling beneath you, completely mind-fucked and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes every inch of your body.
“You’re doing—fuckkk—so good for me baby.” He says as you feel the familiar feeling in your stomach again, “Toji I’m cumming.” You feel your legs starting to shake “Fuck!” You cried out, your cum dripping down his dick. 
His thrust started to get sloppier but he then paused letting out a loud moan as he filled you up for the second time. He slid out of you as you let out a gasp at the loss of Toji being inside you.
He pulled you into his arms as resting your head on his chest. “One time thing only.” You said, wrapping your arms around him as he let out a low chuckle before speaking. “Whatever you say.” That was the last thing you heard from him before you fell asleep. 
-
Slowly starting to wake up you reached for your phone to see what time it was once you reached your phone you looked at the time seeing it was already 5pm. “Fuck.” You mumbled under your breath realizing you missed your second class, Megumi, Itadori, and Nobara were nine times out of ten pissed at you. That was the only class the three of you had together.
Trying to sit up you felt as if your whole body was sore and that’s when everything hit you and you started to panic picking up the plan b pill and popping it into your mouth then stood up as everything that just hit you sunk in.
“I fucked up.” You said hurrying to get up as you grabbed some random night clothes with a towel and a washcloth and rushed to turn on the shower and get in.
Once you are done with your shower you moisturize your skin and put on your pajamas. Making your way back to your bed you paused when you heard a knock at your dorm door as you walked over to it, opening it revealing your three friends.
“You’re an asshole.” Itadori said entering the room before nobara spoke up “On yall life you are, you just skipped and didn’t tell anyone.” She said walking over to your bed to sit on as Megumi followed behind not saying a word. “Motherfucker who was in here…?” Nobara asked, looking down at your bed “What do you mean?” “You sleep on the left side of the bed, why is the whole bed messed up? WHO DID YOU HAVE IN HERE!?” Itadori then shouted as the three then came to a realization.
“You were fucking?” Megumi said, looking at you with a straight face, “Yeah but I fell asleep right after.” You COMPLETELY fucked up when you said yes.
“With who?” “Was it someone here or a different college?” “How long have y'all been talking?” “Was he older?” “Or maybe younger!” The three said, causing you to roll your eyes, “I prefer to keep that information to myself.”.
“Yeah yeah but everything for today’s class is on the laptop and Yuji sent you the notes.” Megumi announced “Let’s go get some food!” Nobara said “Yeah then can you drop me off at my house so I can get my car.” You said realizing that megumi drove you to campus “Yeah.” Megumi spoke walking to the door as you slid your shoes on and followed the three out of the dormitory.
Looking at Megumi you felt like absolute SHIT.
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lilianhuas · 11 days ago
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HongShen: “Who’s the one in the hat? *proceeds to bite his biscuit/cracker*
HongQi: “Actor Li Miaohan”
HongShen: “Hm, pretty good.”
HongQi, indignantly breaks off the piece of biscuit/cracker HongShen just ate. “Do you have any taste? Ain’t nothing like our Mi Lan.”
HongShen: “Ew, so disgusting.”
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reasonsforhope · 3 months ago
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Article | Paywall Free
"The Food and Drug Administration approved new mRNA coronavirus vaccines Thursday [August 22, 2024], clearing the way for shots manufactured by Pfizer-BioNTech and Moderna to start hitting pharmacy shelves and doctor’s offices within a week.
Health officials encourage annual vaccination against the coronavirus, similar to yearly flu shots. Everyone 6 months and older should receive a new vaccine, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends.
The FDA has yet to approve an updated vaccine from Novavax, which uses a more conventional vaccine development method but has faced financial challenges.
Our scientific understanding of coronavirus vaccines has evolved since they debuted in late 2020. Here’s what to know about the new vaccines.
Why are there new vaccines?
The coronavirus keeps evolving to overcome our immune defenses, and the shield offered by vaccines weakens over time. That’s why federal health officials want people to get an annual updated coronavirus vaccine designed to target the latest variants. They approve them for release in late summer or early fall to coincide with flu shots that Americans are already used to getting.
The underlying vaccine technology and manufacturing process are the same, but components change to account for how the virus morphs. The new vaccines target the KP.2 variant because most recent covid cases are caused by that strain or closely related ones...
Do the vaccines prevent infection?
You probably know by now that vaccinated people can still get covid. But the shots do offer some protection against infection, just not the kind of protection you get from highly effective vaccines for other diseases such as measles.
The 2023-2024 vaccine provided 54 percent increased protection against symptomatic covid infections, according to a CDC study of people who tested for the coronavirus at pharmacies during the first four months after that year’s shot was released...
A nasal vaccine could be better at stopping infections outright by increasing immunity where they take hold, and one is being studied in a trial sponsored by the National Institutes of Health.
If you really want to dodge covid, don’t rely on the vaccine alone and take other precautions such as masking or avoiding crowds...
Do the vaccines help prevent transmission?
You may remember from early coverage of coronavirus vaccines that it was unclear whether shots would reduce transmission. Now, scientists say the answer is yes — even if you’re actively shedding virus.
That’s because the vaccine creates antibodies that reduce the amount of virus entering your cells, limiting how much the virus can replicate and make you even sicker. When vaccination prevents symptoms such as coughing and sneezing, people expel fewer respiratory droplets carrying the virus. When it reduces the viral load in an infected person, people become less contagious.
That’s why Peter Hotez, a physician and co-director of the Texas Children’s Hospital Center for Vaccine Development, said he feels more comfortable in a crowded medical conference, where attendees are probably up to date on their vaccines, than in a crowded airport.
“By having so many vaccinated people, it’s decreasing the number of days you are shedding virus if you get a breakthrough infection, and it decreases the amount of virus you are shedding,” Hotez said.
Do vaccines prevent long covid?
While the threat of acute serious respiratory covid disease has faded, developing the lingering symptoms of “long covid” remains a concern for people who have had even mild cases. The CDC says vaccination is the “best available tool” to reduce the risk of long covid in children and adults. The exact mechanism is unclear, but experts theorize that vaccines help by reducing the severity of illness, which is a major risk factor for long covid.
When is the best time to get a new coronavirus vaccine?
It depends on your circumstances, including risk factors for severe disease, when you were last infected or vaccinated, and plans for the months ahead. It’s best to talk these issues through with a doctor.
If you are at high risk and have not recently been vaccinated or infected, you may want to get a shot as soon as possible while cases remain high. The summer wave has shown signs of peaking, but cases can still be elevated and take weeks to return to low levels. It’s hard to predict when a winter wave will begin....
Where do I find vaccines?
CVS said its expects to start administering them within days, and Walgreens said that it would start scheduling appointments to receive shots after Sept. 6 and that customers can walk in before then.
Availability at doctor’s offices might take longer. Finding shots for infants and toddlers could be more difficult because many pharmacies do not administer them and not every pediatrician’s office will stock them given low demand and limited storage space.
This year’s updated coronavirus vaccines are supposed to have a longer shelf life, which eases the financial pressures of stocking them.
The CDC plans to relaunch its vaccine locator when the new vaccines are widely available, and similar services are offered by Moderna and Pfizer."
-via The Washington Post, August 22, 2024
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sleepymarimo · 4 months ago
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toji x reader // sfw!
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.
“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.
you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.
in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.
“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”
the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.
“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”
with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”
he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.
his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.
he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.
with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.
the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.
inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.
it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.
toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.
while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.
even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.
“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.
and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.
it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.
so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.
his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.
were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?
“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”
the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.
when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.
the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.
in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.
he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.
“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.
you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”
yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.
a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.
he curls into you. you don’t mind.
while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.
his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.
it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.
he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.
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sillygirlyindelulu · 1 year ago
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i haven't touched a book in two weeks, and it is as if there is a void in my being, an absence, a longing that I cannot quite place but I know it is there. It is alsmot like missing someone, deeply and achingly. it hurts the soul.
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tojisun · 2 months ago
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simon and his sweet darling filming porn together for his friends.
he starts posting little clips, ones that are only about three seconds long. there’s never a shot of your face nor the actual penetration, and it is meant to only tease, and damn if it doesn’t do a good job at that.
the first time he’s posted, he receives a frantic message from kyle, telling him that, “sir. your private video’s been leaked.”
and it’s so utterly sweet that simon’s only reply is to send to kyle the whole, unedited version of him fucking you raw—it’s actually such a messy session, with lube and spunk coating your thighs and oozing out of your cunt, making a thick glob that in the next second, simon got down to his knees to lick your pussy clean.
he knows garrick will go crazy for that. kid’s a desperate oral giver, simon knows.
(funnily enough, neither his captain nor mactavish raised the same concern and simon knows exactly just why—hell, they were the first notifications he got from that video.)
the other people who started following him for his homemade clips were just a bonus and a confidence boost. you and simon would spend hours going over the comments, giggling to each other at the palpable thirst for either or both of you rolling off of every posted note, while also shelving ideas that were being thrown at them.
simon’s favourite was the pet play. yours was the roleplay where you were a failing student and simon was your ridiculous professor whose only proposal to your issue was to allow him to fuck you.
the videos get longer, of course, but the anonymity remains. somehow, that becomes the biggest charm—just a scarred and tank of a man fucking his girl, folding her every way he can even when she protests that she’s too heavy for him.
you never are, and simon fucks that into you every single chance.
it takes about a month of regular posting when, finally, his mates cracked.
johnny’s started a group chat, and all his message reads is, “please. wanna see bon’s face when she’s cumming.”
simon turns to you, his eyebrows raised. “your call, love.”
you roll your eyes at him like you don’t know how much he’s been waiting for this. then, you trill, “go on. tell them.”
simon grunts like he isn’t blushing himself, desire heavy in his eyes, before finally sending his reply. it’s an encrypted attachment because he’s still going to put your safety above all else, but also because it is another game. another taunt. another means of teasing his mates.
but when they break through, oh how thankful they will be.
(there are hours of videos saved in the file, many of them sorted out by date and by name. it was a surprise, after all. a pleasant gift. and when they watch it, when they finally get a glimpse of you—and you are the best thing that simon ever had—they’ll forget how it was to cum without seeing you.
without watching the way you mewl and tremble underneath simon’s touch.
…without hearing the rasp of your voice calling out their names.)
five minutes pass by when a new message comes in. it’s from john.
> Christ above.
simon laughs.
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gloomy-kitty · 3 months ago
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𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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minors don’t interact!!!!! 18+ only mature content under tab
synopsis : sol was obsessed with you the moment he laid eyes on you. you were his soulmate. he’d make sure no one else would touch you. he is the only one who can satisfy you. don’t you know that?
warnings : yandere, masturbation, obsessive behavior, stalking, somnophilia, cnc, dubcon, predatory behavior, smut, long word count, drugging, grinding, penetration, very rough sex, whiny submissive Sol at one point, and dominant Sol at another point.
author’s note : if you just want to read smut skip to sections with the 🍋 icon
long word count (11.7k+ words) i mean this might as well be split into different chapters but i don’t want to do that, also i decided to change him referring to you as pumpkin to something else sorry. gave him a tongue piercing because it sounded fun >:3 also i hate tumblr formatting so read on ao3 if you want . (gloomy_kitty)
also not 100% lore accurate
thanksss to my friend who proofread this for me!!
Sol was obsessed with you and had been since you first arrived at the school. The moment his scarlet eyes landed on you something strange was awakened within him. It felt like love at first sight—no it was love at first sight. Did you remember your first encounter? No, it was so long ago you probably hadn’t. He did though, he remembered how he felt so vividly. His heart pounded in his chest, butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and his breath hitched making it difficult to breath the moment he had seen you. That cute library assistant that worked on campus. He remembered how he had walked up to you at the counter, asking for a book for class. How you went out of your way to help him find it, not complaining a single time.
“You absolutely need this book for your class right?” You asked him, sighing in defeat after nearly an hour of searching the library.
“Yes, but if you can’t find it don’t w-“ Sol began, a bit irritated that this was required for his passing grade. But he’d just ordered it online and prayed it arrived on time before finals.
“No. I know we have it. Don’t worry I’ll find it. Just give me another day. Here write down your info and I’ll give you a call once I do.” You said determinedly, sliding a sticky note and pen towards him. “O..okay.” He mumbled and wrote down his information. He fully expected you to not ever find the book or just forget to call him to let him know of your findings. But the very next morning he received a call from an unknown number. “Hello?” He answered.
“Hi this ______ from the school’s library. I found the book you were looking for. It’s reserved at the front desk. If I’m not here just let whoever is at the counter know your name.” You said, he could tell that you were quite happy.
Sol’s eyes widened in shock, you really found it. He responded back with a simple thanks and during a free period he went to the library. There he saw you shelving away books, a content expression on your face. Awkwardly he walked up to you clearing his throat, when he realized you had an earbud in. You jumped in surprise, dropping the book you were holding. Then, at the same time you and Sol reached down to grab the book. Your hand on top of his for a brief second before you pulled away. It felt like a bolt of electricity shot through him. “Whoops! Oh hey you’re the guy from yesterday!” You laughed quietly as he handed you back the book. With that you checked him out reminding him that late fees would occur if he didn’t bring it back on time. You explained how you stayed over an hour after your shift to find what he was needing, then it turned out it was in the completely wrong genre! A historical book tucked away with comics, how egregious!
When Sol asked why you did that you shrugged, simply saying, “I don't want anyone to fail their first semester because I was too lazy to find a book for them. It’s my job after all.” You flashed him a smile. As you handed it over your fingers brushed over him for another brief moment. That same electric feeling coursed through his body. It was that moment something had awakened inside Sol. He was obsessed now.
That memory played in his head for over a year, he had found out your first name. One day when sitting in the library “studying” he overheard you telling a blonde girl about how excited you were for your art class in the fall then you explained what period it would be. Since there was only one introduction to art class that fall semester for the period before lunch, he was going to enroll in art class regardless so might as well make sure he was in yours. Everything had been planned out. Sol didn’t leave any detail forgotten.
He got to class early, sitting in the back of the classroom. He placed his backpack on the chair next to him and anyone he tried to sit next to he glared at, causing them to scurry away. Now he just needed to wait for you to arrive, you’d have to take the only available seat open next to him in a full class.
Like he planned There were no more seats left in class, you had arrived a bit late, only barely beating the bell. He watched as your eyes darted around the classroom looking for somewhere to sit, then a relief look washed over your cute face when you spotted the open seat next to him. Quickly you made your way over pulling out the chair, “Is this taken?” You asked him, already beginning to slip off your backpack.
“N..no.” Sol replied avoiding your gaze, he was focused on his sketchbook, his pencil tapping against the book as he tried to control his breathing. “Oh thank god.” You sighed in relief, finally taking your seat. Rummaging through your backpack you pulled out all the essentials you’d need for art class. It worked. His plan went perfectly!
Sol found it difficult to concentrate on the professor’s words as he discussed basic art fundamentals, he just kept glancing over at you. Your perfume smelled so intoxicating, it drove him wild. The way you studiously jotted down notes was so adorable. Then class ended much to the man’s horror, he hadn’t written down a single thing but most importantly you gathered your things to leave without saying a word to him. He lingered in the classroom a bit, slowly shoving his sketchbook back into his backpack.
A couple days passed before he could see you again, and the whole time he found it difficult to think about anything else other than you. Sol was a bit angry at himself for not even speaking to you, that was his chance to reintroduce himself. He would talk to you next time, he promised himself.
The next class came and you were once again in the same predicament as last time. Arrived to class right before the bell went off and the only seat opened was next to the same guy as before. Not that you minded, he seemed nice enough. “Hey.” You greeted him quietly as you sat down before taking a seat. “Hi.” He returned your greeting quietly. He once again didn’t speak to you and that cycle went on for some time, before finally he had an excuse for the two of you to speak. He wasn’t sure why he kept shying away from you. Shit, he could barely even concentrate in class.
Then the next class came. “Everyone, please pair up with the person beside you, I want you and your partner to discuss today’s chapter.” The professor mumbled as he took a seat back down at his desk, immediately kicking his feet onto the desk and tapping away on his phone.
Turning around with a sigh you looked at your partner with a smile, “Hi. Thanks for always saving me a seat. I’m ______.” You introduced yourself, then gave the dark haired man an encouraging nod to speak. I know what your name is. He thought. Sol rubbed the back of his neck, nervously avoiding your eyes, his gaze fixated to the side. “Yeah it’s no problem. I’m..Sol.” He introduced himself back, hoping that maybe you remembered him.
“Nice to meet you, Sol.” You chimed in reply, holding your hand out. He looked at your hand, then back at you before he shook your hand back. “Yeah, same.” He said, a small smile making its way to his pierced lips. The moment your hands touched, he felt his heart do a leap, and without meaning to he held onto your hand for a bit longer than usual. Though upon realizing that, he quickly pulled his hand away. Either you didn’t mind or just didn’t notice it, as you immediately turned your attention back to the textbook. So you didn’t remember him, that was okay it’s not like he ever went out of his way to speak to you at the library.
“So, this chapter…” you began as you pushed the textbook to the center of the table so you both could share. Sol didn’t speak too much, he was more interested in what you had to say, he nodded attentively and hummed in acknowledgment when he agreed with something you said. The professor didn’t seem too interested in teaching class, so the reminder was spent just conversing. You giggled as Sol said something as you playfully slapped his arm, “What, no way? You did not!” You quietly exclaimed as Sol told you a story. He nodded, “Yeah I really did. It’s embarrassing but it’s the truth.” He laughed softly. Every single fucking thing was so adorable about you; your name, laugh, appearance, personality, every single thing was so adorable. Then just as Sol was about to open his mouth to speak again, the bell rang.
Jumping up in your seat, you pushed the chair back, quickly gathering your belongings. “I gotta go, Sol. But you’ll save me a seat again right? I really enjoyed talking to you.” You asked, looking at him with the cutest expression. “Yeah of course.” He reassured you. “Thanks, you’re the best!” You said and with that, you rushed out of the classroom.
As Sol finished gathering his own belongings, he noticed something sitting on your chair. Your jacket was left behind. He grabbed it and quickly walked out of the classroom to see if he could catch up to you, but of course you were nowhere to be seen. ‘I’ll hold onto it. Give it to her next class.’ He thought to himself.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Woah, that's a cute jacket! You seeing a cute girl?” Hyugo asked his friend. The pair sat at their usual spot on the rooftop eating their lunches. Sol rolled his eyes, “No. The girl who sits next to me in art left it, I’m going to give it to her next class. I just didn’t want it to get lost.” He explained as he continued to eat. He could bring it to you at the library where you worked part time but no, he just wanted to hold onto a bit longer. It was a cute jacket, he couldn’t lie - it was black with striped sleeves and an adorable black cat patch was ironed onto the front. It suited you perfectly.
“Aren’t you so sweet?” Hyugo teased, causing his friend’s face to heat up. Sol grumbled under his breath as he just ignored the comment and continued to eat, only causing the other to laugh. As the bell rang, signaling that their final class of the day would begin and marking the end of their lunch break, the pair stood up. Sol gathered the bento boxes, placing them in his backpack.
“Are you doing anything after class?” Hyugo asked before they parted ways. Sol wasn’t, but he needed to spend some time alone, there was an issue he needed to take care of. “Yeah.” He simply responded. “Aw okay, I’ll just go to the arcade by myself then.” He shrugged before walking off.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
It was dark already when Sol arrived back to his small studio apartment, the short winter days meant it would always be night when he got home. The dark haired man sat his bag on a chair, taking out the bentos to wash. He remembered your jacket was still in his hands, so carefully he placed it on the top of the couch. And so he did his usual evening routine; cleaning dishes, cooking dinner and lunch. The television was playing a show he really had no interest in watching, but it was good background noise.
But he just couldn’t stop thinking about you, eyes flicking to the jacket on the sofa as he prepared his and Hyugo’s lunches. Sol felt the crotch of his pants tighten uncomfortably against him, he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as his heart rate accelerated. But he remained focused just hurrying to finish dinner as soon as possible so he could shower and lay in bed. Tomorrow was early classes after all.
Finally after some time Sol had showered and flopped onto his bed, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes as he tried to focus on anything other than you. But his boxers were so incredibly tight, his erection wouldn’t go away no matter what he tried to do. It felt wrong to touch himself to you, so resisting the urge Sol finally fell asleep. Tonight at least he was able to resist the urge.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ 🍋
The next day of classes came and nothing extraordinary happened. Sol couldn’t spot you anywhere, he supposed he would have to wait until tomorrow to see you and return the jacket. His evening routine was more or less the same, but as he laid in bed tonight, the urges were getting harder and harder to resist.
Sol tried to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else other than the raging erection in his pants right now. His gaze kept flickering to your jacket, he was reminded of how amazing you smelled. He just wanted to smell the perfume again, there was no harm in that…right? Quickly getting out of bed, he snatched your jacket from the couch, immediately pressing it to his nose. Oh god, you smelled so fucking good. He was intoxicated by the scent, his eyes rolling back as he took in your smell, and without even realizing what was happening, his hands trailed down his torso until they slipped under the waistband of his boxers. His long slender fingers immediately wrapped themselves around his erection.
Sol began to pump his cock, a whimper leaving him as his thumb grazed over his tip. Precum was already pooling at the slit, his face still buried in your cute jacket. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have his face buried in your hair, neck…your pussy. He fantasized how amazing you would taste as his face was between your thighs, he’d make you feel so good. He had wanted you for so long now.
“_____…._______….” Sol whimpered your name, scarlet eyes fluttering shut as his pace quickened. At this point he was panting heavily, a complete mess and if your mere scent was doing this to him, he couldn’t imagine how he’d act during the actual act. His cock twitched in his hand and legs trembled; he collapsed onto his knees. He was now thrusting himself eagerly into the palm of his hands, precum lubricating his cock. Sol’s moans echoed throughout the apartment and he felt the warm sensation building up in his core, then with one final thrust he came loudly. “Oh fuck ______!” He cried out, his cum making an absolute mess of his boxers.
Riding out his orgasm he finally came to a stop and dropped the jacket onto the floor. His chest moving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, the whole of his body was a hue of red and warm to the touch. Dark hair sticking to his face from the beads of sweat that had formed. He made sure to toss your jacket onto the couch before he removed his hand from his boxers. A wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over him when he saw sticky cum coating his hand. I shouldn’t have done that. It felt so good though. He thought with a sigh as he stood to his feet. I should go wash up.
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Class was the next day, and that meant Sol could finally see you, he could return your jacket. He waited until after class, when you both were in the hallway. A part of him debated on not giving it back, he wanted it forever, to always have you with him, but he decided against it and it was worth it. The look on your face when he had handed you your jacket back was worth it. “Oh my gosh, Sol. I was so worried I had lost my favorite jacket forever. Thank you so much!” You exclaimed as you hugged him briefly, before you slipped it back on. “Yeah..of course. I tried looking for you yesterday to return it but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” He explained. A tinge of red evident on his pale features as he was reminded of what he did the night before with it. He violated your poor jacket, but of course he would never tell you that.
You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively, “Sorry about that! I was in such a rush to leave. My other job needed me to cover a shift.” You explained. You had another job besides the library?
But he didn’t mind; he was just glad he could keep your jacket safe from anyone else. Fumbling in the pocket of your pants you pulled out your cell phone, “We should exchange numbers! Just in case one of us needs to get into contact with each other.” You suggested, swiping your finger across to unlock the device. He watched as you typed away on the screen before handing it to him.
Sol’s heart was beating so quickly now, you were really asking for his number? He looked a bit uncomfortable, like he was rejecting your offer, because you began to pull away your phone looking at the floor embarrassedly. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t ha-“ you began but he cut you off, gently snatching the phone from your hand. And within seconds he typed in his number, he already noticed you made a contact name for him. Sol ☀️
But something else caught his attention as he felt the phone vibrate in his hand.
Crowe 🐦‍⬛ : You’re still coming over tonight, right?
Something inside of the dark haired man awakened when he saw that text. He froze in place, his blush that tinted his features now went away. Who the hell is Crowe? He thought bitterly. Your boyfriend or a coworker? He only snapped out of his thoughts when you retrieved your phone back, your thumbs danced across the screen then he felt his pocket vibrate.
“Did you get it?” You asked curiously, tilting your head so cutely to the side. “L-let me check.” Sol quickly said and pulled out his phone. His boring black phone background was illuminated with your text.
Unknown: hii! it’s ______ :D
Without a moment of hesitation he saved your contact. ______ 🌙
His contact was saved with a sun by his name so it only made sense that you were the moon. With that, you two said your goodbyes and Sol watched as you walked down the hall, he stood in his spot with a small smile on his lips.
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It was the weekend which meant Sol would do his weekly cleaning of his apartment. Loud music echoed throughout the apartment as he cleaned, humming softly to himself. Something caught his eye as he was vacuuming under the couch, a small piece of rectangular plastic glittered as it caught the light from the ceiling fan. Crouching, he picked it up and his eyes widened instantly when he realized what it was. Your ID had fallen out from the pocket of your jacket, he assumed. And all of your information was on it.
“______ ______..” Sol whispered your full name. He didn't know what it was before. Your address was there too, and it looked recent, judging from the picture and expiration date. The card shook ever so slightly in his fingers as he was practically salivating that he would now be able to find so many more things about you.
Halting his cleaning for the day, he shut off the music and instantly opened up his laptop to begin searching your name online. Hours had passed, day turned into night. Sol’s scarlet red irises were glazed over, his lips dry and mouth a bit parched. He hadn’t left his laptop screen in hours, too engrossed with finding out every single detail about you. Your social media wasn’t private, how foolish of you. And he scrolled through the dozens of pictures you had posted, finding out everyone you associated it with. The page refreshed and a new picture was posted. You are with a group of people at what looked like a bar, with the caption: Love my friends!! Tonight was so fun, let’s do it again!! :D
Sol remembered the text from this “Crowe” earlier and he began to examine the picture, trying to find out who this Crowe was. His eyes narrowed when he saw the man next to you in the picture. A long haired brunette with tan skin, he swore he had seen that face before. This Crowe was behind your frame, hands resting on either of your shoulders. To anyone else they would have assumed that you and the man were friends, nothing in the pose indicated anything romantic, but to Sol it was too much. He didn’t want to see another man behind you touching you like that. Standing up he slammed his laptop shut and decided he needed to go to bed before he got too consumed by his jealousy and anger.
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As days turned into weeks, then eventually into months, Sol and you grew closer. You were regularly texting and hanging out. He had found out that your lunches consisted of junk food, and that was even if you brought lunch to campus. So he decided to start prepping your lunches, and even dinners as soon as he found out you ate cup noodles nearly every night. God, you were cute albeit a bit useless, he didn’t mind cooking for you, it only made him feel wanted - and the look on your face every time you ate his meals just made him filled with so much joy.
You were so kind and introduced him to your friend group, Crowe was kind enough and he kept his hands off of you in Sol’s presence. But he knew that man looked familiar, and Crowe looked at him with suspicious eyes and a fake smile. Sol only remained cordial with your friends though, if they made you happy he’d pretend to be friendly with them. But the man never returned your ID, it was his now. You complained about having to buy a new one, but he made sure to slip some extra cash into your backpack one day when you weren’t looking. The text he received that night was so adorable. “Omg Sol I found some cash at the bottom of my backpack. I’m eating good tonight! >:3”
It was so worth it. But Sol had a dirty secret that he couldn’t tell a living soul. He was slipping sleeping medication into the dinners he made you, he made a copy of your apartment key, and he was letting himself into your home every night. It was all in an attempt to make sure you were safe!
“My neighborhood is so unsafe. I really need to find somewhere else to live. There’s been so many recent break ins and assaults, and I live at ground level.” He remembered you complaining.
“You can stay at my place, _______. It’s a decent neighborhood. Lots of old people, so it’s quiet.” He offered.
“Sol! No, I can't do that. You already do enough for me. I got new locks on everything and alarms.” You retorted with a pout. He knew you wouldn’t change your mind, you weren’t that type of girl. You were independent, but that was okay. Sol would still keep an eye on you. Knowing you kept a spare key hidden away, he found it and while you were at work he had a copy made, then placed the key back without you being none the wiser.
Tonight wasn’t any different, Sol waited until you were asleep and he slipped into your quiet, dark apartment. He could navigate your home in the dark. That's how familiar he was with the layout, but the dim street lights also did aid him. Your bedroom door was slightly ajar and he quickly made his way in.
The streetlights illuminated your room, he saw your sleeping form on the bed, one hand hanging off the side of the bed and your blankets messily thrown on top of your body. In fact, the blankets barely covered any of your body. You wore an oversized t-shirt and the cutest panties - the shirt was raised and exposed your bare torso. “Were you waiting for me dear?” He whispered as he knelt down at your bedside. Folding his hands on the edge of the bed, he rested his chin on top, his gaze was so loving - but there was something so dark about the way he looked at you. Raising a hand up, Sol’s slender fingers brushed aside the hair on your face. “So cute…” he breathed out.
You shifted, your eyes squeezing shut as a quiet groan left your lips. When you moved through, your shirt lifted just a bit more, revealing your breast partially. Sol felt his face grow warm and he tried to avert his gaze, but it was like you were practically begging for him, looking so cute and innocent. He choked back a moan as he felt his dick get hard, his fingers wrapped around the wrist of your limp hand and he placed his cheek into your warm palm. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a content sigh, “You're asking me to do something, huh dear?” He mumbled. That had to be it or why else were you wearing such an outfit is that why you left your bedroom door opened? You were inviting him in, right?
Sol leaned down to press a kiss to your exposed neck, he nibbled softly at the skin. A quiet whimper escaping you as your brows furrowed. So cute. He thought, still nipping at the skin, leaving a faint red mark. His hand trailed down your neck until his fingers reached your breast, he gently massaged it for a brief moment. Another quiet whimper came from you. He let your hand that was cupping his cheek fall onto the bed for a moment, as his fingers fumbled with the belt of his pants and with a swift motion his dick was out. Already hard from anticipation, he positioned himself in your hands, he laced both your and his fingers together. He let out a moan feeling your fingers wrapped around his dick.
His whole body shuddered in pleasure at the feeling, and he buried his face between your breasts to quiet his moans as he began to rock his hips back and forth. His sensitive tip fucked your palm as he moaned out your name from between your breasts. Tears pooling at the corner of his closed eyes as pathetic needy whimpers left him.
“You’re mine. Mine..you’re mine ______. I love you so much.” He cried as he felt himself about to cum. Then, with another thrust he came hard into your and his laced hands. As he calmed his breathing down he slowly lifted his head up, you were still asleep, oblivious to the lewd act he just made you do. “You’re so beautiful, dear. You feel so perfect.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
Standing up he pulled his pants back on, then walked to the bathroom to wash his sticky hands. Grabbing a rag he wet, he walked back to clean up the mess he left on your hands. “Crowe..the paper...” you mumbled in your sleep. Sol’s scarlet eyes widened in shock at the name, why were you talking about him when he was right here. His fists clenched and eyes narrowed, a dark cloud casting over his face. “You really ought to stop talking about him, dear. Crowe doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand you like I do.” He hissed through gritted teeth. You were just confused - that’s okay, Sol was patient. He leaned down to press a kiss against your lips once again before wishing you a good night. With that, he quietly slipped out of your apartment.
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The final day of class before winter break came the next day. You and Sol sat in art class together, sketching your final assignment. The classroom was quiet as everyone worked. You kept glancing at the dark haired man next you, a faint blush on your face as you remembered the brief dream you had of him last night. You dreamt that he was having sex with you, you heard his moans as he fucked you. Then, just before the dream actually got good, your mind decided that all of a sudden you were going to dream about you and Crowe finishing up your finals paper for English class that you had done earlier yesterday. God! Why did his stupid pretty face have to ruin the best dream you ever had!
Class couldn’t end any sooner and the Professor motioned for everyone to turn in their assignments. He reminded the students to check their emails during the winter break to see their grades. You quickly stood out of your seat, the chair nearly falling back as you fumbled with putting your things away. Sol noticed that something was off about you, you wouldn’t look at him at all. Surely you didn’t know what he did with you last night, right? He slung his backpack over his shoulder as he watched you as you zipped up your backpack. “Want to go to the arcade?” He asked you suddenly, “Hyugo and I are going since classes ended early today. Like right now.” He added.
Snapping your head up, you actually looked at him for the first time today. Your eyes meeting his, “O-oh…umm. I’d love to but I don’t have any…money.” You mumbled, voice trailing off at the end. “Campus library let go of all the part timers a few weeks ago, remember? And my other job cut my hours. So it’s tight right now.” You sighed sadly. “I wasn’t asking you to pay. I just asked if you wanted to come with us?” He said.
Sol noticed a strand of hair hanging in front of your face so reached a gentle hand up to brush it aside, tucking the strand behind your ear. “I’ll pay. You know I’ll always take care of you, ______.” He reminded you with a kind smile that made your heart flutter. It was something he always told you, you weren’t sure why he was so kind to you when you had nothing to offer him in return. You were a broke college student who couldn’t even cook your own meals. A faint blush dusted your cheeks as you shyly looked away, “O..okay. Then yes, I want to go.” You shyly said as you tugged at the sleeves of your favorite jacket.
“Alright, good. Here I’ll carry your bag. Hyugo should be waiting at the entrance.” Sol said, taking your bag from you with a swift motion. You tried to protest but he was already walking ahead so you were more focused on catching up to him.
The walk to the arcade didn’t take long, but you were shivering from the cold winter breeze. Sol noticed you shivering and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to him. You looked up at him before looking away shyly. Once inside the arcade, the three of you played games for some time. You pointed at a claw machine, wanting to win the cute cat plushie, you tapped at the glass before looking back up at Sol with big pleading eyes. “Aw, it's so cute. Do we have enough coins to win it?” You asked excitedly. Sol patted his pockets and sighed, shaking his head. “No, but I can go get some more if you’d like?” He asked, he just wanted to see you happy.
Hyugo nodded, “Yeah let’s play some more games! Oh, let’s get some food too. I’m starving!” He exclaimed, nudging Sol’s side. Sol looked at you, waiting for your answer. “That sounds good to me. While you two do that, I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll meet you back here.” You said. The pair nodded and with that you went your separate ways.
You found the restroom. It was located in the back of the arcade and once done, you hummed quietly as you made your way back to the claw machine with the plushie you wanted. But you unbeknownst drew unwanted attention to yourself; you hadn’t even stepped a few feet back out of the bathroom when you were immediately cornered by a much taller and bigger man than yourself. He backed you in between two large pinball machines, leaving you trapped. “Hey sexy. You got a boyfriend?” He slurred, it was obvious he was drunk. He had both of his arms on either side of your head so you could barely move. “Not interested.” You spat as you tried pushing him away, but to no avail. That seemed to only anger him more as he lowered his face to be at eye level with you. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll treat you nicely.” He said, though this time his voice was much darker. The stench of alcohol lingered with every breath he took. You turned your face to the side, but that seemed to only anger him and this time he grabbed your jaw roughly in his hands, forcing you to look at him.
“Don’t turn away, sweetheart. Just come on let me sh—“ he began, but suddenly his hand was ripped away from your face and you closed your eyes, fully expecting to get hit. You heard shouting and skin hitting skin, you still kept your eyes shut, flinching with every sound. The noise of the arcade was too loud and you slid down the wall, covering your face with your hands as you buried your face against your knees.
“Don’t you fucking touch her! I’ll kill you!” You heard a familiar voice shout, it was then you uncovered your face and your eyes widened in shock as you saw Sol fighting with the man, both with bloody noses. Hyugo pulled Sol away while a random person held back the other man. The two men were still shouting curses at one another, though you were so overwhelmed you could barely understand what they were saying. You noticed Hyugo was having trouble holding back Sol, so you quickly scrambled to your feet and stepped in front of the dark haired man, pressing your hands against his chest. “Sol! *Enough!*” you pleaded, tears forming in your eyes. The drunk man had lost his balance at some point and fell to the floor, but he was still threatening you and Sol. The man called you every name in the book, and he was mocking you - but you didn’t care. You just wanted to get out of here. There was a terrifying look in Sol’s scarlet eyes and it turned your blood cold. “Sol *please,* let’s just go.” You pleaded with him once again.
As soon as Sol heard your voice waver, he stopped and his eyes widened in a mixture of horror and guilt as he realized that you were crying. He cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head, “No, no, no. Please don’t cry. I’m done. We can go.” He said in a panic, “He didn’t hurt you, right? He didn’t touch you?” He asked. You shook your head, “No. I’m okay.” You reassured him, just wanting to leave. Your lip quivered as you looked up at him and you simply nodded, taking his hand in yours as you dragged him out of the arcade. Though when Sol was certain you weren’t looking, he turned back to the man and spat at him before he followed you out.
Once outside you wiped your tears away with your jacket sleeve, smearing your makeup a bit in the process, but you didn’t care. You didn’t dare let go of Sol’s hand, afraid that if you did he would turn back and actually kill the man. Hyugo sighed, rubbing his temples, “We should leave before the cops get called.” He mumbled. Sol clicked his tongue in annoyance, “We didn’t do anything wrong. That low life touched ______. I just defended her.” He spat back. You tugged Sol’s hand, “I want to go home.” You sniffled. “I’ll walk her home. You go ahead, Hyugo.” He said. The blue haired man raised a brow, by the way he looked at his friend you sensed that maybe he didn’t want to leave him alone. “You’ll call right? As soon as you dropped ______ off at home?” He asked, his brows furrowing.
Sol had already wrapped his arm around your waist, your and his backpack slung over his shoulders. “Yeah, I will. See you later.” He said pulling you along to walk off in the other direction. Hyugo just nodded watching as you two walked off.
Sol didn’t let go of your waist for the whole walk home, he held you protectively, glaring at anyone who looked in your general direction. Once you arrived back at your apartment you fished around in your jacket pocket for your keys, eventually finding them and unlocking the door. “Do..do you want to come in?” You asked Sol shyly. You were really inviting him inside! He felt his heart skip a beat and he swallowed nervously, “Sure.” He smiled and stepped inside after you, setting down the bags onto a stool by the door.
You untied your sneakers and left them at the door before you looked up at the tall man. “Do you want tea? Coffee?” You asked him.
“What do you want? I can start the water.” He asked you back.
“Tea sounds good. Something relaxing.” You replied, motioning him to follow you into the kitchen. You poured water into the electric kettle on the countertop as you reached into the cabinets to grab two cups. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change real quick.” You smiled before walking off towards your bedroom to change. Sol already knew where everything was located, so he grabbed two tea bags, setting them into the ceramic mugs as he waited for the water to boil. Then a thought ran through his mind as his hand absentmindedly rested on his front pocket. You didn’t get to eat the dinner he made you for tonight which meant you wouldn’t sleep well.
So before the water was done boiling he pulled out a small bag in his pocket, and broke apart the sleeping pill, letting it dissolve in the hot water. He just wanted to make sure that you’d be able to sleep tonight was all.
When you walked back out of your room, your tea was already made and Sol was sipping on his as he leaned against the wall. He looked at your outfit, did you wear something like that on purpose to tease him? You wore tight shorts, a tank top, your favorite jacket unzipped, and the cutest bunny shaped slippers. “Thank you so much, Sol.” You smiled at him as you held the mug in your hands and slowly sipped on it. He nodded, “Of course. Anything for you.” He said returning your smile. You chatted with him for a while it was obvious that you were just stalling, you didn’t want him to leave. You were still shaken up from earlier, from both how Sol reacted and to what may have happened if he wasn’t there to save you from that man.
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You sat on the couch, legs crossed as some random show played quietly in the background. Sol sat across from you, you both had long finished your tea. He could tell you were getting a bit more sluggish, “I’m sleepy, Sol.” You yawned. “You should go..it’s getting late. Hyugo is probably worried about you.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your sleeve. Sol frowned, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I want to make sure that you’re okay.” He replied back, he didn’t want to leave you alone.
“I’m okay. I just don’t want to be alone..” you sniffled. “I think someone has been breaking into my house.” You then said, flicking your gaze up to look at him with a worried expression. Sol froze, his breath hitched in his throat. “W..what? Why do you think that?” He asked, trying to remain calm. Folding your hands together in your lap, your eyes darted around before landing back on him, “Sometimes things are out of place.” Is all you said, “So please don’t leave me alone.” You then pleaded, suddenly leaning over towards him on all fours.
Sol’s eyes flickered to your face and to the gap between your shirt, he could see you weren’t wearing a bra and he shifted awkwardly in his spot on the couch as he tried to remaining eye contact with you. Placing a hand over his crotch, he let out a cough, a dark red blush making its way to his pale features. “Okay. I won’t. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” He responded, a look of desperation in his eyes. You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach when he said those words. Then your mind wandered back to the dream you had last night, you sat back legs now folded underneath you.
“Can you come lay down with me in bed?” You asked him, looking away shyly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stay up much longer. Plus it’s more comfortable than staying out here.” You added. Sol found it hard to even speak now, he nodded and bit his lip. You stood up and began to walk towards your bedroom, turning off the lights along the way. Before you rounded the corner you noticed that he was still sitting on the couch, “Are you coming? You don’t have—“ you began only to be cut off by him springing up, “I am.” He mumbled shyly as he followed you into your familiar bedroom.
Your bedsheets were messily strewn about on your bed, like always. Clothes tossed haphazardly throughout the room, he watched as you shrugged off your jacket, tossing it on the vanity chair and you kicked off your slippers. You crawled into bed, pulling the sheets over your cold body. “What do you usually wear to sleep, Sol?” You asked him curiously, waiting for him to come lay down as yet another yawn left you.
“My..boxers.” Sol replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your cute gaze. “You can sleep like that here. I don’t mind.” You mumbled motioning with your hand for him to come lay down. “A-are you sure?” He stammered, already unbuckling his belt, his hands shaking a bit in anticipation. “Mhm.” You hummed reassuringly, squeezing your legs together tightly. Sol wasted no time in taking off his clothes, it was a shame the room was so dimly lit so you couldn’t see him. He sat at the edge of the bed, still unsure of what he needed to do.
You tugged at his wrist, “Lay down with me. Under the blankets.” You encouraged him in a sleepy voice. He let you pull him down onto the bed, his heart was racing so fast he found it hard to breathe. As you both now laid under the covers he could feel your body heat, you were so close to him. Your bed wasn’t big by any means, so your bodies were practically touching. “I really like you, Sol.” You suddenly said, you weren’t sure why you blurted that out, maybe it was your drowsy drugged state that made you say something you didn’t mean to.
Sol’s eyes widened in shock as he turned his head to face you. He could make out your soft features from the dim city streetlights that peaked through the curtains. Your hand now was on his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. “You take care of me. You’re so kind. I’ve never had anybody care for me like you do.” You mumbled, leaning over until your noses touched.
Sol raised a shaking hand to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I’ll always take care of you, ______. I’ll be here. No matter what.” He whispered back. His words were so kind and gentle, yet there was darkness in which he spoke. You blushed and looked away, your eyes closing shut as you finally closed the distance between your lips. You were a bit unsure on how to kiss him, not wanting to mess with his lip rings too much, but as soon as your lips met something clicked inside the raven haired man.
He returned your kiss desperately, not wanting to stop. Were you really doing this? Was this seriously happening?! He thought. It was a shame you were half asleep, but it still didn’t stop you from your next move. You rolled onto of him, your legs straddling his waist as you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with inexperience. It wasn’t like Sol minded though, he was also just as inexperienced. His hands were on your waist, fingernails digging into your soft skin as he let out a needy whimper when he felt you grinding against his dick.
“Do you like me, Sol?” You asked him, breaking away from the kiss for a few moments as you continued to grind against him. When he took too long to answer you paused and lifted yourself up about to get up. Feeling utterly rejected by him, humiliated. But his hands slammed you back down on top of him. A crazed look on his face, “Y-yes I do. I like you. You’re my soulmate, ______.” He desperately spoke, his eyes flickering trying to read your expression. All you heard was “yes”, as you began to fade in and out of consciousness, despite desperately trying to stay awake.
“G..good.” You mumbled against his lips, beginning to grind against him again as you cupped his face. Sol returned your kisses as he let out whiny moans of your name, begging you for more. He wanted to feel your pussy, god knows how long he had waited to fuck you. His hands let go of your hips and now tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He managed to slip them off and when he felt how wet your panties were a pathetic whimper left his lips. He pushed your panties aside and now he could really feel how wet your pussy was. His dick pushed between your folds, you shivered as you felt his tip slide over your clit. “S-sol.” You whimpered his name.
Oh god, just you saying his name so lewdly was almost enough to push him over the edge. “A-ah.” He cried out as he felt your pace quicken. He loved the way you were using him, like he was nothing more than a toy for you to hump to reach your orgasm. The head of his dick was so sensitive and he felt your clit rubbing against it. “I..I’m gonna cum.” He warned you. Sol’s fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs as he bucked his hips upward. “I-I wanna fuck you…please. Feel your pussy…please.” He begged, biting your lip. But you ignored him continuing to grind against his hard dick as your moans became a bit louder, your thighs shaking. You could feel yourself about to cum, but Sol suddenly let out a yell. “A-ah ahh ______.” He cried as his hot cum shot out. He threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as tears pooled in the corner of them, his back arched, and fingernails scratching your thighs enough to leave a mark and draw some blood. His body shook under yours.
You felt the warm sensation rising from your core, your clit becoming more sensitive by the seconds. Sol’s thick cum now providing more lubrication. His whimpering of your name and pleading was enough to push you over the edge and moments later you joined him in his orgasm. You cried out his name as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm. Honestly you weren’t sure if you were or not, your mind was so hazy. Then you suddenly came to a stop, your body shaking a bit as your eyes closed shut.
Sol caught his breath, his hands rubbed up and down your back and he realized you had fallen asleep. The medicine had taken its full effect. He wrapped his arms tightly around you pressing a kiss on top of your head a content smile on his lips. “You’re mine. Mine…you’ll never have to be alone again.” He mumbled against your hair. His scarlet eyes gazing at the ceiling as you were fast asleep against his chest. At some point he fell asleep still holding onto you, with his dick between your thighs.
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You had awoken the next morning a bit groggy, you realized you were in bed with someone and you stared down in horror as you realized that you had slept with Sol. You only remembered bits and pieces of the nights before, and your sticky panties confirmed that you two had been intimate in some way. You wiggled out of his strong arms as quietly as you could and rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your phone careful to not wake him up.
After you cleaned yourself up and changed, you sat on the ledge of the bathtub typing away rapidly on your phone.
Crowe I NEED YOU NOW!!!!
What’s up? You okay?
NOOO. I think I just messed up. I think I ruined a friendship.
Woah calm down, ______. Is this about him?
YES. Can we meet up at the cafe? Please. Right now.
Yes. I’ll be there in a few.
Thanks.
With that you clicked your phone shut and quickly got dressed into your clothes from yesterday, not wanting to disturb Sol’s sleep. You peeked into your room and still saw him resting. You left the house getting your wallet and keys and tossing them into your jacket.
Sol woke up not long after you had left the house and when he didn’t feel your presence he immediately shot up in bed, panic beginning to set in. Where were you?! He grabbed his phone getting ready to dial your number when he saw a text appear on the screen.
I’ll be back soon. :3
He calmed down a bit, laying the phone in his lap as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Why didn’t you tell him you had somewhere to go? Why would you leave alone in the morning after everything that had happened last night? It was then he felt a bit angry, wondering why you were sneaking around. Snatching his phone back up he called you but you kept ignoring his calls, finally though you answered.
“Hello.” Your voice came through on the other end, there was also another voice on the other end too. It was one he recognized. It was Crowe. He felt himself grow even more angry as jealousy filled him. Why the hell are you with him?!
“Who are you with?” Sol asked, his voice as sickly sweet.
“Shhhh be quiet. Yeah, hi Sol, I’m with a friend. Don’t worry, I’ll be back home soon.” He heard you shushing Crowe. His grip tightened on the phone, if he squeezed any harder he may have shattered the screen. “When will you be back? Where are you?” He asked, this time his tone wasn’t as sweet.
“Sol…please don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll be back home soon. I gotta go.” You reassured him before hanging up.
Sol was furious, he slammed the phone face down onto the night stand, the glass screen shattering. Why is he interfering? Why does she keep hanging out with him? Doesn’t he know ______’s mine?! So many jealous thoughts flowed through his head as he quickly got dressed. He freshened himself up before he left your apartment, storming on the busy streets. What you hadn’t known was that Sol had installed a tracker on your phone many nights ago. He was really trying to give you the chance to tell him where you were without having to resort to using the tracker, but you wouldn’t tell him. He had no other choice but to use it, and make sure you were okay. He had to make sure that filthy Crowe wasn’t touching you. And he needed to show the brunet who you belonged to.
It was a rainy day and he didn’t care if he got wet, he was determined to find out where you were. The tracker led him to a busy coffee shop where he saw you and Crowe sitting near the window. His scarlet eyes met bright blue ones, belonging to the last person he wanted to see. Sol’s eyes narrowed, and all the brunet did was return a sly smirk before mouthing something to you. You whipped your head around just as Sol stormed into the coffee shop, immediately making his way to the table you two sat at. He tried to maintain his composure, his chest rising with every deep breath he took as he glared at the man sitting across from you.
“Sol? H-How did you know I was here?” You asked him in shock. He ignored your question continuing to glare daggers at Crowe, who sipped on his coffee nonchalantly. “Hey there. Care to join us?” He asked with a polite smile, motioning with his hand to the available seat.
“No. ______, we’re going home. Now.” Sol demanded, now turning to look at you. He grabbed your wrist and you tried to jerk away, “Ow, Sol!” You cried out, which caused him to immediately drop your hand. “Are you okay?” He asked, his angry expression now etched into worry. You frowned, rubbing your wrist, “Y..yeah. I told you I’d be gone later. Please stop this.” You pleaded, looking at him with big eyes.
“You should be gentle with her, Sol.” Crowe scolded half heartedly. “______, you should go. Don’t keep him waiting. We can talk soon, I have to get to work anyways.” He smiled warmly at you.
“But I—“ you stammered, but the brunet cut you off with a wave. “Seriously, it’s fine. Just remember what we talked about, okay?” He winked, it was purposeful, he was trying to get under Sol’s skin and it was working.
Sol grabbed your wrist a bit more gently this time as you stood up, “We’re leaving. Bye.” He spat, glaring at the man as he dragged you out of the coffee shop. All the while Crowe watched with furrowed brows and a forced smile. He didn’t like Sol, he didn’t like him at all. But whatever made you happy, he’d tolerate.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ 🍋
Sol was dragging you down the street as you squirmed under his tight grasp on your wrist. The whole time you demanded to know what had gotten into him! This wasn’t the Sol you knew. Ever since the arcade, you noticed a sudden shift in his personality, it was instantaneous. As you two arrived back at your apartment, he shoved you inside with a forceful hand, slamming and locking the door shut. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sol?!” You screamed at him as you tossed your phone, keys, and wallet onto the kitchen counter.
Sol’s eyes were narrowed still as he walked towards you, instinctively you stumbled backwards until you found yourself with your back pinned against the wall with nowhere to go. His tall frame towering above you. “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one sneaking around with that bastard.” He hissed as he slammed his palms on either side of your head, pinning you between his arms. “I’ve tolerated him long enough. Doesn’t he know you belong to me?! I’m the one that’s caring for you and protecting you. While he does nothing.” He snapped angrily.
You cowered beneath him, beginning to grow a bit scared, “Y-you’re scaring me, Sol.” You whimpered. He clicked his tongue in annoyance; he didn’t like you pretending to be innocent in all of this. Perhaps you and that bastard needed reminding of who you belonged to. Sol crashed his lips against yours roughly, you felt his tongue trace the bottom of your lip. But when you were tightening your lips together to deny him, he bit your lip causing your lips to part open in surprise and with that his pierced tongue forced its way into your mouth. One hand on your jaw forcing your head to tilt up. You tasted like coffee and sugar, he didn’t mind at all though. It suited you.
You cried against him. He was being so forceful it was terrifying. He pulled away panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting your and his lips. His hand was still firmly holding your chin. “I don’t think you realize, dear. That you’re mine. No one else can have you. Ever. I won’t allow it.” He muttered. He noticed that your eyes were watery and a sympathetic smile made its way to his pierced lips. “Aww..please don’t cry, baby. I don’t want to make you cry. I promise I’ll make you feel good. You just need to be reminded that you’re mine.” He said in a gentle voice as his thumb wiped away your tears.
“I’m scared.” You whimpered.
Sol leaned down to press a much more gentle kiss to your lips, “You won’t be for long. You’ll be feeling so good in a minute.” He purred and with that he picked you up holding you so gently in his arms bridal style as he continued to kiss your lips. Once inside the bedroom he tossed you onto the bed and hovered over you beginning to tug at the waistband of your pants. “N-no Sol.” You whined but your arousal said otherwise. The truth was you were so turned on by him. You had wanted him in this way for so long.
Sol ignored your pleas and within a couple minutes he had you stripped of your clothes. You laid on your back on the bed as you looked at his nearly naked body, he stood only in his boxers. And now with the sun peeking through the blinds basking the room in a bright light you saw just how big Sol was. His body was well toned, just perfect. You saw the erection in his pants and you swallowed nervously at just how big he was. You weren’t sure if he was even fully hard yet.
You didn’t get to stare at him for too long though as he got to his knees, kneeling in front of your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good dear. You won’t ever think of anyone else but me.” He said it almost came out as a warning. His slender hands pushed your legs apart and the look of pure lust was on his face. You tried to cover yourself up with your hands but he wouldn’t let you. “So pretty.” He whispered. God, he dreamt for so long to be buried between your thighs eating you out.
You jumped when you felt Sol’s tongue licking your pussy, the muscle dragging slowly between the slit. You felt the cold metal piercing drag along sending a shiver up your spine. He let out a moan as he tasted you. God, you tasted better than he could have ever imagined. He pushed your legs further apart and spread open your pussy, you squirmed a bit at being so exposed. Your hands balled up the fabric of the bed sheet beneath you as you felt the ball of his piercing roll over your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan. You knew you messed up when you gave him that reaction, because he immediately began to suck at your sensitive clit, rolling his piercing over it every single time causing you to moan louder. His tongue moving from teasing your clit to probing your wet hole. He wanted to taste every bit of you, this was pure bliss for the raven haired man.
“So good.” Sol praised. It was hard to focus as he sucked the sensitive bud, your head spinning as your legs quivered. He wouldn’t let you close your legs, no matter how much you tried. His tongue worked so expertly, he knew exactly how to get you whimpering under him. “Sol!” You yelped when you felt his tongue enter you, causing your hips to buck and your back to arch. It was such a strange feeling but god it felt so good. He was trying to fuck you with his tongue. Your hands tangled in his dark loose hair as you tilted his head back up to focus on your clit. “I-I’m gonna..” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as the warm sensation began to build more and more. Your breathing became more frantic and with another roll of his pierced tongue against your clit, your legs closed, Sol’s face still between your thighs as you held him there cumming all over his face. You were practically screaming his name as he continued to suck on your overstimulated clit. You begged him to stop, so he did and instead decided to clean you up.
Sol’s tongue lapped up every last bit of your juices, you tasted so amazing. He was drunk off of your scent—taste. Everything about you drove him crazy. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, licking your pussy and letting you cum all over his face. He was yours to use. “N-no more. Please.” You begged, your body falling limp.
Sol gave you one last taste, his tongue swiping up the full length of your pussy before he sat up. He licked his wet lips, “See..I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, dear.” He said matter of factly. He stood up pulling down his boxers revealing his hard dick. When you looked at him you nearly choked on your own spit. How the hell were you supposed to take him? He hadn’t stretched you out with his fingers to prepare you. “I-I can’t take you without—“ you began. But Sol leaned forward kissing you, shutting you up. “It’s okay. I’ll be slow.” He mumbled against your lips.
His tall frame towered above you, it was so intimidating, the way he looked at you with half lidded eyes and a small smile on his face. His arms were on either side of you pinning you between him. You felt the tip of his dick poke at your entrance. Sol continued to gently kiss you as he pushed himself inside you, he let out quiet whimpers as slowly filled you up. His body shuddered at the sensation, your tight pussy was everything he had ever dreamed off. “Fuck…oh god you feel so good, ______.” He moaned as he sat up now. Placing his hands on your inner thighs, he spread your legs apart as far as he could without hurting you. He wanted to see how well you took him.
Inch by inch Sol sank into you, it was agonizing how slow he went but by the look on his face he was savoring every moment. He was panting quietly trying to control himself, he did want to hear his soulmate after all. You squirmed under his strong grasp as he filled you up beyond belief. You weren’t ready to take him, he was so big it hurt. “S-Sol.” You cried, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you felt the tip hit deep inside, causing you to flinch in pain.
“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, dear.” He praised you. And without warning Sol snapped his hips back and slammed back into you, causing you to yelp. He couldn’t resist himself as he began to roughly fuck you. His fingernails digging into the soft skin of your thighs and quiet moans left him. He stayed quiet because he wanted to hear your sweet sounds.
He watched the face you made as every single time he hit that sweet spot of your pussy. The way your lips parted as you moaned his name and the how your back arched as he fucked you. The way your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust. He noticed the creamy white ring forming on the base of his cock. You felt so perfect, it was as if..”We were made for each other, ______.” He whispered. Sol let go your thighs, confident that you’d keep your legs spread out. He now cupped your breasts, fingertips lightly teasing your perked nipples as he watched you shudder under his touch.
Sol frowned, “Something’s missing.” He said in between pants as he continued to relentlessly fuck you. His pace was not slowing down at all, you were exhausted already, your pussy ached from how hard he was slamming into you. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to walk in the morning. “W-what?” You asked confused by what he meant but he didn’t answer you, instead leaned down to bite your neck. You cried out in surprise. He actually bit you. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck, not caring if he hurt you. After all, everyone needed to know you were his.
Your hands tangled in his hair as you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now running down your face. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped one hand between your thighs. You body twitched when you felt the pad of thumb rub your clit, all the while he never stopped fucking and marking you. He let out a low laugh when he felt your body twitch underneath him.
Sol could tell you were close to coming, by how your breathing became more erratic, how you held him closer. “Are you going to cum for me, dear?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, which annoyed the dark haired man. He sat up, ripping himself from your grasp and stopped rubbing circles against your sensitive clit. “You need to answer me.” He growled and just to emphasize the point, he pulled nearly all the way out before he snapped his hips forward. You cried loudly, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, “Y-yes. I wanna cum for you, Sol.” You whimpered, looking up at him with the cutest expression.
Sol smiled lovingly at you, satisfied with your answer, “You’re so cute when you beg, dear.” He spoke gently and with that he returned to stimulating your clit. Your mind was hazy as you felt your orgasm building up, you were only focused on one thing and that was coming. Your hands reached up to dig their fingernails in the skin of his bicep. “You’re so close. I can tell. Just cum for me. Please. I want to feel it so bad.” Sol begged in a whiny, desperate tone as he quickened his pace. And just like that you practically screamed his name, your body shaking as you came around his cock.
You orgasming and screaming his name was the most beautiful thing Sol had ever witnessed. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, it was better than he could ever imagine. He felt your pussy tighten around him and soon after he was coming too. Sol threw his head back as his dick twitched, coating your insides with thick cum. He was buried deep inside you, holding your thighs firmly so he could adequately fill you up. “You’re so beautiful. So pretty, full of my cum.” He mumbled, gazing down at you now.
Sol gently pushed your legs apart as he pulled out of you and watched in awe as his cum leaked out of your tight pussy. It was a heavenly sight. He sighed in satisfaction, flopping down onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around your tired body, pulling you onto his chest. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as you clung into him tightly. “No one will ever make you feel this good, dear. You were made for me. We’re soulmates.” Sol said barely above a whisper as he gazed at the white ceiling. “You’re mine. I won’t ever let anyone come between us. Ever. I love you so much, ______.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His embrace tightening around you when he said that.
There was something threatening about the way Sol spoke. You were a bit scared, but you had no reason to be, right? He just loved you and you loved him. “I love you, Sol.” You sniffled. Sol just smiled at your words. He finally had you all to himself.
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yeonzzzn · 3 months ago
Text
book lovers ; park jongseong
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pairing: booknerd/bf!jay x booknerd!afab!reader word count: 3.2k synopsis: when your book loving boyfriend has you read a specific part of the current book you’re reading out loud to him. warnings: book reading shenanigans, swearing, SMUT, marking, dry humping, praising, hair pulling, fingering, unprotected sex, finger sucking, cum eating, slight choking, lmk if I missed anything, MINORS DNI!! specially dt to: @niki-riki-nishimura-riki 🩵
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Of course, it would be on the top shelf. Why wouldn’t it be? 
You tucked your button lip between your teeth, glancing around the bookstore to see if any ladder or step stool was available, and to your dismay, there wasn’t. 
And as much as you’d love the climb up these shelves like a fucking gremlin, you hold yourself back and instead stand on your tippy toes to reach as high as the length of your arm would let you. It's not your fault you’re a short queen. 
Or that you already have a stack of books in your other arm tucked closely to your body that may or may not be another reason you can’t reach the top shelf. 
Who are you kidding, it’s honestly just because you’re short. 
You feel with another willpower and praying, your fingers will grab the spin of the book and pull it from the shelf. Once you can get a grip, it’s being pulled from the shelf—but not by you. 
With confusion written on your face, you turn to grab the book, slowly placing both feet back firmly on the ground. The one who grabbed it was incredibly handsome. Dark hair and black glasses pushed up his nose, his hair falling over the frames as he looked at the cover of the book, blue button-up long-sleeved that was rolled up to his elbows, and black slacks. He finally looks up at you, a small smile curling up. 
“You know, I was caught between if I should continue to watch you struggle—and laugh, or to help you,” you raised a brow at him, damn tall people, “I chose the ladder.” 
“Obviously,” you mumble, reaching for the book as he extends it out to you, “But thank you for deciding to help me.”
He smiles more, eyes drifting to your book in the other arm, “Nice book haul you have there,” he points to the books and you all of a sudden forget what you even had in your arms. 
You quickly glance down, seeing a few volumes of manga, a new fantasy book your best friend recommended, a popular fiction title, and lastly, the book you were having trouble reaching, “Uh thanks,” you say, looking back up at him, and noticing his own couple books in his arm, “You have good taste as well.” 
“Ah! Thanks!” he glances down at the carpeted floor, “Not every day you meet someone with the same book interests as yourself.” 
Now it was your turn to smile, “Yeah, really is hard to find nowadays.” 
He made eye contact with you and you swore your heart stopped, lips parting slightly. His dark orbs really drew you in. Until he places his index finger on the book he grabbed for you, “Pretty cute covers like these always have the nastiest smut in them.” 
Your face heats up. With a grin, he turns and starts to walk away, “You’d know, wouldn’t you!” You shout, loving the way he turns back around and gives you a wink. 
“Obviously!” he shouts as he is further away, “We like the same genres.” 
You don’t know what came over you, because the next you knew, you were shouting even more, “YN!”
“Jay!” he replies, tilting his head towards the check out, “Let me buy your books, YN.” 
A year and a half later, you still get Jay’s heart racing just like when you two first met. He’s hooked on you. Absolutely fucking hooked. You were also completely hooked on him too. Not even hesitating to let him buy your books that day and even agreeing to get coffee with him afterward. Which obviously led to exchanging phone numbers, book recs, and eventually make-out sessions after meeting up a few times. The two of you just fit so well, two pieces of a perfect puzzle. Of course, it was meant to be and of course, you said yes when he asked you to be his girlfriend, how could you not when he showed up to your doorstep with a bag of books from your to-be-read list and a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee two months after meeting. 
Jay just couldn’t get enough of you. You are his every waking and sleeping thought. So it only made sense for him to ask you to move into his studio apartment with him nine months into your relationship. It was the second easiest thing he’s ever done, the first being buying your books that first day. 
The hardest thing though, was adding your book collection to his. You had to buy a second shelf just so all your books had a home. But Jay didn’t mind one bit. Honestly, it gave him a reason to not buy even more books and to just steal from your stack. 
It’s the perfect relationship, truly.
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You are lying comfortably on your stomach in bed, swinging your legs back and forth with your nose in your recent read. It’s a mixture of fantasy and romance with some HEAVY smut scenes. You truly had no idea this book had so much graphic sexual content, but hey! You’re not complaining! 
The two main protagonists were starting to get steamy when the front door unlocked. You turn and glance over your shoulder, smiling up at your boyfriend as he walks in the door, “Welcome back home, Seongie.” 
Jay gives you his loving smile, “Good to be back, baby,” he glances down to the book in your hands, kicking his shoes off as he closes the door behind him, “Did you make a trip to the bookstore today?” 
You nod, turning back to your book, “I even got that new sci-fi book you were talking to Heeseung about the other day. I was fixing to head to the checkout when I noticed it on one of the new release tables. Thought you’d appreciate it.” 
And oh god did he appreciate it more than words could express, “Thank you so much, baby,” he whispers, leaning over the bed to press a kiss to your forehead, “What are you reading anyway?” You didn’t stop him nor did you stop reading as he tilted the book to look at the cover, “You’re such a pervert.” 
You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, “As if, do I need to remind you of all the smut books on your shelf?” 
In any normal relationship, one would get embarrassed to be caught or find their partner reading something smutty, but thankfully your relationship with Jay isn’t normal. Both of you read sexual books all the time. Never once has it bothered either of you. Maybe it’s because your sex life was fucking fantastic and you both felt comfortable and secure with each other and sex that it wasn’t—nor ever will be—a problem. 
Jay chuckles and you continue your read, the two protags are finally getting it on and you need to know how it ends. 
Obviously, it piqued your boyfriend's interest on how good this sex scene has to be that you continued reading even though he just got home from a very long workday. So he leaned further into the bed, placing one hand on the other side of you and tilting his head against the top of yours. 
Fuck. 
His pants suddenly grew tighter against him. No wonder your interest was so attached to this book at the moment. He doesn’t blame you one bit. 
But now he has a problem, and the idea that just slipped through his brain is too good to pass up. 
Jay pulled your hair to the side, kissing from your temple and down to your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth, just like the male protagonist is currently doing in the book. You lean into him, knowing exactly what he is doing and still gripping the book in your hands. 
“Jay,” you breathe. 
“Read it out loud,” he whispers, flattening his tongue against the now purple mark he’s left on your skin and laying his body against yours. His hard length pressing to your ass, “Read out the steps to me, baby.”
With a shaky voice, you read out what the male protagonist is doing to the female protagonist. Jay’s hands move up and down your body like in the book. Squeezing your sides as he sucks more of your skin between his teeth on your neck. Leaving more and more love marks scattered around your skin. 
You’re already dizzy by just his kisses and touch. You’ve only ever dreamed about recreating sexual acts from your books and the fact it’s happening right now, the exact way you’re reading out loud, how could you not be dizzy?
“Keep reading, baby,” he bites the shell of your ear, grinding his hips against your ass, his cock twitching between your perfect cheeks. His head spun knowing you aren’t wearing any panties under your shorts.
Jay, honestly, has been wanting to spice up your sex life for a while now. Not that sex with you wasn’t fantastic already, or even in need of changing. He personally just wants to find more ways to pleasure you. To fulfill your every fantasy. What better way than to create the acts in this book?
“H-he’s wrapping her hair in his fist,” you barely make out, feeling a shift in the bed as your boyfriend pulls your hair back, twisting it around his hand, his lips not leaving your body, “P-pull it.” 
Jay hums against your neck, pulling your hair, forcing you to crank your head to the side, exposing your neck even more to him, sinking his teeth back into your skin. 
You close your eyes, relishing how good this feels, dropping the book onto the pillow. But the feeling is short-lived once Jay catches wind of this, loosening his grip on your hair and removing his mouth from your neck, “Stop reading, and I stop too.” 
“Take my clothes off,” you quickly mumble, picking the book back up and focusing on the words on the page, “He’s removing her clothing…please.” 
Jay smirks, his warm fingertips brushing against your skin at your hips, moving up your body. Goosebumps rise on your skin from his touch, “Such a good girl, baby,” he praises you, your shirt now bunched just below your breasts, “What position are they in?” 
You bite your tongue, skimming to the top of the page where you first saw it, “Her back is pressed to his chest.” 
With a yank of your hair still in his fist, your back was now pressed tightly against his, his cock now gently grinding against your lower back. Jay dropped your hair to place both hands on you, slowly lifting your shirt above your breasts, fingers gently gliding over them, “My next step?”
Your hands tremble as you continue to read the page, giving him step by step on what is happening. Your shirt is now thrown across the room along with Jay’s shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers and bare chest to your back. Hands cupping your breast and squeezing them in motion of his hips grinding against you. 
He did each step you read, leaving now your bare bodies touching, his teeth once again sinking into the skin of your neck just below your ear. One hand squeezed your breast while the other snaked down to your clit, rubbing soft circles. With shaky hands, you turned the page, barely being able to do that simple task as your boyfriend abused your swollen clit, and your nipple now being flicked and pinched between his thumb and index finger. 
You honestly just wanted him to fuck you already. Your cunt clenching around nothing and your head going dizzy from the amount of moaning and heavy breathing you’re doing, trying so hard to keep yourself upright. 
“Seongie, please,” you beg, “Please.” 
Jay shifts his face to the other side of your neck, satisfied with all the red and purple marks on the other side and knowing damn well the male character is very much still marking up his female. Jay secretly has been reading along with you. How could he not? This was hot as fuck to him, “Please, what, baby?” He knows what you want. But you’re not getting it until it happens in the book, “Be a good girl and keep reading. You’ll get what you want, my sweet girl.” 
Jay skimmed the next line on the page, “He slowly removes his finger from my clit,” Jay read out loud, “Continue it.” 
You swallow, “And slide the middle and ring fingers into my—ahh!” You don’t even get to finish the sentence, feeling your boyfriend’s fingers pushing between your gummy walls and curling them up onto your spot. Pumping them quickly in and out. 
To be honest, Jay was also starting to get impatient. His precum covered your lower back and left a string connecting each time he rutted against you. He’s already read far enough ahead on the page to know exactly when he gets to fuck you. And it’s so so close. 
“Such a good girl, baby,” he moans into your ear, grinding against you faster in movement with his fingers. You fling your head back on his shoulder. He raised his shoulder to push your head back up, “Keep reading. What do I do to you next?” 
With slightly blurry vision, you focus on the words on the page, “Fingering until my pussy is dripping cum down my thighs and your fingers, you picking up your pace.” 
“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, pressing your body tightly against him, shoving his digits in and out faster than before. Your whole body is squirming against him. Your moans fill the apartment along with strings of fuck and his name. Continuing his movements of abusing your hole until you once again fling your head back against his shoulder, dropping the book to the store and thighs squeezing his hand as you came unglued. 
And sure enough, your cum dripped down both your thighs and covered his hand. 
Jay slowly pulled his fingers from your soaked hole, collecting your essence and raising his two fingers to his lips, sticking his tongue out and wrapping it around them. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sucks his own fingers, completely losing it at the taste of your cum. 
Jay couldn’t wait anymore. The book was long pushed to the back of his mind. Not that he needed to read it anymore anyway, he knew exactly what to do. 
And no longer had the patience to wait. 
One moment you were pressed against your boyfriend, the next you were face first into the pillows, your hips hiked up and Jay’s legs spreading yours apart. Yessss, this was exactly what you wanted. What you’ve craved for since the moment he started touching you and reading out loud to him. 
“Yes, babe,” you moaned into the pillows, turning your head just enough to look at his face, seeing the look of pure lust and want on him. His eyes burn with the desire to tear you apart and leave nothing left once he’s done with you. And oh good fucking god you want him to destroy you, “Fuck me to pieces, oh god Jay please!” 
Oh was this music to his ears. Jay pressed his chest to your back, licking at the shell of your ear, his hand stroking himself slowly, “Yeah, YN? Do you want my cock that bad? Want me to split you open?” 
You nod fiercely, gripping at the bedsheets. Rough sex with Jay always left you unable to walk after, but with how he is right now, you knew you’d barely be able to survive this time. 
Not another second was wasted as he pushed his cock inside you. Both hands gripping your hips, fucking into you at a fast pace. You arch your back and press your ass as much as you could to him, his hip bones surely were going to leave bruises against your cheeks. Not that you cared, you welcomed any marks you received from him during sex. 
“Fuck! Jay!” you whine, knuckles turning white from your grip on the sheets. 
Jay knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not from the amount of grinding he did on your back earlier and at his quick pace right now. But he can’t help it. You feel so fucking good and he loves how well his cock slides in and out of your cunt from how wet you are for him. He needed to cum. Now. 
With a pull of your hair, your back is pressed to his chest. One hand slightly grips your neck while the other finds your clit again, “I’m fixing to cum, baby,” he breathes into your ear, sending chills down your body, “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me one more?” 
You try your best to answer verbally but settle for another nod, taking a deep breath in the best way you can with your airways being slightly constricted but it still has your cunt clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him perfectly. 
His tip kisses your cervix with each sloppy thrust and fingers aggressively circling your clit, the knot in your tummy ready to burst for the second time of the night. 
“J-Jay,” you manage to push out, “Cu-cum..I’m cumming.” 
Jay leans his head against yours, “Fuck me too, oh fuck me too baby girl.” 
Your second organism releases at the same time his cum fills you whole. His hips slapped against your ass to a halt, making sure every last drop of cum spilled into your cunt. Jay moans out your name, slightly tightening his fingers around your neck until he comes down from his high and pulls out. With a shift motion, he collects the mixture of both your cum onto his fingers, “Can’t waste this, can we, YN?” 
His fingers come into your vision and on instinct, you open your mouth wide and tongue hanging out, ready for the salty and sweet taste of his fingers and both your cum to fill your taste buds. And oh man does it have you reeling once the digits fill your mouth. Your lips close around him, tongue swirling around and between his fingers, sucking up every last drop. 
You pout once his fingers are removed, and pout even more when the cold air touches your back from his disappearance. 
You barely can drop to your knees and twist around to see the beautiful and sexy naked back half of your boyfriend standing at the bookshelf. 
“Jay?” you call for him, swallowing your spit to soothe your now dry mouth, “Are you looking for something?” 
He has a smirk on his face as he turns around, a new book in his hand, “This one has the nastiest fuck scene. You down for round two?” 
Not even waiting for your answer, you’re being pulled to the edge of the bed, Jay now kneeling in front of you, the open book being shoved into your hands. You glance down to see the first line, the male character starting off eating his wife's pussy. 
Jay spreads your shaking legs apart, leaving gentle love bites on your thigh, “Go ahead, YN. Read.”
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pellucid-constellations · 4 months ago
Text
Trial and Error
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: A little angst
a/n: Okay this has taken over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the previous little part here and part three here
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
“And what would happen then?” 
“I suppose then we would have to turn into giants, wouldn’t we?” 
“Giants. Really?” Melanie deadpanned as if she hadn’t just unraveled the most incoherent line of questioning you’d ever heard. Her new favorite game was “what if,” and you were apparently awful at it. 
“Well—” you began, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter and tapped your chin. “I guess we could just learn how to fly instead. That way we could go collect the, um… bunnies from the tops of the clouds.” 
“It’s cats, mommy, not bunnies. Why would a bunny be on a cloud?” 
“You are so right.” 
You pushed off the counter and continued restocking the shelves of the small apothecary that had employed you for the past few years. You had started out in Velaris working at a few small bars, but that hadn’t lasted long when they discovered you were pregnant. You had earned enough money to get a small apartment at that point, and you just so happened to find one above an apothecary owned by a rather wicked old woman. 
Lucky for you, she was a wicked old woman who no longer wanted to run her apothecary or deal with the space above it. So, you got a job and a place to live without many questions asked—a two-for-one miracle. 
“Maybe we could ask Nyx to take us up to the clouds,” Melanie pondered as she fiddled with a bundle of cloves by the register. 
“Who’s Nyx, sweetie?” you mindlessly asked. 
“A boy in my class. He has wings. He told me he can’t fly very high yet, but soon he’ll be able to.” 
You inhaled sharply through your nose. 
There were probably several boys in her class who had wings and were unrelated to the Illyrian man occupying your thoughts, right? 
You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know, Melanie. Maybe Nyx could take you, but I might be too big for him to bring me up to the clouds.” 
“Oh, good idea, mommy! Nyx’s daddy can fly too and he can bring you. Or he has two uncles that could.” Your daughter stuck two fingers in the air with pride. “I wish I had wings. Mommy, did my daddy have wings?” 
You shook your head and abandoned the box at your feet to brush your daughter’s hair back instead. Going to school had opened doors to many questions you had been dreading, and Melanie’s questions about her dad had been coming in waves. 
“Your daddy didn’t have wings,” you began, looping a finger around her red curls. “But he did have hair just like yours.” 
Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Did you love my daddy? Nyx drew a picture at school of his mommy and daddy and said they love each other very much. Like as much as you love me.” 
You fought back a sigh. Nyx was causing you a plethora of issues and you hadn’t even met the kid. “Sometimes families look different,” you explained, running your hands down to brush off the dust on Melanie’s clothes that she’d surely obtained from playing in the apothecary. “I didn’t love your daddy, but that’s just because I had so much love saved up for you.” 
“Hmm…I hope you can have someone to love like how Nyx’s mommy has his daddy,” Melanie said after a small pause. And then she swung off the counter and started trekking up the stairs to the apartment as if she hadn’t just aged ten years with her statement. 
You blinked at the space she left, baffled by your five-year-old’s abruptness. She had only been at school for a week and was making revelations about your life that even you struggled to come to terms with. You let out a small sound of disbelief and made to follow your daughter up the stairs when the bell above the front door chimed. 
“Sorry, we’re closed for the—”
A boot heel clicking silenced your call.
His shadows came in before him, dark swirls instantly sweeping along the walls and wrapping up around the front counter. They didn’t touch you, but there was a hesitance about them that suggested they wanted to. You tore your gaze from their behavior to meet the eyes of the Illyrian from the school—the one you hadn’t seen since and definitely not because you were avoiding all situations where he could spot you. 
“Hello,” Azriel greeted with a calmness that was not reciprocated. “Are you closed? I can come back another time.” 
Every thought tumbled out of your brain. You had forgotten—almost—how intimidating he was. Not just in sheer size, but in the way he held himself, in the sharp planes of his face that smoothed into softness in the exact places they should. 
His wings pressed in towards his back as he took another step forward. The floor groaned beneath his weight. 
“Oh, um—” you uttered along with the straining floor. “We are—technically. But I can help you find something. Or place an order for you. No big deal.” 
“I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re closed,” Azriel stressed. 
“No, no, it’s okay,” you nervously laughed. Act more normal. Act like there’s nothing… abnormal about you. “Anything for someone from Melanie’s school. What are you looking for?” 
Azriel hummed, his eyes lightning. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was wondering.” 
Was he looking at you strangely? Azriel kept trailing his gaze around the room and letting it land on your face, evaluating you… profiling you? 
You were being ridiculous. 
“Of course I do. You gave me great intel on the teacher. I don’t come until the bell rings now.” You rocked back on your heels and shifted your fidgeting hands behind your back. “Was there something specific I could help you with?” 
Azriel ignored your question for the second time. “Is that why I haven’t seen you? You come later?” 
Was he looking for you? 
A strange combination of excitement and trepidation made your stomach drop. 
Another nervous laugh. Your palms were sweating. “I guess so. There’s a lot to be done here so I usually wait until the last minute to close up shop and pick her up. That’s why your tip was so helpful.” 
Azriel narrowed his eyes in a way that echoed concern, but you refused to read into it. You balanced up onto your toes and fell back onto the soles of your feet. 
You could tell he wanted to say more about something—to ask more questions unrelated to the apothecary. But he stopped himself and the restraint was clear in the tenseness of his shoulders. 
“I get headaches,” Azriel shared. “Awful ones. I’ve tried healing magic and a few medicinal remedies, but I was hoping to find something herbal. Could you help me with that?” 
You breathed a sigh of relief and began rifling through a cabinet to your left. “I may have just the thing. I had terrible migraines when I was pregnant and it took me six tries to get this recipe perfect, but I think it would do the trick for you. I almost hate to share it because I was the one that had to suffer through all the bad batches, but I guess that’s kind of my job.” 
You pulled back from the cabinet with a small bottle in hand, a tiny rendition of your handwriting scrawled along the side. You rolled it in your hands for a moment until you saw the shimmering nature of the liquid inside, and then you held it out over the counter and offered Azriel a smile. He replicated it, but it was smaller and looked forced. 
“You didn’t have anyone else to try it out on?” he asked. 
The question twisted something deep within your chest, but you only grinned and ignored the tightness of your jaw. “Who better than the one with the migraines herself?” 
Azriel breathed a laugh through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “I suppose that’s true.” 
The flecks in his eyes had you paralyzed, unable to move as his gaze held yours. You were breathless, fist tightening around the small tonic still held out in front of you as Azriel reached forward and grabbed it. His skin brushed yours. You shivered. 
Azriel’s lips parted to speak. “Where are you—”
A loud thump from upstairs cut him off. 
Azriel started, his chin clipping up and his body tensing. He quickly looked back down to you with a panicked question in his eyes. 
You fought for the words to say. If you revealed it was only Melanie, he would know where you lived—another piece of information you liked to keep close. But if you didn’t tell him, that could lead to something worse. He looked about ready to bolt up the stairs and battle your five-year-old. 
The decision was made for you when Melanie came bounding down the steps with a bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other. 
“Mommy,” she began with a lax posture that did not match the room. “Can I—Oh, hi, Mr. Azriel. What’re you doing at my house?” 
Melanie’s interpretation of his name included an extra syllable, and she was still working on pronouncing Zs, but the Illyrian ignored that. “Your house?” he asked. His attention was fully on Melanie, but he sent you a raised brow. 
“Um, yes. We live above the apothecary. Melanie sometimes forgets that it’s a business downstairs and not just a private playground,” you explained, rubbing your forearm in discomfort. Azriel tracked the movement. 
“Ah, well, it does seem rather fun down here. I can see the confusion.” 
Melanie perked up, waving the spoon in front of your face. “See, mommy? There’s lots to play with.” 
One of the tightly bound coils in your chest loosened as you shot Azriel a look. “Great. You’re encouraging her.” 
“I’ve been an uncle for a few years,” Azriel smiled, rolling the headache tonic between his hands. “I’ve gotten quite good at encouraging terrible things.” 
You laughed with a huff and placed a hand on Melanie’s head, bending down to meet her gaze. “Were you going to ask me for dinner? I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I was just putting a few things away.” 
“I know, mommy,” she nodded. Then, after a quick look at Azriel from the corner of her eye, she whispered, “Is Mr. Azriel having dinner with us? Nyx has been asking about when we have dinner and said to keep the question a secret, but maybe that’s why he’s here.” 
A few feelings barraged you at once. Confusion over your daughter's words; fear that the night court’s inner circle seemed to be asking questions about you; regret that you had given into Melanie’s pleas to go to school so readily. 
But Nyx was just a child—perhaps he asked everyone when they had dinner and Melanie was just connecting dots that weren’t there. 
But maybe that wasn’t the case. 
Maybe Azriel came to the apothecary specifically because you worked there and he was trying to gather intel for the Autumn Court. It had to be common knowledge that the daughter of one of Beron’s men had run away. But Night and Autumn weren’t on the best terms. That’s why you chose Velaris to—
You couldn’t do this right now. 
Not in front of Melanie and certainly not in front of Azriel. 
You pressed your lips into a firm line and whispered back, “No, he came to buy something from mommy’s shop. It’s just us for dinner, like always.” 
A sliver of disappointment fractured Melanie’s gaze. She hooked her chin over her shoulder and sent Azriel a small smile before disappearing into the apartment once more. You wiped your palms on the front of your pants as you stood, taking a breath to calm your raging anxiety. 
“Sorry, she…” 
“It’s alright,” Azriel dismissed. You looked at him for the first time in a few moments, his expression pinched and difficult to read. “I’m around Nyx a lot. You don’t have to apologize.” 
A beat of silence. 
The room was cloaked in unrealized tension. You weren’t sure if it was fueled by suspicion or something else. For you, it was, but the wistful way Azriel continued to linger on your figure was read as something else. Something older, more entrenched.
“It’s just two coppers.” You broke the silence, gesturing to the tonic still held between Azriel’s fingers—his scarred fingers, you then realized. You looked back up to his face.
“Only two? After all it took for you to make it?” 
You felt your mouth twist at the corner despite yourself. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this place, but it’s not exactly up to par with the rest of the apothecaries. I’m surprised you found it, to be honest. My customers are typically ancient fae with boils and warts.” 
“Sorry to disappoint,” Azriel teased. He searched through his pocket and placed a small sum of money on the counter between you. “Five coppers—for interrupting dinner.” 
“I hadn’t even—” 
“Goodbye, y/n.” 
You watched him go, not noticing the shadow that lingered in the corner. 
part three
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benevolentbones · 5 months ago
Note
Hi ✨️✨️
Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.
your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader
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warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting
word count: 1.7k
a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3
half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.
emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.
“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.
“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.
“reid, you in?”
spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.
“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.
“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.
“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.
“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.
“but-“
“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”
spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.
“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.
“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.
emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.
“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.
everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.
“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.
she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”
“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.
“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.
spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.
“y/n!”
you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.
“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.
“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.
“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.
“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.
“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.
derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.
“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.
“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.
you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.
“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.
“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.
“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.
emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.
“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.
“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.
“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”
“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.
you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.
“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.
“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.
you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.
spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.
he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.
finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.
“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.
he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.
“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.
“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.
“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.
“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.
“a-and do you like being a bartender?”
you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.
“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.
“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.
“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.
“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.
“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.
you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”
“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.
your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.
“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.
“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.
you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.
“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.
“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.
you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.
“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.
“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.
your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.
“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid
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dalamjisung · 4 months ago
Text
A muted shade of green ✧ Spencer Reid
genre: fluff, light angst
word count: 6339
pairing: reader x spencer reid
description: Dr. Spencer Reid is simply adorable. And you actually think he might be perfect. Until, that is, he isn't.
a muted shade of green masterlist // next chapter
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His apartment is a muted shade of green and you always wonder why is it that he painted it so dark. The book covered walls never fail to impress you, making you smile into the ether that was this place with its shelves and shelves of worldly stories. His taste, you think, is more towards the classics and refined tales that carry significance and importance in the world of literature. Dostoyevski, Austen, Orwell, Doyle. Though here and there, in some corners of the living room or thrown haphazardly in the kitchen counter, you see peeks of contemporary names, the ones you’re sure you sold him a long, long time ago. Murakami, Zadie Smith, George. 
You met Spencer when you first moved into D.C., about a year or so ago, and sometimes, you really think that it was just yesterday when you first saw him with his purple scarf walking inside your store.
“Excuse me.” 
You have too many books in your arms to even see who is talking to you, but you apologise nonetheless; it’s the least you can do for your first customer. “I’ll be with you in a moment, apologies for the mess, we literally just opened.” In your defence, you had been so busy unpacking all the new orders and organising things into shelves that you absolutely forgot to put the plaque with your opening hours by the door. You can hear his shoes clicking and clacking around the place, and a wave of anxiety washes through you. If he leaves with a book– luckily two– you will have made your first sell and that just might remind you that of the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.
Carefully putting the pile of Maggie Nelson’s on the counter, you finally turn to face him, tired smile from ear to ear when you see him holding two books already. “You found something you like?” You gently ask, voice calm and fingers fidgeting while you wait for an answer. “Many things, actually. I’m quite glad to see a wide variety of books here, it’s been hard finding something new to read lately.” 
His voice is pointed and it echoes in the empty store. The clock on the walls says it’s 7:58AM and you suck in a breath; it’s definitely too early for someone to be looking for books, but maybe he wants entertainment for his commute, maybe he needs a distraction for the way, or maybe he is odd like that. 
It must be cold outside. The man is wearing a purple scarf  inside what looks like a wool coat, and somehow, he fits in there, in your store. He looks like the kind of person who would be buying books as early as 8 in the morning and you’re not sure if that is adorable or unhinged. 
“Just these, thank you,” The loud thump of the pile of books he deposits by the cashier makes you gasp. “You have a great selection here, I was lucky you open early!” The twinkle in his eyes is what keeps you from telling him that that, in fact, was a big mistake. In the middle of rushing to get the keys from the landlord in time, get the deliveries, get everything sorted and organised, you had completely forgotten to put out the hours for the shop. 
“I am glad you found us here! Do you live nearby?” At this point, you’re just trying to make conversation as you bagged his items, smiling at the titles and happy to see your favourite book in the midst. “I live just across the street, actually,” He said, giving you his card. “You’ll see me a lot, I’m afraid.”
“And what should I call my most loyal customer, then?” One look down at his card and you would know, but you wanted him to tell you himself. 
“Spencer Reid.”
There is not really a sound reason as to why you walk so freely into his apartment. The first time he asked you to do this, he was going on a case and needed someone to water his plants. As it turn out, your store is quite literally across the street from his building and you don’t really mind the mindless task, so you tell him to not worry, you’ll take care of it. It had been a few months since you two met, five or so, and despite taking you some time to truly understand, you got used to the fact that Spencer created a routine for both of you, knocking on your shop’s door every Monday at precisely 8 in the morning. With time, you stopped questioning him even when you had many, many questions– was he even reading all these books? If yes, how?! Every visit, he left with three books or more, and unless he pulled all nighters every night, those were simply sitting on his desk. 
Instead, you start putting a few titles aside whenever you spot them. You start it with ‘A Gentleman From Peru’ by André Aciman, short and sweet. Next week it was ‘A Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George. Then ‘Cultish’ by Amanda Montell. And just like this, you two form your own little book club, his visits extending beyond their usual thirty minutes into the better part of the hour to talk about the plot, the characters, the arcs. You know there is quite a lot you don’t know about Spencer, of course there is, but you learn more and more with every little debate you two have. You learn about his morals through the character he likes, and his dreams through the plots he enjoy. You learn about his photographic memory that allows him to quote his favourite sections to you, and you learn that he is a very logical man through his hatred for the inaccuracy of investigative books. You learn and you learn and you learn and you find out that you like learning about Spencer. More than you like learning about anyone else, that is, and now, every time he walks in, you can’t help but get excited, smiling as you only imagine what you would learn that day. 
Sometimes, you did notice the absence of your favourite customer. He would disappear for weeks on end and then act like nothing happened, and you get it; he doesn’t owe you anything, you’re just the lady that sells him books, but you feel like there is something that is starting to bloom when, every time he comes back, he brings you a book. “I thought you’d like it,” Is all he says before leaving with his bag of new reads. For a moment, it’s like an exchange, but Spencer never demands anything of you; never asks for anything more than new books and recommendations. 
It’s quite rewarding finding the books you sold him scattered through the apartment. There are a couple in the kitchen, open split on the counter and you smile fondly at the clumsy way he marks his books. There is no folded page, no book marker, no random picture; just his book, cover facing up, open and splitting the spine in half enough to crease. You shake your head, smiling like he’s done this just to rile you up.
“Oh my god, don’t!”
You don’t mean to shout but it’s too late. His eyes widen in shock and he immediately freezes, mouth stuck in a little ‘o’ shape that makes you blush. “What did I do?” 
The wince in your expression is as visible as the light of day when you speak. Your hands hover in the air, unsure of what to do now, but still trying to do something. “The book, Spencer,” The words come out like a whine, and if you start stomping your feet you might as well look like a child. “The spine. The book. The– oh my god, the noise!”
The way he laughs at you is contagious, and you start laughing with him, face hidden behind your hands in embarrassment. Owning a bookshop doesn’t come for free. Your particularities when it comes to your literary treasures are enough to scare any sane person away. “You know, there are worse sounds than a book’s spine breaking,” He mused, closing the book before walking to your counter. His nimble fingers drum a soft rhythm as he waits for you to go around and charge him for the book. It’s a symphony, almost; so loud in your quiet store that, for a second, your heart is tuning in, thumping as his fingers do, beating to the song he creates. 
“You don’t have to buy it,” It’s a little ridiculous how airy your voice sounds then. Aren’t you a little too old to have a crush? “It’s okay if–“ But he doesn’t even let you finish, rattling off some facts about the writer. Most of the time, actually, he is rattling off some fact about something, and some you know, some you don’t, but you never interrupt him. You like hearing him talk. 
You miss hearing him talk. Whenever Spencer leaves, you miss him. You miss the knock on your shop’s door at 8AM. You miss the shy little chuckles. You miss the purple– the constant, always there purple. A wave of sadness hits you then, looking around the apartment with a longing expression. 
The first time he calls you over, it’s not really an invitation. A week before it happens, he doesn’t show up for your Tuesday unboxing and you have to carry all the new orders inside by yourself. It takes double the time and despite the effort it takes you, it’s the absence of his coy chuckles and snarky commentary that leaves you breathless. When you open the boxes, checking inventory to make sure there had been no issues with your order, you find the book Spencer asked you to get him. It’s one of those special books, so old and unique that you could only get your hands on it because you had contacts in the space. “Huh,” You frown at that– it isn’t like Spencer to forget something. Hell, it isn’t like Spencer to forget anything. Before you can cower away from doing it, you send him a text. You have his number saved in the system, and this feels wrong, it really does. Using his personal information that he gave to you as a client felt wrong. But for a second, it makes you stop biting your nails in anxiety. 
Your book is here. 
It’s Y/N, by the way. 
He doesn’t answer right away and you wallow in your regret for as long as you can. Your shoulders hunch forward as you line up the new arrivals in the shelves. Your frown sits on your forehead all day while you help other passing customers. Your hands brush against the book, all ready and wrapped up and sitting on top of the counter. You hate waiting; you hate waiting for someone or for something to happen as if you’re praying for a miracle. Literature has taught you many lessons in life. It has shown you countless of love stories that could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation. It has told you about people that waited and waited and waited until time passed them away. It has taught you that waiting is simply delaying the inevitable. 
But what literature has not taught you is that, sometimes, waiting truly is all you can do. 
That day, you don’t get a message back. 
You get a call instead. 
“Y/N?” The familiar voice on the other side speaks before you can and your shoulders tense up. Something is wrong. He sounds hoarser than usual, airier, too. 
“Spencer,” You say back, clearing your throat of any remnants or indicators of how nervous you are. “Spencer, are you okay? You sound rough.”
Even his laugh sounds weak and a zap of worry rushes through you. “I’m fine,” He mumbles, and you know he’s saying it out of politeness. “I just got sick. I think I have a cold, it’s nothing much, really.”
The relief that washed over you in crashing waves is almost embarrassing. Even though he is not there to witness it, your face still flushes in a dramatic red. “Oh. I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you–“
“It’s not a bother,” The way his voice interrupts you, so strong and concise, makes you chuckle. “You’re not a bother. I uh, I’m glad to hear my book arrived.”
For a moment, you both stay quiet. You, on your end of the line, are nodding like he can see you. Except he can’t. Except he is waiting, probably, for you to say something. Do something. “I can bring it to you. If you want.”
This time, there is no pause. “Yes. I mean, yes, please. I– I don’t have anything new to read and–” Spencer pauses to cough and you start moving immediately. There is no one in the store and you quickly change the sign to ‘closed’, grabbing his book and your bag before locking the door behind you. There is a pharmacy at the end of the block and you keep your cellphone balanced between your shoulder and ear while your hands make sure you have your wallet with you. “Sorry.”
“No problem at all,” You cross the street in such a hurry that you don’t notice the traffic, getting a symphony of horns calling you out as you run to the other side of the street. “Shit…”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” You tease, laughing a little and entering the pharmacy with purpose. “So just a cold, right?”
“Y/N, where are you?”
“Out,” There is no need to be vague, but you don’t want to give him a chance to protest. “I should be at yours in fifteen minutes with the book.”
“Just the book?” He asks in such a suspicious tone that you can’t hold back a laugher. 
“What else?” Thank god for automatic cashiers speeding up this entire process. You are in an out in less than five minutes and before he can even answer, you are almost at his door. Admittedly, you are speed walking, almost running, in a futile attempt to get there sooner. “Which apartment do I buzz?”
“Apartment 23.” And that is the end of the call. 
By the time you make it to his floor, panting just as you hike the last step upwards, he is already waiting for you, and you can’t say you’re terribly bothered to have a man like Spencer Reid waiting for you by the door. “Spencer,” You still admonish, a small smile playing on your lips. “You shouldn’t be out and about like this.” 
“Then who would let you in?” The mischief in his expression, much like that of a child making an innocent joke, makes you giggle, nodding in agreement. “Do you want to come inside? I promise everything is clean, I’m not a slob or anything.”
“Yeah, let me come in so I can give you your stuff.” 
“I knew it wasn’t just the book,” The coughing fit that followed has you rushing your hands, pulling things out of your bag in a desperate attempt to get him the medicine you bought. This had always been your curse, the flustering anxiety of wanting to help but being unable to take your time. Shaky hands push the book towards him, with the medication and some old receipts stuck to it. 
“Oh shit, sorry!” You squeak, grabbing the receipts and shoving it back in your bag. One of these days, you’d have to close the store early to clean this thing. “But uh, yeah, I got you some cold medicine and your book. I’m sure you know this with your big brain and all, but you need to take this before bed, cause it makes you drowsy, and this other one in the morning since it has caffeine! And you should be good in no time… hopefully!”
In life, a pause is not always a bad thing. It’s a time to think. A time to appreciate, to enjoy. It’s a time to be. A pause, however, from the man whose brain worked a thousand miles an hour, doesn’t feel like something to be thankful for. “Is… Do you not like that brand? I didn’t want to get the generic thing, I don’t know why, I–“
“Thank you.”
At first, you barely hear it. For someone whose voice is so rough and hoarse, you’re surprised he can still sound so smooth and airy. Your reaction is obvious; he can see the blush in your cheeks and the way you bite back a smile. “Y/N, thank you, I really appreciate it,” He says it again and now you think he just wants to get a rise of you. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” You shrug, faking humbleness while you keen at his praise. “I wanted to.”
“I know.” 
There is a dance that happens after that, one that you find yourself enjoying quite a bit. Spencer is more present than ever, and you’re getting used to having him around. It’s like you two broke the glass wall the kept you at a safe distance, and now is when you two discover each other a bit better. Like how you find out that, when Spencer’s hand lays on the cashier counter, just an inch or less away from yours, you feel the heath that it emanates. Like how your fingers curl and your palms itch at the sight of his shaggy curls falling on top of his beautiful eyes. Like how his laughter is deep when it’s true and dry when it’s forced. Like how he can read 20,000 words per minute, but he chooses to read 183 instead just so he can read you passages out loud.
You are not sure what he has learned about you, or if he even cares to learn something about you, but the thought still makes you smile. “What’s gotten you so smiley so early in the morning?” 
Ah, yes; another thing you’ve learned about Spencer Reid– he is as quiet as mouse when he wants, and as loud as an elephant when he doesn’t. “My god!” You jump, hand immediately going to your heart to try and keep it from beating our of your chest from the shock. “Spence! You scared me!”
“I’m so sorry,” He laughs, raising his hands in the air, shaking the two cups of coffee he is holding. “I come in peace.”
“And with bribery, I like your style.” 
His style doesn’t change, still haven’t. For ages, you think he buys you coffee at the nearby cafe. You don’t really know the name of the place, some cliche Cafe something something, but the one time you’ve been in there the coffee was terrible and the music too loud. It’s hard picturing your shy, smiley book-lover in there, trying to order something without raising his voice. It’s only when you see the go-to paper cups on his counter, on the fourth or fifth time you come around, that you realise Spencer has never gone to that cafe to begin with. 
The cups are still there. You make a point in spotting them every time you come over– next to the microwave, close to the paper towels. The reminder that this man has, in fact, been making you coffee most mornings validates the fluttery feeling you have whenever you think of it. It makes it somewhat logical. “I must be spending too much time with him,” You mumble to yourself, pushing your sleeves up and getting to work. You are there for a reason, and if those wilting plants die on you, you fear that you might just never be invited back. “Why does he even have plants?” 
You don’t know much about Spencer’s job. He hasn’t told you anything about it except that he travels a lot for it, but you can imagine it is something of importance– a man like Spencer was someone of importance, after all. In your mind, you can imagine him walking into an office down by the Financial District, working with big corporations as an advisor. Yes, you can absolutely see him as some sort of advisor or consultant, but something about him working in finances doesn’t sit right with you– he is yet to talk to you about crypto investments and how to better implement a payment system into the store. Shaking your head, you switch it up. Financial services, aren’t quite right, but maybe an editor, working in a publishing house. With the way he devours books and how well-rounded his personal library was, you could see him as a Publishing Director instead, reading manuscript after manuscript. 
The thought of him reading brings a smile to your face. In his living room, there is an armchair that sits next to the large window on the west wall of his apartment– he says he likes how the sunset hits and makes the pages look warm and golden, turning words into a burning fire of knowledge– and you can practically see him there, blanket over his legs, books and books pilled next to it. It’s your own little secret, how every time you come over, you grab a book, any book, and you sit there for thirty minutes, forty, fifty, an hour; until the sun has completely set and you have to get up to turn the lights on. 
Today, when you sit down, when you bring your knees up, when you drape the blanket over you, something feels incredibly right and incredibly wrong. On the pile of books next to you, right at the top, lays a copy of Gulliver’s Travels. If you remember correctly, which you usually do, last time you sat down at that spot you managed to read up to chapter five before the sun was gone. When you grab the book and you see the bookmark you gave Spencer the second time he visited the store, and you frown– usually, he’d pick up from where you left off. “How long has it been since you last came home, Spencer?” You muttered out loud, grabbing the book regardless. Because even when it breaks your heart to know something has been keeping him away from his precious nook, it fuels your heart to know he leaves your book where you can easily pick it up. To know he doesn’t mind you sitting on his armchair, to know he doesn’t mind you reading his books, to know he doesn’t mind you settling, somehow, in his house. 
A knock on his door, however, breaks you away from your precious moment of rest and relaxation. For a moment, you can’t move, frozen in place light a kid that has been caught doing something wrong. It’s only when they knock again that you move, shuffling to the door to look through the peephole. “Who is it?” You ask, voice weak and shaky. 
“I have a delivery for Spencer Reid.”
How silly you feel in that moment, hand over your heart as you take a deep breath in relief. Unlocking the door, you smile to the USPS guy. “Sorry, he isn’t home right now. I can take it for him.” All you have to do is sign it and close the door, but once you put the package on the counter and your eyes catch sight of a note scribbled on top of the box, all those butterflies inside of you slow down. And find perch. And for a second, make you miss them just like you miss him. 
The first time you think Spencer might have a girlfriend is when he comes into the store with a certain look in his face. He is practically glowing and his eyes don’t leave his phone for a second. “What has you smiling like that?” You two are close enough to ask these kind of things now, making jokes about each other as if you have been friends for ages. “Or uh, who?” Even though you started the conversation, you want to end it now. There is a sour aftertaste in your mouth when you suggest another person to be cause of his happiness, and you know, right there and then, that that is just your jealousy speaking. At this point, you’ve been harbouring a crush on Spencer for the almost two months and there’s only so much a girl can take before exploding. 
“Oh, it’s just a friend.” Somehow, this answer doesn’t settle you as much as you hoped it would. 
The second time is when he brings a woman around. She is blonde, and loud, and colourful, and you eye her carefully. They are matching costumes, and for a second, without even saying, you already feel left out. It’s stupid, being this green over someone so pink. If Spencer was purple, and if you are green, than that woman was pink– she is happy and light and exciting. Next to her, you… well, you are as muted as his green walls. “Y/N!” He calls for you with such a big smile and you just don’t have it in you to pretend to be busy anymore. 
“Hey Spencer,” It comes out quiet and a bit distant, but he doesn’t seem to notice, not with the way he is going back and forth on the ball of his heels. “And hello, ma’am. Welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the owner. Please let me know if you need any help.”
That day, you two barely talk, but that’s okay, because Penelope, as she introduced herself to you after you help her find a specific book on coding, speaks for both of you. She says that it’s lovely to finally meet you, and mentions how much she has heard about you, and you think this is a very cruel thing to do to your poor, squeezing heart. But you push through. You pretend you’re tired, you apologise for the distance, and you lie about a cough. It’s better if they stay away, you say, but Spencer doesn’t buy it. Instead, he buys Penelope her book and leaves with promises of coming back the next day with your usual coffee. 
After that, you don’t see Spencer for two weeks.
It’s a bittersweet feeling when you get the text that he is back. After almost a week and a half without seeing him, you miss Spencer. He created a space for himself in your life and in your store, and when he is gone, it’s just not the same. But just like how he did, you created a space for yourself in his apartment. Suddenly, the muted green walls aren’t claustrophobic or smothering, but comforting. They are safe. Familiar. They are Spencer. And just like you said, you miss Spencer.
“Y/N!” 
You should be happier to hear his voice, but it’s not the same. The fluttering in your stomach is still there, like a slow buzz trying to come alive, but it’s not the same. Not when the note on the box, flashing like neon signs behind your close lids, has been tormenting you and your poor heart ever since you made the mistake of opening the door. “Y/N? Are you here? The door says open…” At one point or another, you have to come out of hiding and face him. Delaying the moment, though, is the best defence plan you’re able to come up with– if you look into Spencer’s eyes, if you see that pretty smile he has every time he comes back from a work trip… you’re fucked. 
“Y/N, I need you to tell me if you’re here!” It’s not the same. 
His voice. It’s not the same.
Usually mellow and undulating, Spencer sounds stiff, like he’s holding something back. Something new. Something… heavy. There is an edge to him right now, so sharp and cutting that it has you stepping out from behind the Science shelf in pure curiosity. And just like people say, curiosity killed the cat. In this case, however, it almost kills you. 
When you turn the corner to find him by the door, the first thing you see is a man. He is tall and handsome and oddly serious. The way his brows are pulled together make you falter, steps slowing down and mouth opening to ask if he needs help.
That’s when you see it. 
More like you catch a quick glimpse of it, the shinning spark of metal to your side, and you do a double take. You have to do a double take. It’s like your brain doesn’t believe what you’re seeing, and you move your head so fast you feel your neck tensing up in that way that makes your eyes water. “WHAT THE FU– OH MY GOD!” There is no way to throw yourself against a wall graciously, arms over your head and fear written all over face. You land in an awkward angle and your shoulder takes the brunt of the shock, making you gasp in pain while your legs give our under you. 
Of all the ways you’ve imagined Spencer, him holding a gun up to your head was never one of them. “Y/N!”
“Oh my god!” You think you might pass out– you’re breathing too fast and your chest is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing to the point of physical pain. There is a ringing in your ears, muffling the entire conversation between Spencer and the other man and even though you try, you can’t look up; you’re frozen in a state of distress. For the first time since you met him, you’re scared of Spencer Reid. “I– I– Oh my god, I c-can’t– I can’t b-breathe, I can’t–“
“Y/N, look at me! Look at me, you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” The moment his hand touches your shoulder, you’re shrinking away. 
“Who are you?!” You manage to gasp enough air into your lungs to scream at him. One shake hand moves to the back of your neck, pressing down on the sore nape as you finally move to look at him, crying and all. “Spencer, who are you? Who is he? What is happening? Why do you have a gun in my bookshop, why–“
“Ma’am, I need you to take deep breaths,” The other man quickly holsters his gun and you actually think you might be going insane when flashes you a badge. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer. We are with the FBI.”
Federal Bureau of Investigation. Spencer is a fed. And he never told you. 
“The FBI…?” You whisper, eyes going wide and breath hiccuped in your throat. “S-Spencer, you work for the FBI?” Nothing about this makes sense to you. The gun, forgotten in his left hand and now pointing down and away from you, is all you can look at. The gun that looked heavy and cold. The gun that those hands hold– the same hands you’ve wished and, admittedly, dreamed of holding yours instead. The gun, the gun, the gun.
The gun. You’ve never seen a gun before, not this close. In museums, of course, and in movies and shows, but never in real life. You don’t have interest in it either, having voted, without fail, for anti-gun laws and representatives. Anything and everything about this, about seeing him with that deadly weapon, feels wrong, and you really think you might be sick soon.
“Kid, put it away, you’re freaking her out.” 
Then is when you catch sight of the Spencer you know. It’s the clumsy actions, looking almost freaked out himself– his hands fumble with the holster and it takes him a couple of tries to fit the gun properly. That’s when you know for sure– you are going to be sick. “Trash,” You mumble, trying to get up but falling again and again. “Trash, pass me the–“ But there is no time and you throw up right there and then, between the cashier and the nonfiction section. 
“What just happened?” 
“Morgan, get her some water– there, over the counter,” The rapid successions of words make you feel a bit better, a cadence of tone and rhythm that has your hands finally stabilising. “Y/N, you’re in shock. Adrenaline kicked in and left, and you pressured crashed, which is what made you nauseous. You need water, and to come sit by the counter.”
It’s funny, how in any other circumstance, you’d be ashamed and embarrassed to have gotten ill in front of him. As far as you know, Spencer is a germaphobe and this surely counts as germs. But as he grabs your hands, gentler than you’ve ever seen him grab any book in your store, and brings you to your chair behind the counter, you wonder if he forgot or simply doesn’t care. Both options don’t make sense. “Spence, what is going on?” Your voice comes out winey and rough, and there is no way to hold back the pained wince when you feel the sting spreading through your throat. Sip by sip, you try your best to drink the water and soothe yourself, but nothing seems to help. 
Nothing until you hear him next to you, small and quiet and, dare you say, meek. “I’m sorry.”
As much as you’d like to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, he does. “I see…”
“It was just… it was new, having someone not know I’m FBI,” His thumbs play with each other and you’ve known him long enough to recognise that Spencer is nervous. “And we started getting closer and I just didn’t find an opportunity to tell you.”
“There were plenty,” You clarify, feeling a bit of a bitch for the bite in your voice making him gulp. “But it’s okay. I’m not… I’m not anything of yours, I guess, so it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Don’t say that. You’re my friend.” That hurt.
“Do you point a gun at all your friends or am I just special, Spence?” It is supposed to be a joke, but the memory makes your bottom lip start wobbling again and you feel stupid. You feel so, so incredibly stupid right now that you can’t even begin to explain why. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m not okay.”
“I know, and we’re sorry,” There is such raw honesty in his words and he manages to make you smile a little. Your hand is still shaking, but you stretch it out towards him regardless. It’s a conscious decision to hold onto his wrist, covered by his jacket, than to reach out for his palm, and from the way he looks at you, you know he recognises the effort. “But you need to come with us.”
“Why?” You cry out, a single tear coming out of the corner of your eye. At this point, the shock is going away and you’re more overwhelmed than anything else. You’re scared and confused and overwhelmed and it’s his pulse, beating again and again, that brings you back to Earth. “Why do I need to go with you? What is going on?”
“Y/N, when you were housesitting for me, you received a package, right?”
In the midst of everything, the memory of that day, that box, that note, all fade. Frowning, you shrugged. “The delivery man knocked and said he had a package for you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I–“
“No, no, no, you didn’t, you didn’t. Please.”
“Ma’am, when you signed for the package, did you use your name?” The man, Morgan, ask, and all you do is nod. Of course you signed with your name. “Kid, we need to take her to the office now.”
“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!”
Finally, some energy in you. Some strength. Your voice echoes in the empty shop, and the chair tips back when you stand up on stiff legs. Looking at Spencer is hard, when you feel the burning of your rage inside, but you still do; you still meet those pretty brown eyes, you still stare him down until you practically force the answers off of him. “The package… did you see who it was from?” 
“Spencer, are you insinuating you’ve pointed a gun at me because I read a message your girlfriend wrote on the package she sent you?! Because I didn’t mean to– I didn’t! It just… It was there, right at the top and I–“
“She is not my girlfriend,” He immediately cut you off, hands waving in front of him in a visual demonstration of desperate denial. “Not at all! I don’t have a girlfriend! I was–“
“We can deal with this later,” Morgan is quick to interrupt, sighing as he looked at you. “Y/N, we re really sorry to disrupt you like this, but this is for your own protection. Please lock the store and let’s go.”
It takes time for you to gather everything you need. You are not a disorganised person by any means, but suddenly, you can’t remember where you put what. Your bag is thrown under the cashier, and your keys are, for some reason, in the Fiction shelf. Your glasses are in your head the entire time, and Morgan has to point that out to you. The more you look, the more flustered you get, yet somehow, you make it to the car. Morgan is driving and Spencer is on the passenger seat, and the way they keep talking to each other using words that make no sense to you make you want to scream. “Spencer.”
The heaviness of his name, said with such emotion,, lingered in the air. His eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror, and he nods. “Yeah?"
“Spencer,” You whisper again, eyes wide in shock as reality starts to dawn. “Spencer, if she’s not your girlfriend, then who the fuck is Cat Adams?”
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AAAAAhhhhh I'm trying something new >.< I've been a massive criminal minds fan for a long, long time and Dr. Spencer Reid has my heart <3
Please let me know what you think, this is my first Spencer fic and I'd love if it got to turn into a series!
1K notes · View notes
ohsc · 5 months ago
Note
Could you write an older Dean and younger reader? Such as late thirties/early forties Dean and a mid twenties reader. Maybe the reader is inexperienced, and Dean coaches them through it?
help you.
dean winchester x fem!reader, 1.9k, nfsw 18+, grinding, p in v, riding, kinda dirty talk, older!dean, inexperienced!reader, kinda unedited — requests are open
Dean’s been to heaven, but it didn’t compare to the bliss of having her in his lap.
He’s had her beneath him — in bed, in the Impala, in a few motel rooms — had her against the shower wall, and more recently at the result of his own impatience, against the library shelves. But, for some reason, he hadn’t had her in his lap before.
It was bliss.
Her breath was hot as she panted into his open mouth, and she was so warm, bare thighs against his own, hot palms that pressed down atop his own bare chest. The only clothing between them was their underwear, and Dean had struggled with the decision of whether he wanted to keep seeing her pretty bra on her or take it off for far too long.
His fingers dug into her hips and grinded her against his lap, and it was the noise he managed to pull from her throat that made the decision up for him. He wanted to pull as many sounds from her as he could, and that meant needing to get the garment off.
One of his hands stayed curled around the dip of her hip bone, whilst his other flattened against her smooth skin and moved upwards until he reached her shoulder, and he hooked his thumb beneath her bra strap, tugged it back just enough to snap it back against her skin, and a low chuckle escaped him when she jumped and pulled back slightly.
“What was that for?” Her mumbled words were a little too whiny for his cock not to throb.
“Just teasing’ you, baby,” he kissed her pout briefly. “You look so pretty, all worked up for me.”
She was such a sight. The fact that she was in his lap alone would’ve been enough to get him worked up, but she was so fucking gorgeous. Her lips were red and kiss-bitten, cheeks all flushed pink. Her makeup was a little ruined in such a way that drove him fucking crazy; lipgloss smudged — the same lipgloss he could taste in his own mouth — glitter that was supposed to be on her eyelids made her cheeks sparkle, black smudges of mascara beneath her eyes. She looked a little wrecked, and he hadn’t really touched her yet.
He reached behind her to unclasp her bra with practiced expertise before he slid the straps down and pulled it from her, groaned deep in his throat when her breasts were on view.
As Dean kissed her again, a bit wet and a bit lazy as he sucked on her bottom lip, his hand slid up from her hip and he cupped one of her breasts, gently squeezed the warm soft flesh in his palm before he thumbed at her nipple until he felt it harden breath his touch, and the breathy noises that were pushed into his mouth from her throat were gorgeous.
Dean had fucked her enough times to know what would pull certain reactions for her. He wasn’t sure she’d had much experience before him, and… Dean knew how it looked. He was getting on a bit, in his mid-thirties, and he had almost ten years on her.
(He had threatened to hit Sam with his car the moment a joking “sugar daddy” had passed his brothers lips.)
Naturally, she wasn’t as experienced as him, he knew that without having to be told. But the first time they’d fucked, and she questioned why he was spending so much time focused on making her feel good, just told him all he needed to know.
She’d only ever hooked up with shitty guys who just wanted to get off.
Admittedly, Dean had been that guy in the past. But the sight of her cumming was otherworldly. He wanted to see it again, and again, and again.
Dean grinded her against him once more and she moaned, her hot cheek pressed against his when her head tipped forwards as she panted softly.
“God, you sound fucking perfect,” he grunted, and he was so painfully hard and her panties were so fucking soaked that he knew neither of them wanted to wait anymore. “Want you to keep making those pretty noises for me.”
His hands dipped down enough to slide his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, and he shimmied them down just enough to pull his cock out, but just as he reached for her underwear, she leaned back and went to move.
“Hey,” he gripped her hips and tugged her back where she was. “Where’re you goin’?”
She blinked at him, took a heaving breath. “You want me here?”
Dean chuckled and gave her hips another squeeze. “Kinda missing the point of what we’re doing if you think I don't want you here, babe.”
“No, I-” she took a breath. “Here like this,” she gestured down towards his lap, and Dean just blinked at her until she huffed out and clarified, “I’ve never… done it like this before.”
Dean softened just slightly. He remembered the first time they’d had sex, how nervous she’d been about not being enough for him, about not being able to get him off. She’d ended up being the best sex of his fucking life, and there was nothing he wanted more in that moment then to have her in his lap, coming apart on his cock.
“Aw, doll,” he tipped forwards and kissed her softly, squeezed her hips until she properly settled her weight back down into his lap again. “That’s alright, doesn’t matter if you haven’t done it before.”
She huffed a breath against his lips, cheeks flushed pink, and she looked partly embarrassed and partly turned on. “M’not gonna do it right.” The words were mumbled into his mouth, soft and almost whiney.
“Yeah you are, sweetheart,” he kissed her once more before he leaned back to get a good look at her expression, her pretty face. “I’ll help you.”
She was breathing heavy, and still looked a little nervous, but nodded her head, palms flat against his chest. He’d never get over the sight of her when she got like this — flushed, blissed out, turned on. God, he could just drink her up, savour the way she looked right then, keep it bottled up for whenever he wanted it.
Dean reached down to the apex of her thighs, brushed his fingertips along the damp fabric, and he watched as she shuddered, her eyes shut.
“Fuck doll,” he groaned, rubbed her through the fabric just until she made a little noise and then he hooked his fingers underneath the wet fabric and pulled it to the side, too lazy to take them off of her completely. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. Sit up for me, c’mon,” Dean squeezed her hips until she lifted them, and he held her underwear to the side with one hand, his other pumped his cock a few times before he lined his head up with her wet hole, clenched his jaw.
“That’s it- that’s it-” Dean groaned as she sank herself down onto him, squeezed her hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises until he was completely inside of her, and he felt so much deeper at that position.
She was all heavy breaths and sighs, her fingers clung to his shoulders as she sank herself down in his lap. Her head had tipped forwards and her forehead pressed to his cheek, hot skin to hot skin, her breaths fanned out against his throat. “Dean-”
“I know- fuck,” Dean grunted as he shifted her hips and felt her clench around him. “I know, baby, good girl.”
He gripped her hips and helped her move, and with every drag of his cock against her tight walls, it was blissful. She was panting into his open mouth, hands gripped him tightly, and he could tell that despite her earlier concerns, she felt good.
“How’s that, doll?” The words were mumbled into her ear as he sank her back down onto his cock, and her resulting moan was muffled against the skin of his throat, her fingers gripped onto him tighter.
“Good-” She gasped. “It’s- oh-”
Dean smirked into her hair, grunted as she sank back down on him again, felt the cling of her wet heat around his cock. “It’s what, baby?” He kissed the shell of her ear. “Use your words, c’mon.”
She whimpered at the next drag of his cock. “It’s… feels so good-”
“That’s good, sweetheart,” Dean sacrificed one of the hands on her hips to slide up her back and he tangled his fingers in her hair, gave it a playful tug until she tipped her head back to look at him, and fuck the look on her face. Flushed pink, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in little sighs and gasps that threatened to make him cum there and then. “You look so fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” He lifted his hips and thrusted up into her and she groaned as her nails dug into his shoulders. “So gorgeous-” he grunted. “Makin’ a mess all over me- fuck-”
It was her that initiated the kiss, then, her mouth moved messily and desperate against his until the kiss became wet and lazy and fucking heavenly. His fingers tightened only slightly in her hair, only to keep her angled properly for the kiss, and he kept moving her hips and thrusting up into her, felt as her slickened walls squeezed and clenched his cock as it throbbed with a desire he’d only ever felt for her.
Their mouths were still attached when she came without warning, and he felt more than heard the groan that escaped her and into his mouth, felt as she pulsed around him, and it was just enough to drag his orgasm out of him too.
Dean groaned, let go of her hair to grip her hips and pulled her tight down against him until he was buried to the fucking hilt, and he didn’t let go until he was completely fucking drained.
“Oh god, sweetheart,” he was panting when he finally eased his grip on her hips, and dropped a plethora of wet kisses to her hot cheek before he leaned back to look at her face. “Look at you.”
She was a fucking picture as she sat in his lap, still filled up completely, as she panted and blushed and gave him that fucking smile, the shy smile that wasn’t so fucking shy after what they’d done.
Her eyes dipped down and she took a shuddering breath inwards as she leaned forwards and softly kissed his neck. “Was that… did I do okay?”
“Did you do okay?” Dean chuckled and lifted his hand to cup her jaw, and when he tipped her head back up towards him he leaned forwards and kissed her in a much gentler way than he had before. “That was perfect. You’re a fuckin’ gem, y’know that?”
She just giggled, kissed him again, and wrapped her arms around his neck, their bodies hot against each other.
And then, her soft voice mumbled, far from completely satisfied, “…can I try again?”
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23victoria · 5 months ago
Text
Jealousy, Jealousy
f1 grid x fem!reader
wc: 2.1k
warnings: just the guys being jealous, a lil uncomfortable situations ig,
authors note: sorry i took so long with this anon 🥹🤍! also sorry if this is bad for some reason i was struggling 😓 also ignore any typos any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! if you wanna join my taglist, click HERE!
f1 masterlist
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Lewis
You were at a quaint bookstore in London, browsing through the latest bestsellers. Lewis was busy with a media event, so you decided to take some time to yourself. While searching the shelves, a charming young man approached you, striking up a conversation about the book you were holding.
"So, are you a Ana Huang fan?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile.
You smiled back, appreciating the casual conversation. "Yes, I love her Twisted series! Currently reading book 2."
"That's one of the best books!" he said, inching closer. "I can definitely recommend some more books similar to hers! Maybe if I could get-"
Unbeknownst to you, Lewis had wrapped up his event early and decided to surprise you. He walked into the bookstore just as you were chatting with the stranger. He immediately noticed the man's enthusiastic gestures and your engaged expression. His protective instincts kicked in.
He approached with a confident stride, sliding an arm around your waist. "Hey, babe. Who's your friend?" Lewis's tone was polite, but his eyes were intense.
"Oh, Lewis! This is Tom, we were just talking about The Twisted Series!" you said, trying to ease the tension.
Tom extended his hand, but Lewis's grip on your waist tightened slightly. "Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Lewis."
Tom picked up on the vibe and quickly made his exit. "Nice to meet you too. I'll let you two enjoy your day."
As Tom walked away, you turned to Lewis, raising an eyebrow. "Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?"
Lewis chuckled, relaxing his hold. "Maybe a little. Can you blame me? He was cleary interested."
You kissed his cheek, reassured by his protectiveness. "You’re cute when you get like this, you know you're the only one for me."
Max 
You were at a trendy bar in Monaco with some friends, celebrating your  movie premiere. Max was racing that weekend, so you hadn't expected to see him. While chatting at the bar, a guy approached you, complimenting your dress.
"That dress looks amazing on you," he said smoothly.
"Thanks," you replied, smiling politely.
Max, who had finished his practice session early, decided to surprise you. He walked into the bar and immediately spotted you talking to the stranger. His mood darkened as he saw the guy leaning in closer to you.
Max wasted no time, walking straight over and placing a possessive hand on your lower back. "Hey, schatje. Who's this?"
You turned, surprised and delighted to see him. "Max! This is Jason. He just complimented me on my dress."
Jason, sensing the tension, took a step back. "Nice to meet you, Max. You look beautiful Y/N, nice talking to you."
Max nodded curtly, watching Jason leave before turning his attention back to you. "What was that about?"
"Just a compliment," you said, smiling. "Why are you jealous?"
Max pulled you into a deep kiss, making sure everyone in the bar knew you were his. "No."
You laughed, hugging him tightly. "Yes you are, but it’s okay, I like when you get jealous. Besides you're the only one I want, Maxie."
Charles 
You were at the university library, studying for an upcoming exam. Charles was away for a race, so you decided to focus on your studies. A fellow classmate approached you, asking if he could join you at your table.
"Sure," you said, moving your books to make space.
The two of you started discussing your coursework, but the conversation soon shifted to more personal topics. Just as the guy was about to ask you out for coffee, Charles walked in. He had flown back earlier than expected to surprise you.
He saw you laughing with the guy and felt a pang of jealousy. Charles walked over, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Hey, love. Mind if I join you?"
You looked up, surprised and thrilled. "Charles! Of course, sit down. This is Peter, we were just studying."
Peter quickly excused himself, sensing the unspoken tension. "I'll see you around, Y/N."
As Peter left, Charles took his seat beside you, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. "Who was that?"
"Just a classmate," you said, amused by his reaction. "Jealous much?"
Charles sighed, pulling you closer. "Maybe. But I have every right to be, I mean look at you, you're gorgeous. Any person with common sense would want you."
You kissed his cheek, whispering, "You're adorable, Char! You never have to worry about that. Trust me, you're the only one I want."
Oscar 
You were at a cozy café in Melbourne, waiting for your boyfriend. He had a busy schedule, but you managed to find time for a quick coffee date. While waiting, a guy at the next table struck up a conversation.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, clearly interested.
"Not really, just waiting for someone," you replied, hoping he would take the hint. 
He leaned in a bit closer, a confident smile on his face. "Well, maybe while you wait, we could get to know each other better."
Oscar walked in at that moment, his eyes narrowing as he saw the guy leaning in closer to you as he spoke. He walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Hey, baby. Ready to go?"
The guy quickly backed off, realizing he was intruding. "Oh, I'll leave you two to it," he said, standing up and walking away.
Oscar watched him go before turning to you. "Who was that?"
"I don’t know, just some random guy," you said, smiling up at him. "You feeling okay? You look a little red?"
Oscar shakes his head, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Looking at him you say, “You sure it’s not because you got a little jealous?”
Oscar chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Maybe a little. I just can't stand the thought of anyone else getting your attention."
You hugged him tightly, giving him a short kiss. "You just have to get used to having a very attractive girlfriend baby."
“I guess I do.” he says cheekily wrapping his arm around your waist as you guys walk out. 
Carlos 
You were in the pit lane, watching the preparations for the upcoming race. Carlos was busy with the team, so you decided to explore the area. A fellow fan, noticing your VIP pass, struck up a conversation.
"Are you here for the race?" he asked, clearly impressed by your pass.
"Yes, I'm here with my boyfriend," you replied, trying to be polite but distant.
"That's great," he said, undeterred by the mention of your boyfriend. "Is this your first time attending, or are you a regular?"
"Regular." you responded, hoping the conversation would end soon.
"Oh, so your boyfriend's rich, huh?" he remarked with a smirk.
"Uh, sure…yeah," you replied, taken aback and uncomfortable with his comment.
Carlos, having finished his briefing, spotted you talking to the guy. His protective instincts flared up as he saw him getting a bit too friendly.
He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, cariño. Everything okay?"
The guy quickly stepped back, realizing who Carlos was. "Oh, hey, big fan. Just talking about the race."
Carlos nodded curtly, his grip on your waist firm. "Enjoy the race."
As the fan walked away, you turned to Carlos, smiling. "Thanks for the save."
"No problem," he replied, his expression softening.
"You know, I love how protective you are," you said, leaning into him. "And maybe when you get jealous just a little. It's cute."
He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Lets go get some food, cariño."
Lando 
You were at a gaming convention, enjoying the various booths and activities. Lando was busy with a panel discussion, so you decided to explore. A fellow gamer struck up a conversation, discussing the latest games.
"Have you tried the new VR game?" he asked, clearly excited.
"Not yet, but it looks amazing," you replied, sharing his enthusiasm.
"Yeah, it's fantastic," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I wouldn't mind showing a beautiful girl like you how to use it sometime. It'd be fun."
Lando, having finished his panel, spotted you chatting with the gamer. Jealousy panned over him as he saw the guy flirting with you. 
He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey baby! What are we talking about?"
The gamer quickly felt the energy shift. "Just talking about the new VR game."
Lando nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Cool."
As the gamer walked away, you turned to Lando, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"
Lando sighed, pulling you closer. "What?! It’s not my fault he was interested in my girlfriend."
You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Key word in that sentence is “my girlfriend”."
Sebastian 
You were attending a charity event, mingling with various guests. Sebastian was busy with the organizers, so you decided to socialize. A charming gentleman approached you, engaging you in a lively conversation about the event.
"It's great to see so many people supporting this cause," he said, smiling.
"Absolutely," you replied, enjoying the conversation.
He leaned in a little closer, his tone becoming more personal. "Especially when someone as beautiful as you is here."
You smile nervously, not expecting his direct approach. "Oh, thank you," you responded, trying to look around and grab Seb’s attention.
Sebastian, having finished his duties, spotted you talking to the guy, looking around. He saw the man getting too friendly and walked over to you.
He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, honey. Would you like a drink? Oh! Who's this?"
The gentleman quickly realized he was intruding. "Just talking about the event."
Sebastian nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Enjoy the evening then."
As the man walked away, you turned to Sebastian, raising an eyebrow. "I love when you get protective, it’s hot, the jealousy too."
Sebastian smirked, pulling you closer. "Jealous? Me?! Don’t know what you’re talking about."
You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Mhmm, yea, yea. Let’s get my drink."
Jenson 
You were attending an award ceremony, mingling with various celebrities. Jenson was busy with interviews, so you decided to socialize. A charming actor approached you, engaging you in a lively conversation about the a.
"It's great to see so many talented people here," he said, smiling.
"Agreed," you replied, engaging in the conversation."All nominees this year were very talented and impressive."
He nodded thoughtfully, then leaned in a little closer, his gaze lingering on you. "Speaking of impressive, I couldn't help but notice how stunning you look tonight."
You chuckled softly, flattered but unsure how to respond. "Thank you, that's very kind of you."
He grinned charmingly. "So, are you here with anyone special tonight?"
Jenson spotted you talking to the guy. And started to walk towards you. 
He walked over, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, baby. Who's this?"
The actor quickly realized you were taken. "Just talking about the event."
Jenson nodded, his grip on your waist firm. "Yea, it’s a nice thing."
As the man walked away, you turned to Jenson, raising an eyebrow. "Nice thing?"
Jenson sighed, pulling you closer so he can squeezing your waist. "Didn’t know what to say without being rude so that's what came to my mind."
You smiled and kissed him gently. "Let’s go check out the catering at this 'nice thing'."
Daniel
You were exploring a quaint art gallery in Paris, enjoying the serene atmosphere and the beauty of the artwork on display. Daniel had left his phone in the car, leaving you to appreciate the art alone. As you admired a painting, a friendly gallery assistant approached, eager to discuss the artist's work.
"This piece here is quite exceptional," he said, gesturing towards a vivid abstract painting. "It really captures the essence of movement and emotion."
"It truly does," you replied, appreciating his enthusiasm. "The color blending and stippling is beautiful."
He smiled warmly. "You have a keen eye for art. Beautiful art for a beautiful girl."
"Oh, thank you," you said, trying to show no interest.
Daniel walked into the gallery, He approached, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, baby. Finding any new favorites?"
The gallery assistant reacted quickly to Daniel's presence and backed away. "Just discussing the beautiful artwork," he explained.
Daniel nodded casually. "Thanks for your insights, but we're good here."
As the gallery assistant politely excused himself, you turned to Daniel with a playful smirk. "Oh, someoness jealouss?"
Daniel chuckled softly, pulling you closer. "No, no. Protective, yes. Jealous, could never be me."
You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Mhm hm, if you say so."
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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago
Note
Aemond goes to Storm’s End to spend some time with the Baratheon daughters as he agreed to marry one of them in exchange of House Baratheon’s banners and men. He spends time with each sisters, and ends up getting along with you the best although your older sister says she deserves the prince more. You disregard their opinion and continue spending time with Aemond. Smut happens in secret…and almost gets caught
Request: Library sex!! Aemond find someone who loves books and reading and they end up having sex or maybee not all the way
Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, almost getting caught,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When Aemond returned to Storm’s End, he viewed the Baratheon daughters as part of his duty. He was obligated to marry one of you in exchange for your house’s support for his brother’s claim. Any of you would have done the job, but Lord Borros let him choose. 
The daughters, on the other hand, saw him as a valuable prize. He was a prince. They competed fiercely for his favor, each eager to secure the final spot as his bride. 
‘’Did Prince Aemond propose?’’ you asked Floris as she returned from her afternoon with the prince. 
‘’He has not,’’ Floris said, sitting down on the end of the couch, still giddy from her outing. ‘’But he might soon.’’ 
‘’Did you kiss?’’ Cassandra pressed, wondering why her sister assumed so. 
Floris shook her head, and Cassandra sighed, turning her attention back to her embroidery. She was trying to make a dragon to impress Aemond, but it was somehow looking like an oversized bee with a long neck. 
Beside you, Ellyn breathed a dreamy sigh, thinking of the prince’s tall stature and sharp jawline. ‘’I’m seeing him tomorrow. I picked out a dress just for him.’’ 
‘’Is it the blue one?’’ Floris asked. 
Ellyn nodded with a sly smile. At the moment the dress had been made, it fitted Ellyn perfectly, but now her breasts were slightly spilling out of the neckline. It wasn’t appropriate wear for a casual dinner — not anymore. But when a prince was visiting and looking for his future wife, it was perfect. 
‘’That’s unfair. Not all of us have been graced by the Gods…’’ Maris moaned, jealousy evident in her voice.
When she spent time with Aemond, he made it clear that he had no interest in her. He didn’t say he didn’t wish to marry her, but she felt his disinterest. And he didn’t ask to see her again.
Cassandra interrupted, her tone sharp. ‘’As the oldest, I should be the one marrying the prince. I have flowered, therefore I am capable of providing heirs.’’ 
You rolled your eyes without letting her see. Three out of four of your sisters had flowered; it didn’t make her superior. Not anymore. ‘’I doubt heirs are on the prince’s mind right now, Cassandra. Not when there’s a war in preparation.’’
‘’What do you know about war?’’ She raised an eyebrow, waiting.
‘’Why do you think Prince Aemond and Prince Lucerys asked for our father’s banners and men?’’
‘’She’s right,’’ Maris said, agreeing with you. ‘’He is only marrying one of us because his brother needs our house’s support. If the king had not sent him here, he would never have thought of making one of us his wife. I doubt he even knew our names before he flew to Storm’s End on his big dragon.’’ 
Cassandra huffed, refusing to recognize that Maris was right. 
Instead of waiting around for Ellyn’s return with Cassandra, Maris and Floris, you went to the library. You didn’t want to listen to her bragging about Aemond’s eye peeking down at her chest. Using your body to get a man’s interest was not how you planned to find your husband. For seducing the prince. You wanted him to marry you for the person you were, not the size of your breasts. The conversations would be sad.
‘’A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one,’’ a voice you recognized as Aemond’s said quietly, his voice cutting through the stillness.
You raised your head from your book, seeing him standing by one of the shelves. ‘’May I help you with something, my prince?’’ 
Aemond plucked a book from the shelf and glanced at the first page. ‘’Searching for something to occupy my time. I do not mean to denigrate your home, but there is very little to do on Storm’s End.’’ 
‘’You read?’’ you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice. It was rare to find men who were genuinely interested in books.
The prince nodded once. ‘’I have a preference for history books.’’ He closed the book he was holding and returned it to its place on the shelf. 
‘’I’m afraid our library will disappoint you,’’ you said, a touch of regret in your tone. ‘’As you may have noticed, my father cannot read, and neither did my grandsire, so our collection is quite sparse.’’ 
Aemond’s gaze shifted to the book in your hands. ‘’What of the one you are reading?’’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘’I bought it in town. My septa taught me how to read.’’ 
She taught all of your sisters, but only you and Maris were interested in reading. She insisted that reading was knowledge and believed that a woman should be more than just a dutiful wife and mother. Your father would strongly disagree with her; he just sold one of his daughters for a political alliance.
‘’You never brought it up during our outing.’’ 
‘’I didn’t want to bore you.’’ 
Aemond stepped closer, the distance between you narrowing. ‘’I think reading makes you more interesting.’’ 
Your heart quickened as his words hung in the air. 
Before your first outing with Aemond, Floris had warned you not to mention reading or books, saying that men don’t like that. It made you smile to find out she was wrong.
‘’May I join you?’’ He gestured to the seat beside you. 
You nodded, and Aemond gracefully sat beside you. He took the book from your grasp. You wanted to protest, but he began reading to you, his voice deep in tone, but soft and calm at the core. No one had ever read to you before. 
The torches on the walls of the library casted a golden hue over the room, creating a serene atmosphere. If your sisters knew of this intimate moment, they would be jealous. Especially Cassandra. You would love to see her reaction, watching her jaw tighten as she glared at you. 
Occasionally, Aemond would pause and you heard the gentle rustle of pages turning. You allowed yourself to steal glances at him from time to times, watching his lips move as he read. He must have caught you because sometimes the corner would twitch into a slight smile.
While he read, Aemond’s voice wrapped around you like a warm embrace, each word painting vivid images in your mind. You could listen to him for hours. 
‘’Why did you stop?’’ you asked, turning your head to look at Aemond with a frown drawing between your eyebrows. 
He didn’t say anything. He simply looked back at you, his one eye intensely holding your gaze, and you felt a magnetic pull drawing you closer. You wanted to be all up in his personal space. You wanted to touch his face, gently trace the line of his jaw and feel the warmth of his lips beneath your fingertip.
Aemond’s gaze lowered from your eyes to your lips, sending your heart racing with a newfound intensity. Maybe this unchaperoned moment was not a good idea? Or, maybe it was exactly what you needed? Before he knew it, Aemond’s hand touched your chin, guiding it towards him. He gave you a chance to pull back, to deny him, but only a fool would do so. 
You let your desire take control, closing the gap between you and kissing him. He instinctively leaned in and deepened the kiss, so tender but passionate at the same time. His scent filled your nose, his fingers in your hair while his lips pulled your bottom lip softly as he pulled away. 
A silence filled the air, your head still spinning from the kiss. You reached out to tenderly caress Aemond’s face, soft and smooth beneath your palm.  
Aemond dove for a second kiss, and you heard the thud of the book falling to the ground, completely forgotten. At another moment, you would have picked it up right away, but your mind was…occupied. 
You reached behind Aemond’s neck and pulled him closer to you, his own hands grabbing at your waist and hips as the intensity of the kiss increased. 
It wasn’t in the prince’s habits to kiss a woman like that — to kiss a woman, ever —, but something within Aemond was pushing him to make a move on you. Was this the desire his brother often told him about? 
Humming against his mouth, you grabbed at the front of his jacket, needing something to grab onto as you felt your lower belly start to tingle. The new sensation caused you to shift in your seat, the sudden throbbing between your legs making sitting on a chair very uncomfortable.
‘’Did I hurt you?’’ Aemond asked when you broke the kiss. 
You shook your head. ‘’No. I… Please keep going.’’
He searched your eyes for a sign that would contradict your words, and resumed when he couldn’t find any. 
He slid his hand up your arm and pulled down your sleeve from your shoulder, his warm palm brushing against your bare skin and rising goosebumps. You glanced down at your newly uncovered shoulder, breathing heavily. Aemond then moved down your sides to cup one of your breasts, causing your breath to catch in your throat. 
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing his chest flush against you. It was a clumsy position on the small reading couch, but Aemond manoeuvered himself to make it work. His hands slid down your back as his mouth traveled lower, to the dip in your throat, kissing your neck. You moaned under his mouth, the new sensation awakening so many new feelings inside you. He reached down your leg to find the bottom of your skirts and lifted the fabric to ghost his hand over your ankle and up your leg, bunching the hem up as you breathed heavily. 
You knew where he was going — and you wanted it. Gentleman as always, he stopped and searched for your eyes, needing your consent before pursuing. You nodded, excitement bubbling as you felt his palm on the inner part of your thigh, very close to where you wanted him. His name left your lips in a whisper, a soft beg. He covered your mouth with his, swallowing his name as he dove his hand between your legs. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, gently caressing the outside of you before swiping between your folds, causing you to gasp.
On the scale of forbidden things by your father, indulging in sexual activities outside of marriage — in his castle — was most likely at the top. He did not wish for his daughters to have a bastard baby or lose worth because they lost their maidenhood.
You should have asked Aemond to stop and pushed him away. But your desires were telling you to open your legs and let him in — literally. 
‘’Ahh,’’ you breathed out, your fist clenching over the prince’s clothed bicep as his long finger was deep inside of you, getting squeezed by your clenching walls. 
He pressed his forehead against yours, intently watching your expressions as you discovered a new pleasure. 
Aemond pressed his thumb down over your clit, and started to gently massage it. 
‘’Right there! It feels so good.’’ You sighed immediately and opened your legs a bit more, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from being too loud. There was no one else in the library, but anyone could come in. 
He added another finger, making you moan and pant around him. 
Unfortunately, the pleasure was short-lived as a servant calling your name. 
‘’H-here, Jeyne,’’ you replied, trying to keep your voice steady to avoid any suspicion.
You heard her footsteps approaching on the library’s floor, and you and Aemond quickly composed yourselves. You smoothed down the skirts of your dress while he picked up your book from the floor and opened it, pretending to read as Jeyne arrived.
The servant was visibly surprised to find Aemond with you as all your time in his company had to be chaperoned. She bowed her head to him respectfully before turning to you. ‘’I did not know you had company, miss.’’ Her tone indicated she was searching for gossip. 
You smiled kindly — and innocently — at Jeyne. ‘’Prince Aemond found me in the library during my afternoon reading. I was helping him find a book to take to his chamber as he forgot to bring one for his stay. You are not interrupting.’’ 
Despite their outward trustworthiness, you knew servants had loose lips, and that’s how rumors from the castle spread around town. 
‘’What is it that you wanted?’’ you asked, pressing her leave.
Jeyne glanced nervously between you and Aemond before speaking. ‘’Your father requests your presence in the great hall, miss. A raven arrived from Winterfell and he is struggling to read it.’’
You nodded, maintaining your composed demeanor. ‘’Thank you, Jeyne. Please inform my father that I will be there shortly.’’
You watched Jeyne leave, and let out a breath once she was out of earshot. That was close. Getting caught in a compromising position would not have been good for your reputation. 
Aemond closed his book, a frown marring his composed posture. ‘’I apologize for losing my manners, miss Y/N. I don't usually engage in these kinds of…activities in public places.’’ The mention of sex seemed to make him uncomfortable. His usual confidence was replaced by a rare vulnerability.
‘’I don’t either,’’ you said, your cheeks flushed as you stared at the skirt of your dress. ‘’I…I should get going. I promised to help Cassandra pick her dress for tomorrow. Not all dresses are suited for horseback riding.’’ You rose from the reading couch, giving Aemond one last glance. ‘’I’ll see you later at dinner, my prince.’’ 
You made a move to leave, but Aemond clasped his hand over your wrist. His touch was firm yet gentle, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’That won't be necessary,’’ he interrupted, his voice low and steady. ‘’In case I haven't made myself clear, I've already made my choice. I want you.’’
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