#yesterday was really disappointing and i’m not over it sorry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

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do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned.

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment.

“But we made such good plans,” he laments.

You kiss his cheek.

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them.

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all.

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.

His eyebrows raise.

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly.

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face.

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again.

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything?

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.

“Do you want to?”

Woah.

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how?

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches.

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him.

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is.

The size sinks in a quick second later.

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch.

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed.

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously.

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him.

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it.

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out.

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped.

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?”

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his.

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower.

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate.

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again.

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible.

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt.

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer.

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?”

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls.

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck.

He really wants to tell you right now.

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated.

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him.

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.

“Stand up.”

You frown.

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no.

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again.

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening.

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him.

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath.

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words.

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

part 3.5

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months ago

Text

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum.

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home.

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers.

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says.

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say.

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees.

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.”

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo?

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer.

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.”

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure.

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble.

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.”

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.”

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses.

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious.

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks.

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.”

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill.

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear.

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles.

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes.

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly.

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules.

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells.

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes.

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you.

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll.

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either.

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything.

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve.

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters.

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out.

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you.

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs.

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine.

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy.

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before.

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal.

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter.

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel.

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply.

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too.

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now.

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns.

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back.

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs.

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire.

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits.

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust.

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses.

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg.

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep.

“Please,” you beg again.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more.

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over.

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high.

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,” you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers.

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone.

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh.

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.”

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say.

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?”

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time.

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says.

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place.

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page.

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around.

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started.

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment.

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?”

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear.

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand.

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.”

“Of course not,” he says.

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed.

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you.

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning.

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked.

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble.

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan.

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out.

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says.

“I know,” you sigh.

“So, what’s going on?” he asks.

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night.

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.”

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says.

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says.

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited.

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird.

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?”

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?”

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say.

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.”

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure.

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings.

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness.

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake.

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep.

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says.

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him.

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge.

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.”

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply.

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits.

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.”

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say.

“About what?” he asks.

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately.

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation.

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him.

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized.

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous.

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug.

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?”

“I don’t know, a while,” he says.

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.”

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.”

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool.

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment.

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.”

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.”

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural.

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕

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azzibuckets · 5 months ago

Text

national what day [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: a very random and unedited little blurb i wrote for national girlfriend day yesterday

word count: 1k

masterlist

“You think I’d forget?”

Emerging from the bathroom, Azzi freezes midway through brushing her teeth, not expecting to see a huge inflatable Olaf, probably as tall as her, sitting on her bed. Even wilder is Paige standing next to the Olaf with a proud grin on her face, one hand holding a gift bag from Tiffany’s and the other holding a huge sign that said “Olaf you!”

Azzi licks toothpaste from the corner of her lip. “What’s this for?”

Paige’s face drops, the corner of her lips turning downwards as a pout starts to form. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Azzi gurgles at the sink before spitting out her toothpaste. Wiping her damp hands dry on her sleep shirt, she returns and eyes Paige curiously. “This is super cute, babe, I love it. But am I missing something?”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow even further, her mouth agape. “You don’t know what today is?”

Azzi looks innocently around, as if an idea would conjure up in the air in front of her. “The first of the month?”

Paige’s mouth pulls into a even tighter line. She slumps on the bed beside the Olaf, throwing her arms around its stomach and burrowing her head into the plastic nylon material. “Maybe you can be my new girlfriend,” she grunts, her voice muffled.

Azzi nudged Paige in the back. “What’s going on?”

The blonde peeks up, one eye glaring at her girlfriend and the other covered by blonde hair falling across her face. “Did you honestly forget it’s national girlfriend day?”

Azzi, having busied herself with her bedtime routine, starts to rub lotion onto her face. “Is that a thing?”

“Of course it’s a thing!” Paige whines. “How do you not know it exists?”

“I’m not chronically online,” Azzi says slyly, smirking at Paige in the mirror.

“Babe.” Paige is behind Azzi now, hands splaying across her waist and pulling her in. She brushes a kiss across the nape of Azzi’s neck, fingers smoothing out the curly baby hairs at her hairline. “Did you really not know?”

The dejected look on Paige’s face forces Azzi out of her act. Bursting out laughing, Azzi turns in Paige’s room and presses a light kiss to her nose. “You’re so gullible it’s cute.”

“I’m cute?” Paige is smirking now, completely ignoring the first half of the sentence as her eyes glaze over with wonder.

Azzi pushes Paige in the forehead with her palm. “And you’re so in love with me you’re deaf.” Shaken out of her trance, Paige follows Azzi to the bathroom.

“That’s fucked up,” Paige groans. “Why’d you do me like that earlier?”

“You were gone the entire day and you said you’d be home by 7. It’s 10 and you just got back.” Azzi has a half smile on her face, but Paige sees right through it. She hates the thought of her ever disappointing her girlfriend, so she swallows down her pride.

“I’m really sorry, I was at Tiffany’s getting your necklace I ordered ahead but then it took a while and-,”

“Paige, it’s okay,” Azzi interrupts, reaching out to brush off a piece of lint from Paige’s shoulder. Her hand rests there and she squeezes. “I’m not mad at you, I swear. I just wish you would’ve texted me so I could’ve prepared better.”

“Prepared?”

“I made us dinner.” Azzi glances shyly away. “Spaghetti, steak, all your favorites. It’s in the fridge now, but it’s fine. We can eat it later, like meal prep.”

“Azzi.” There’s hurt and regret and guilt packed in only one word, and Paige’s eyes are wet when she clamps her hand over Azzi’s. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I should’ve texted. I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.” Paige cups Azzi’s face in hers, beginning to pepper her face with kisses. “Tomorrow, just me and you. I’m gonna take you out, okay? It’s gonna be the best day of your life.”

Laughing, Azzi shakes her head. “Don’t feel bad, Paige, I told you it’s fine.”

“You’re too fucking good of a person,” Paige says, all serious now. “I messed up and should take responsibility for it.”

“I don’t know, your huge ass Olaf makes it easy to forgive you.” Azzi glances over Paige’s shoulder, eyes softening once she realizes that a necklace of polaroids is draped across its neck. “Is that us?”

Paige follows Azzi’s glance. “It is. But come on.” Dragging Azzi’s hand along, she leads them downstairs to the kitchen before they’re both staring at the fridge.

“Paige, it’s 10 PM.”

“You made us dinner. We gotta eat it.” Paige opens the fridge and immediately starts stacking the counter with the Tupperware containers marked with “P&A”.

“You missed the vegetables,” Azzi says pointedly when Paige starts to close the fridge.

“No, I didn’t,” Paige says breezily before shutting the door.

“Where are we going?” Azzi questions as Paige picks up the containers before hurrying out the front door.

“Somewhere more private.” Juggling all the containers on one hand, Paige opens the door to the back seat with the other and ushers Azzi inside.

“Sitting in a cold and dark car eating cold leftovers. Best national girlfriend’s day ever,” Azzi says sarcastically as she scoots in.

“Shut up.” Paige flicks Azzi in the cheek. “I wanna cuddle while we eat.”

“We couldn’t do this in our room?”

“You know your mom hates when we eat in the bedroom.”

Azzi shrugs, adjusting their bodies so that she’s lying in Paige’s arms as they sprawl across the three seats.

“This is what I used to dream of.”

“Huh?” Azzi looks up as she pops a piece of cold steak into her mouth.

“Calling you my girlfriend. Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to be with you and I have to slap myself. I used to think about scenarios like this every fucking night before I went to sleep.”

Azzi smiles into Paige’s bicep. “You’re such a romantic.”

“You know that if I had the choice I would’ve spent the entire day with you?”

“I know. You’re pretty obsessed with me.” And there are a lot of words that Azzi wants to say. That she thinks that her heart beats for Paige, and she doesn’t know how she managed to live before this crazy beanpole white girl ran into her life and upheaved everything she knew. But she stores it inside the small part of her brain that’s been working on her vows since she was 14, and instead she says, “But it’s not like you forgot an anniversary. You and I both know today doesn’t really matter.”

“But you matter.” Paige’s grip tightens on Azzi.

Azzi nuzzles her head into Paige’s chest, sighing contentedly as her eyes flutter sleepily. “You make me feel like I matter.”

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconnwbb #pazzi #paige x azzi #wcbb #fluff #blurb #fic #paige bueckers x azzi fudd

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castiwls · 2 months ago

Text

coach (doesn't) always know best .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; Patrick continues to be a thorn in your side whether he means to or not. When you get a phone call claiming your son had hit another kid you had a damn good idea who had a hand in this.

Notes; part two to my coach one shot kinda? I think I'm gonna write more one shots which all link into a larger story? I'm not good with full series but I have an idea where I wanna take this. ALSO named the kid Noah to help make it easier

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

You were pissed - scratch that seething.

You’ve been having a good week. Work had been easy and thankfully so had your son, Noah had his moments even at eight he was still prone to random emotional outbursts which always left a slight pit in your stomach.

You’d never planned to be a single parent and sometimes you really wanted to need someone else to rant to whenever you fucked up. Though this time it wasn’t you who had fucked up.

“What made you think that was okay?” Your son watched from the kitchen table, his eyes wide with the guilt you knew was eating at him. He’d been quiet ever since you’d come to pick him up from school besides mumbling apologies he’d barely spoken something which left you uneasy.

“I have always told you to never put your hands on someone else! If a kid is mean to you or your friends you go get a teacher.” A sigh left your lips as you paused in front of him. This was completely new ground. He was a good kid, the best which is why you’d been in utter disbelief when you’d gotten the phone call telling you to come pick him up.

You’d immediately assumed he must have been sick but his teacher had quickly curved that by telling you that your son had taken it upon himself to hit another kid at break. You knew the kid he’d hit was a brat - it was common knowledge - but that didn’t make a difference on how your son had acted.

His little feet kicked idly as he stared at his hands. “I know he was being mean to your friend okay? And he shouldn’t have taken that toy but you shouldn’t have hit him.” You knelt your hand rubbing over his knee.

“You're mad.” He mumbled reusing to look up. “I’m disappointed.” You corrected him.

His cheated heaved as he took a breath, and you already knew he wasn’t far off crying. The disappointment was far worse than anger in his mind. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his hands pulling at his polo.

“I know you are. But why?” You couldn’t get your head around why he had hit this kid! Ever since he was young you’d discouraged hitting and he’d never attempted it since starting school. You were sure you’d curved the habit but now you were unsure.

“Why did you hit him?”

Noah sniffled his shoulders slumping as you watched him, waiting. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this one. “He kept being mean to Conner and he wouldn’t do anything! He pushed him over yesterday and the teacher didn’t believe us.” Your jaw tightened slightly as he relayed the story. “That doesn’t mean you hit him.”

He nodded. “I mentioned it last night at practice, and Conner got upset, so Patrick asked what happened, and he said that a bully won't stop unless you show him you're just as strong.” He looked up, his big eyes wet, as he rubbed a fist across his ruddy cheeks.

You hummed pulling him in for a hug.

You were gonna kill Patrick.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“You told my son to hit a boy.”

Patrick grimaced leaning against his car as your voice carried down the phone. “Hello to you too.” He mumbled.

“Patrick.” You snapped.

“I didn’t tell him to hit the kid!”

“You told him to get him back! He’s eight! He doesn’t understand that ‘get him back’ doesn’t mean literally do the same thing.”

“I didn’t think he’d listen to me! I was just tryna make the kid feel better.” You scoffed mumbling under your breath. Shifting his grip on the phone he took another drag of his cigarette. “I’m sorry alright! I didn’t think he’d take it literally.”

He couldn’t lie part of him got a small kick out of it. The teachers weren’t doing anything and at least your son had the guts to stand up to the kid. Maybe he’d gone about it the wrong way but still, he doubted that kid would be trying anything again soon.

“Get your ass over here right now.” Your tone was still harsh as you watched the window. “I want you to tell him what he did was wrong.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Hey, I’m his tennis coach, not some sorta ethics teacher.” He stamped out the cigarette a small smirk pulling at his lips as memories of that last time he’d ended up at your door flashed through his mind.

Hell, that had been the first time he’d managed to render you speechless…more than once. He’d taken great amusement in the way you’d refused to look at him for the full week after, almost as if you were embarrassed that he’d worn you down that fast.

“I think you just want an excuse to get me back into your house.” He heard your groan and his grin only widened. “Mhm. One time wasn’t enough?”

“I’m going to skin you alive Zweig.”

“I love when you talk like that. It’s kinda hot knowing you think about me…even if it is about my demise.”

A scowl formed on your face as your hand tightened over your phone. Damn him.

“You’ll be here in 30 minutes or i will make sure you can’t have any children.”

He chuckled, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He could almost picture the look on your face, the way your jaw clenched as your eyes would darken just a smidge.

“Anything you say, Sweetheart.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

It only took one ring for you to open the door, a tight smile pulling at your lips as you let him in. “Just in time.” You mumbled not missing the way his eyes seemed to take an elevator sweep of your body.

Patrick grinned, hands shoved into his jeans as you closed the door. “Look’s like my future children are safe huh?”

“For now.”

You turned heading towards the kitchen before yelling over your shoulder. “Take your shoes off.”

Patrick rolled his eyes before kicking his shoes off and following you through the entryway. Noah looked up from his plate, his eyes widening before a bright grin broke out when he noticed Patrick behind you. He raised his hand in greeting which Patrick returned with a smile of his own.

“You remember how i spoke to you about what you did?” Noah’s gaze moved to you, his smile dulling slightly as he nodded. “Yeah.” You gestured to Patrick as you leaned against the counter.

Patrick frowned something in his chest pulling at the way the normally lively boy seemed subdued almost as he listened to you. “Patricks gonna talk to you about the conversation you had alright?” You pushed off the counter sending Patrick a look which said ‘Don’t fuck this up’ before you paused by the doorway.

“You're not in trouble.” You reminded gently. Noah nodded, his shoulders relaxing when he registered that Patrick wasn’t there to yell at him. You smiled before turning to leave. “Wait. wait, wait, wait. You're not gonna…stay” He gestured to your son.

“This is your problem.” You hummed watching as the man gaped at you. “You can solve this by telling him what you actually meant.” Patrick seemed to snap out of his shock. He’d caused this mess and now you were letting him talk to your son about it again! You were letting him parent your damn child!

He was not qualified for this.

You sighed stepping closer as Noah watched you both. “I already laid the groundwork you just have to reinforce it. He’s gonna listen to you since it's you who he listened to the first time.”

Before he could respond you’d already wandered away. He watched for a moment as you disappeared up the stairs before he turned back to the boy. Taking a small breath he clapped his hands before pulling out the chair next to him.

“Alright kid, ready to talk?”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Half an hour later you were growing angsty. They were still talking. You hadn’t heard any screaming yet, neither had Patrick come looking for you which you assumed was a good thing.

Though you were quickly running out of chores. You’d cleaned your room and his room before doing both bathrooms. It couldn't help to just go and check…right?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you quietly returned downstairs. The soft echo of voices reached your ears as you paused by the kitchen door, peering through the crack. Your lips parted in slight shock as you watched your son nodding eagerly at whatever his coach was saying.

He was practically half-lent across the table as he listened. The room fell quiet for a moment before your son's voice filled the silence. “Mommies still mad.” He said, his lips pulling into a frown. “Your Mom’s not upset bud.” Patrick sighed resting a hand on the table.

“She’s probably just shocked more than anything. Shocked and maybe disappointed but she's not mad.” He reassured, his tone softer than you’d ever heard. Something in your chest pulled as you watched the two. The way your son shifted ever closer filled you with a slight warmth.

Your ex wasn’t the best father, too caught up in his own company even when he had Noah to make an effort. You knew he was missing a male role model and you’d spent many nights kicking yourself for the downfall of your relationship.

He really trusted Patrick. You swallowed your hand curling over the door knob as your son got off his chair. You watched with bated breath as he stopped by Patrick's legs, his small voice mumbling. “Hug?”

Patrick seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes glancing around the room. He didn’t seem to notice you before he looked back down to Noah’s pleading gaze. “Sure buddy.” He smiled helping the boy climb into his lap.

Patrick fumbled for a moment before figuring out the best way to hold him, his large hands rubbing over his back. “You know you're really lucky right?” Noah hummed pulling back slightly. “How?”

Patrick smiled. “Your mom really loves you. The fact she was so worried over this means that she really cares okay? I promise you she’s not mad.” Noah nodded. “She's not mad,” he repeated, the message finally seeming to sink in as he buried his head back into Patrick's chest.

His hand continued to rub soothing patterns as he let himself enjoy the affection. It made his heart warm almost the way the little boy seemed to finally properly relax. “You really hit the jackpot.” He teased feeling Noah shift.

“I’m pretty sure you got the best mom in the whole world.”

Noah giggled pulling back again. “I did!” He grinned.

You stepped back, your head hitting the wall as their voices drifted into the background. Taking a breath you tried to suppress the smile pulling at your lips as the scene replayed over and over in your head.

Patrick thought you were a good Mom. The thought was insane. The fact that you liked it was even wilder.

Taking a breath you pushed off the wall. You’d let them be for now.

205 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 9 months ago

Note

hi mum can we get more dr rem PLEASE :3

Always pookie <3

cw: implicit nausea and vomit, no description

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

The sound of his voice makes you smile even in your sorry state. “Hi, Remus.”

“Hi.” Something softens in his tone; you like to think he’s smiling too. “I’m not late to pick you up, am I? I’ve only just got home from work.”

“No, so did I.” You lean your forehead on the cool ceramic of your toilet tank, thanking your past self for having cleaned it just yesterday. “I actually…I’m sorry, I think I’m going to need a raincheck.”

A pause. “Oh.” You wince at the disappointment in his voice. “That’s too bad. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve just caught a bug,” you say. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun.”

“You’re always fun,” Remus replies warmly, and you smile. “Are you not feeling well?”

“Not great,” you hedge. You’ve been dating Remus long enough to know how he worries, and you don’t want that. “I’ll live, though. Maybe we can meet later in the week?”

“Or,” he says, low and coaxing, “I could come over now and make you some soup.”

You almost sigh, it sounds so nice. What you wouldn’t give to have him rub your back, carry you to bed and press a kiss to your brow. But you’re a mess right now, and you’re trying to save him from it.

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” you say reluctantly. “Anyway, it’s not that kind of sick.”

“Tell me your symptoms.”

“Ew,” you laugh. “Take me to dinner first, Lupin.”

“Well, I did try,” he says, and you can almost hear his smile through the phone. It catches just as easily as it does in person. “Seriously, love, how do you feel? Do you know what it is?”

“Not necessarily, but it’s really not bad. I just don’t want to infect you.”

“I could probably help.”

“But when you got sick I’d feel awful,” you tell him sincerely. “Thank you, but really, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a ring when I’m no longer a biohazard, okay?”

Remus harrumphs, but when he speaks his voice still crackles with fondness. “Alright.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

You hear him echo you as you lower the phone from your ear, setting it on the bathroom floor before following it down. You don’t feel secure enough in your stomach to leave the toilet just yet, so you curl up on the small mat by the shower and succumb to the exhaustion that’s been chasing you since lunchtime.

~~~

“Oh, sweetheart.”

You wake to a warm hand on your even warmer shoulder, startling a bit as you pull your face from the rug. Remus is looking down at you with an awful little crease between his brows.

“Remus?” you ask, just to be sure.

“Hi,” he says softly. “You didn’t sound this bad over the phone, you know. I’d have rushed if I knew you were about to take a nap on the floor.”

You blink, trying to clear the fog from your brain. “How’d you get in here?”

“You showed me the spare key when I took care of your plants, remember?” Remus looks a bit sorry, wedging a hand underneath your ribs to encourage you sitting up. “I did try to call, but I think you must have slept through it.”

“Oh,” you murmur, getting upright and crossing your legs underneath you awkwardly.

He smiles thinly and sets a hand to your forehead. The gesture feels oddly intimate. You’ve slept with this man, met his friends, shown him where you keep your spare key, and somehow this feels intimate.

Remus makes a terribly lovely cooing sound. You think you might just die right here.

“You’re burning,” he says worriedly. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since about lunch,” you admit.

“Yeah?” He frowns, cupping your face in the basin of his palm. “How’d you fare at work?”

“I got sick in the bathroom, but then I just finished out the day.” Remus’ frown is starting to look mortifyingly near to a pout. “It wasn’t this bad then, I don’t think. It got worse once I was home.”

He hums. “Do you know how you caught it?”

You glance at the toilet, horrified at the sight of your unflushed sick inside. “Some of my coworkers went home sick, but…look, Remus, it was really nice of you to come, but you don’t have to be here.” You say this with your cheek tucked into his palm, soaking up the feeling of his touch. “It’s way too early for you to see me like this.”

“Oh?” One corner of his mouth twitches, but he keeps his expression curious. “Why’s that?”

“Because…because.” You try to imbue your tone with some sternness. “It’s the standard progression of things. Peeing together, saying I love you, then you see me when I’m sick.”

Remus nods, humming pensively. His thumb strokes at your cheek. “You want to pee together before saying I love you? That’s interesting.”

You feel your face heat, which you didn’t know was even possible at this point. You thought surely you’d maxed out. “I’m serious.”

“Alright,” he says. Soft, pacifying. “All that notwithstanding, I’m afraid I can’t leave you like this, lovely girl. I’ll avert my eyes if you want me to, but I’m really not too worried about seeing you any way you can be, so I think it might be easier on you if you didn’t worry about it either.”

You wither. “But I’m gross.”

He frowns. “You’re not. You’re just not feeling your best right now, and that’s fine. Let me take care of you.”

You look at him for a few moments, and Remus looks back. His amber stare is steady. Finally, you give in to your more pathetic urges and nod.

“Alright.” He gives your cheek another tender stroke. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick again now?”

“No,” you say meekly. It feels weird to discuss these things with him, but Remus acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Perfect. Think you can make it to bed?”

You definitely can, but Remus still walks you the whole way, one arm around your waist and his attention cautiously on your feet should you stumble. He gets you situated under the covers, forbidding more than one blanket until your fever comes down, and goes back into the bathroom to get the supplies he’d brought with him.

You hear the toilet flush and cringe, but he comes back out like nothing happened.

“I wasn’t sure what to bring since you wouldn't tell me what you had on the phone,” there’s a bit of light admonishment to his tone as he sits on the edge of your mattress with a paper bag, “so I brought most of my medicine cabinet. Do you want some anti-nausea, or are you still alright for now?”

“Yes, please,” you say in a small voice. Remus passes you a cup of water before shaking a pill into his hand. He watches as you take it.

“You’re going to want to keep taking small sips of that,” he tells you. “It sounds like you’re right and it’s just a stomach bug, so we’ll probably keep you off solid foods for a little while. You just let me know when you’re feeling up to some crackers or something, okay?”

“Okay,” you echo him. Your heart suddenly feels as warm and tender as if your fever were affecting it, too. You’re enamored with the idea that you could go to sleep, right now, and Remus would still be here to take care of you when you wake up. He’d probably hold your hand if you asked, or read you something, or just sit with you if that was what you wanted. It makes you feel pathetically teary to think of being so cared for.

Something shifts in Remus’ expression. He looks at you more closely, pushing a piece of hair away from your face.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Just, thanks for coming.”

Remus smiles. “Changing our minds about the standard progression of things, are we?” But before you get a chance to hide under your covers and never come out, he leans forward, kissing your cheek. “Don’t mention it.”

733 notes · View notes

gangplanksorenji · 1 year ago

Text

Kinknuary Day 3: Blowjob

Pairing: LE SSERAFIM Yunjin x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,524

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

--------------------------------------

There are days that something is prominent in your university life and must not be left behind, but think about it again—is it really that important?

What was it, anyway? Well, apart from the plethora of asynchronous to reflection-type activities and assignments, it would be the usual attachments with Huh Yunjin and your own endeavors with her. It’s crazy to say that a perfect girl like her became your best-friend in just a snap of a finger yet you wouldn’t complain—a girl like her should be treasured; you can’t afford to lose her and should be protected at all costs. Well, after all, you’re Yunjin’s knight and shining armor while she’s your foundation and your emotional support and it all just balances when the two of you are together.

Friends. Yes, there’s maybe nothing more than that—oh, wait, she’s your best friend and probably the one that’s there for everything, even if it’s more than beneficial.

“Come on man, we gotta go! You can’t just sit there and do nothing!”

“Yunjin, can you just wait and I am doing something, by the way. Just leave me in peace while I finish this, please—”

“Arghh, why would you just do it now??” Yunjin’s tone masks annoyance and disappointment as she’s not having it whenever you’re doing such assignments with little to no time left and all in a rush. “We’re going to be late for class and I don’t wanna miss out on anything because of this dumb stupidity by you!”

You’re now getting annoyed with her antics and soon, you’re going to explode out of anger but you know that this is just Yunjin herself. An impatient bugbear that will literally scold you for minutes—yes, that’s her. She has a great point too, in all fairness—the point of your pointless procrastination in so-little time when there’s plenty of it yesterday. She knows how hard you can procrastinate over something but for her, this is just too far and she’s not having it.

“Come on! I’m blaming you whenever we get called out for being late! You’re such a—”

“Then go without me then! Can’t you see I’m finishing this as fast as I can?”

The room permeates silence; the earlier ebullient sounds of so-called quarrel is now replaced with just breaths, Yunjin shutting herself up as fear runs down her veins, scared with your serious tone and your intimidatingly stern look. Of course, she won’t leave you hanging like this and won’t go without you so, she just sat down beside you and tapped your shoulder, wanting your attention to be averted towards hers.

“Hey, I’m sorry—we’re just going to be late in class and I’m just worried about it…”

“Yeah, yeah, Yunjin. It’ll be done, okay? Just sit and wait there on the couch, please.”

She immediately followed what you’ve commanded her and it was an awkward situation to be in, let alone the uncanny silence following it. She knows how much of a tsundere you are, really ignoring the fact of apologizing for something she shouldn’t be apologizing for and your ignorance of it. It’s not the fact that you don’t appreciate something for her but rather, your focus was just on finishing this madness as soon as possible as you didn’t care what could stop you. After a few more minutes of more stress and peak procrastination, you’ve finally reached the endpoint and you could have never been happier than this.

“God, finally—I’m done with this shit! Yunjin, have you closed everything? Checked everything?” you ask her but just a hitch of her breath is the response, and then such deafening silence follows (deafening as you can’t stand playing games with her right now, getting too irritated with her childish antics). “Hey, Yunjin! I’m asking you and just answer the question good god—stop playing with me!”

Another faint silence ensues until she breaks the tow—

“Yes, I did! Gosh, you’re always so serious!”

“Yunjin, not this time, okay? We’re running late and you’re making me look like I’m the one who’s more concerned when you can’t shut your mouth earlier about being late.”

She knows you have a point and she didn’t bother debating her side—there’s no need for that, since it’s just a small thing that shouldn’t be escalated further.

“Okay, okay, calm down, jeez—let’s just go now, everything’s all good too.”

You packed your things in a rush as the both of your eyes wandered on the unchecked sides of the apartment as everything is fine, the two of your rushing yourselves right after in order not to get late onto the the class of your strict professor—you just don’t want to get called out again, and neither does Yunjin.

--------------------

Thank god the both of you got there in time and gladly, the lecture ended in just an hour as everything went smoothly and with no repercussions. After that, the both of you then coursed your way onto the university’s quadrangle, finding a table and a bench to invest into some studies and engage in some interesting talks with her since it’s mostly your free time until it’s near sunset. Even with the peaceful atmosphere nature gives, you can’t help but be bothered with Yunjin’s sporadic mannerisms as something feels off about her yet you didn’t really mind it.

“Hey, you idiot.”

“What, Yunjin?” You looked at her, slightly annoyed as it’s evident on your face yet you anticipate.

“Do you think he will like this?” She sighs heavily with a pessimistic look on her face, looking a little defeated knowing what may come next will not be in her own favor. She fidgets the small, folded paper between her fingers as she blows some air heavily, feeling a hint of defeat.

“What is that—” You swiftly grabbed the piece of paper that she’s staring at as it caught her off-guard, also letting out an irritated growl because of your irksome advances.

“Hey! Give it to me!”

“Dear Cheol-san, I wish—”

“Hey, give it back—arghh!” Yunjin then got the chance to grab the paper away from your hands as she glares at you, definitely infuriated from your childish actions. “You’re so stupid! I hate you…”

The earlier bright atmosphere suddenly became clouded with awkwardness and vex, your actions really getting into the path of consequence as you felt bad for her, regretting what you’ve done and apologizing to her right after.

“Hey, I was just kidding with you—I’m sorry…”

She slowly averted her eyes towards you, then faintly smiling yet annoyance is still evident on her face.

“Just don’t do that again, prick. Can you just like—be serious with me, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, what is it?” You furrowed your eyebrows and your orbs then glistened with anticipation and willingness—the willingness of listening and discerning whatever she may share.

“I’m scared to confess to him so… I don't know if he'll like the traditional way of confessing secretly, like with a letter…”

“Maybe, yeah—I don’t know? Maybe unless you try—it’s up to you… I don’t care whatever you wanna do but that’s just my advice” You advised her yet she felt that yours weren’t so sincere as you feel guilty after saying that. She knew something was off so she needed to address it to you so it won’t bother her anymore.

“Is it though? You felt like you didn’t care about me after saying that…”

“What do you mean I don’t care? I care about you of course, even though you’re a nuisance sometimes and I hate it…”

You’re not even trying and Yunjin already connected the dots, finding the culprit of your resentful mood.

“Ah—you’re jealous, hm? Yo, you’re so childish!”

“How the fuck am I even jealous about that? Gosh, see? That’s why I hate you so much!”

Of course, the last retaliation against her as a defense is total hypocrisy and it’s putting alcohol on the wounds—it’s just going to get worse once you put more and it’s the involuntary culprit that exposes your hidden desire.

“Stop the cap—you’re jealous because I’m confessing to someone—”

“Okay, okay!! Maybe I am a little jealous but it doesn’t mean anything really serious…” You mutter an excuse again in hopes for Yunjin to believe it but you know she won’t.

You’re jealous about it and you know it yourself. You wanted her eyes to be on yours as always but people are a victim of change and you hate it. Being in the zone of just friendship is a hard pill to swallow yet a blessing in disguise—it’s painful and bitter yet it rewards you, the reward of complete assurance whenever she’s down as you have her all by yourself, in so many ways.

She felt your pain but it’s still not too late for your heart to go on a slumber—you capture her lips in a swift motion as she eagerly reciprocates, her eyes open as it catched her off-guard.

It was torrid as it escalated further, resulting in lustful exchanges of pecks and bites onto each others’ lips. You felt her need and thirst as in every second that passes, the experience just becomes enchanting and fruitful. The kiss was surely “platonic” but you can’t deny the plethora of romantic feelings you felt for her for years as you hope that feels it too. The kiss was untangled after a short while, exchanging breaths and small giggles as you can see her face blush from your sudden advances.

“I missed this.”

“I missed it too, Yunjin.”

Your noses meet as the atmosphere permeates hunger now, and not so long after, she captured your lips once again, getting addicted to your taste and giving in to her primal desires. It was just a total déjà vu from earlier—her eager reciprocation earlier was now replaced by you doing it as something adds to the spiciness; and it was dancing of both tongues craving on each other’s affection as it didn’t last that long too, Yunjin feeling uneasy because you were still in a public place.

“Feeling really hungry, hm?”

“You should have known better, Yunjin.” You whisper as she smiles as a response. She knows you well and knows what you could do to her yet something’s bothering her and it’s not you…

“We should actually take this somewhere privately.”

“You don’t want people watching us? Let them be envious?”

“Yah!” Yunjin lightly punches your shoulder then throws out a playful glare, feeling opposed to your proposition as she wanted all things just between the both of you only and no one else.

“Then lead the way, Yunjin…”

------------------------------------------------

“If you weren’t so hard on me last night, you could have tasted or felt a load from me, Yunjin.”

“Well, I wasn’t really feeling the mood to get fucked yesterday because I wanted it now—”

“Where everybody could possibly see?”

“No—” Yunjin inches her face dangerously close to you as she squinted her eyes, proposing you onto something you always wanted. “—where everybody will be secluded to see your desired treasure, which is me.”

Yunjin ran down her fingers onto your chest, spiraling it as she emanated the heat of her palm onto your heart, making it rapidly beat faster.

“So, Yunjin, is this where everything will end up?”

“Maybe—we’ve been friends for a long, long while now so you know where this will end.”

“All inside your mouth.”

“About time.”

It’s going near—going to start another filthy mess, you assume. Another wild thought bewildered you as your carnal desires are slowly taking over you and you’re fully embracing it. Once she knelt down on her knees and tugged your pants and started unbuckling your belt, you knew instantly what she’s craving and it’s within you. She was swift with her movements and in each clothing that was being undressed from you is the pervading heat of her hands and Yunjin herself. You relax yourself onto the tile wall on the restroom as you run your finger towards her hair, playing with it and encouraging her to get her deserved prize that she’s been longing for. Now with just your boxers on the way, she deftly tugged it as she was amazed with the growing erection that has been hiding under your clothed prison.

“Oooh, it’s not getting big~”

“Now do something about it, Yunjin.”

“Of course, I will.”

Within a single action, she has the last defense off as it springs to life, almost hitting her on the face. Your amassed precum ran down your slit as your length twitches in front of her, Yunjin herself getting excited and aroused just by seeing the perfection your cock has.

“God, look at it—” Yunjin’s eyes convey amazement and awe, worshiping your cock with just the words escaping her mouth. Her pupils dilate and you can see it as it scans every inch of your throbbing length. You moaned fervently once she palmed her hand onto the base of your shaft as the coldness of the wall you’re lying in contradicts to the heat of the moment she’s doing between your lengths. Your mouth is slightly ajar, your eyes closing from time to time because of the leisurely pleasurable handjob she’s been giving you and it’s only just the beginning.

“God, Yunjin—”

“Don’t worry, we’re still going to fuck like animals anytime we want, okay?”

“Yeah, but—oh fuck!” You exclaimed as the pillowy flesh envelops your entire length, the pleasure you’re experiencing is something nigh-close to an overdrive. Her lips are so plump, so soft that it feels heavenly whenever she embraces it around your mushroom tip. She lightly sucks the tip, and a playful run of her tongue onto your slit, causing your thighs to shiver in delight and to let out a series of moans that bless her ears. She delightfully collects the sudden precum that was leaking out of your slit as you moaned because of her own work of art. The suction was too good to be true as it felt surreal and the way that she hollows her cheek everytime she goes deeper—taking in half of you—you just can’t help but moan and compliment her ways of pleasuring you.

“S-such a good girl—fuck, I w-won’t get tired of you sucking m-my dick all day…”

“Gahh—if it means a lot for you and a reward after it, then I don’t mind sucking you off any time you want.”

And goes back in and it’s getting sloppier the second she has her mouth around your throbbing length. She places both of her hands onto your thighs for leverage as your hands go onto the back of her head, forming a makeshift ponytail to hold yourself a leverage—to fight the omnipotent pleasure that’s taking over you. Her pace wildens, her head bobbing up and down furiously as it shows how deprived she is to taste you and to give you what you want. Saliva then seeps out of her mouth, messing up the base of your shaft onto your musky-scented balls that soon averted her attention afterwards, fondling them gently as the pace is still wild and fast, eager onto achieving your promised land. She was too focused about getting you all bricked-up and stunned to the point that she forget about intimacy and affection, so, capturing your eyes for a moment with her, she stared at you deeply while still maintaining the ferocious pace of her bobs and it was just an arousing yet an endearing experience.

Her beautiful eyes really set your brain in a haywire as it’s the cherry on top within the service she’s doing between your legs. As much as her hair is disheveled, faint makeup getting ruined and her drooling messing up her pristine features, those orbs really send you under her spell and you love falling into it.

Such a pure face sullied with her own lustful actions as the beauty of it gets ruined yet it makes her go beyond it—she’s even more gorgeous with her messy countenance, moreso painting that beautiful face with your seed—

“God, slow down, Yujin—fuck—gahh, no one’s stealing me away from you—”

Yunjin ignores your plea as after a few bobs, she pulls herself out of your length and lets out ragged breaths, saliva strings and a pop as the cherry on top. “Scared because you can’t hold it in anymore? Also, y-you can’t blame me…”

“Hey! I can still hold it—fuck, shit, your mouth—too good—gah!”

Once she took your whole length in one, swift motion, you almost lost it there as the instant deepthroat made you weak. She started with a moderate pace yet it grew more frantic and sloppier as she’s now taking your whole length and it was a sight to behold. Within her wild pace is the endearing look of her, glistening, round black orbs and it just doesn’t help you—it’s just a scene to be cherished as you moan inevitably, forming a cacophony of music to her ears.

“You’re damn lucky with the genetics you had—having such a big dick but can’t last that long? Bit ironic, in my opinion.”

“Hey! You freaking liar—I can last longer than what you expect.”

“Fuck—yeah, can you? I can already feel you throbbing like crazy—mmph!”

“Just shut up and do your job, Yunjin.”

Yunjin was always the kind to tease and degrade you a little between your steamy sessions—whether it’s just a simple handjob up to the nastiest, freakiest sex session known to mankind—she will retain her attitude of being annoying and energetic.

Having enough of her childish remarks, you plunge in your length immediately as she instantly gagged, the sounds resonating around the puny room the both of you are in. She immediately took this as an aggressive retaliation against her own degrading antics and she didn’t mind, but rather put gasoline into the flames—her face further fucking it roughly onto your whole length, only withdrawing with the tip inside and then slamming it back in, balls-deep inside her mouth as her nose gets buried down on your abdomen in every thrust she do.

Yunjin can do it like no other and that’s the beauty of it. She’s in her own class and in another league when it comes to servicing you and her trademark, giving head. There’s something about her blowjobs that makes you weak and as well as getting addicted to it right away—is it the fact about the way she dances her tongue around your length? Or is it about the tight suction of her mouth that keeps you dangling above but not over the limit of your threshold? Is it the way she looks at you endearingly while sucking the living life out of your cock? Maybe all of them are—permuted or combined, it doesn’t matter.

Eager to reach your breaking point, she ends up becoming the whole masterclass of craft—a sight to behold; an action worth rejoicing. It’s rejuvenating and stimulating, and your sensitivity keeps chasing the edges of the roof as everything seems to be a little too much but nothing is never enough. With the constant drive of her lips onto the base of your shaft up to the tip, she slides it down effortlessly before deepthroating you like she wants to prove something—she doesn’t need to because she earned it all too well.

Between the frantic bobs; spilling of saliva; fondling of your balls and the captivating look of her eyes, you can’t help but feel that familiar tingle on your loins as it signals the near-coming of your orgasm. There wasn’t any talk that was happening as it was all just gags and slurps from Yunjin and just inevitable moans and groans on your side and soon, it will be too much to be contained.

“God, I’m s-so close, Yunjin. W-where do you want it?”

Yunjin didn’t pull out yet she didn’t ignore you—she gestured her hands, pointing it to her mouth as you knew what she wanted and that is to… cum inside her mouth (wasn’t it obvious?). Savoring the last seconds before your reaching your high, you held a vice grip on her hair as she fuck herself onto your cock faster than ever before and soon, it will be unshackled within any second now—

“God, I’m—fucking—cumming, Yunjin!”

You take control of her head, burying it down as her nose hugs your abdomen, forcing herself to smell the musky scent of your skin as you let everything out in her mouth. Your high was too euphoric as her heavenly mouth takes it all, painting her warm cavern—which is her throat—full of your seed. With the copious volume of your load, she’s unable to take it all as her gag reflex kicked in, forcing herself to pull out of your throbbing length as last shots of semen landed on her lips and some messing up her chin.

“Gahh—w-wow… You c-came a lot~ and it’s s-so—gahh—delicious too—mwah!”

She brushed her fingers onto the semen that splattered out of her chin and mouth as tasted it, humming soundly as she was satisfied with the richness and volume of your creamy load. Within two gulps, your seed was all gone, right into her stomach as she stuck out her tongue for further proof and you could only respond with a smile and ragged breaths.

“You’re—you’re a crazy girl, Yunjin… I can’t believe you really b-blew me off here.”

“Neither of us can help it, so fulfilling each other’s needs was just the endgame.”

She was audacious and needy, it’s all said in her eyes right from the start. She wasn’t really the type that takes risks but with her own judgment, fulfillment comes first and it was destined to be that way—and you’re happy it ended up that way.

Against all odds, she was willing to give you everything you need and so do you, but sometimes, it’s getting all too much.

“God, Yunjin—fuck, I’m still fucking sensitive!!”

“Kinda rude not to deposit another load, look—” Yunjin cupped your balls for a good measure between her dawdling strokes, causing you to groan in pain and pleasure. “—it’s still goddamn full.”

She pecks on your swollen head as her tongue dances around the veins of your throbbing shaft, “I’ll suck you off until these balls are drained enough for me to stop—you won’t stop me, right?”

You didn’t respond as you were getting to the point of being overstimulated, needy moans and small whimpers coming out of your mouth makes it so that Yunjin would even push you further than what you can take.

“Righ—fuck, Yunjin! Your mouth—fuck!”

She’s on her masterclass again—her merciless fucking of her mouth against your cock and the vice grip of your thighs—and it’s just getting out of hand. You let out gasps and needy cries as her pace conducts the definition of sloppy and needy and god, it’s such a beautiful sight seeing her face getting all messed-up again with her own frantic actions.

It was just the same plethora of moans, resonating gags, messed-up saliva and the harsh grips yet it’s still as hot as ever. You inevitably thrust a little, aiding to help your needs and her wants as she didn’t complain, but rather focused herself onto the actions she’s best at than blabbering out useless words that won’t help any one of you. With the growing libido and rejuvenated pleasure, your sensitivity is starting to come off faster than expected yet it was inevitably there, and you like it.

Just with the tongue teasing the frenulum is enough for your whole system to break down into pieces, what more if such high-class service was being served by the one and only Huh Yunjin—it’s going to be better than any buffet you’ve been to or anything you could think of.

You’re just into a state of bliss, a connection partaking in the class of a heavenly masterclass—a fervent paramount that you’re always thankful for whenever it’s in your hand’s reach.

The dexterity of her fingers never fails to amaze you as every stroke just makes everything better even though it’s already at the maximum extent. With the way her mouth glides up and down with ease, you can’t help but feel the utmost pleasure as every technique she does was just amazing—maybe even finding her series of serrated enamel fueling your masochistic needs.

“God—you can’t really help y-yourself too, huh?”

Yunjin took seconds to respond as she pulled out of your messy length, with strings of saliva connecting from her mouth to your tip as you were met by her sullied countenance. “You know I can’t resist you, even if it means to just drain your balls with my mouth.”

And she returned to the league of her own profanities and carnal needs as her mouth effortlessly took your whole length, giving you the best blowjob of your whole life. Whenever she withdraws from your cock, she plants torrid kisses onto your slit and your tip as you let out shallow breaths, an offspring from the pleasure you’ve experiencing. With this pace that Yunjin is maintaining, another inevitable approach is soon to be met, you unable to do anything and her embracing everything.

“Yunjin—I’m g-gonna cum again—please let me cum a-again in your mouth—fuck—please!”

With your begs and the profounded proposition, she immediately ejected herself onto your raging member, leaving it throbbing and helpless.

“Why don’t you just add to the mess I’ve made? It’s a bit rude now painting my face before ending this moment—so come on, cum on my face, paint every inch of me white with your hot, creamy load—please! I’m dying to feel your cum on my face—”

Between her dirty talk is the feverish and frantic strokes of her beautiful hands on your shaft and with that, you opted to paint her instead of giving her another throatpie.

Another pulchritude of a woman’s visage is bound to be sullied, and you can’t wait to add to the disheveled mess she already made herself into.

You can’t hold it anymore as for the last time (not really), shots and shots of thick, warm semen landed onto her beautiful face, nose, her glossy lips and some onto her neck and collarbones. The load was still rich and creamy, but it was not that copious compared to the earlier load you gave her balls-deep down her throat but neither of you complained, but rather, be thankful because of another gift.

“Gahh—ahh, that was amazing… So creamy still—how can you still blow a big load when you already like—blasted everything earlier?”

“You stimulated me too much, idiot, that’s why…”

She traces samples of your cum and goes onto her mouth, moaning delightfully as she was satisfied again with your delicious seed.

“And you loved it, of course~”

“Of course, Yunjin—aren’t those two, thick loads aren’t enough to put on a conclusion?”

“Of course it is, but we’re not done…”

“Yeah, you slut—let’s just go home because I’m fucking tired already thanks to you.”

“No worries, it’s my pleasure, hehe~”

You helped her clean up with your tissues and god, the both of you are probably just starting but it’s such an incredible end to an amazing oral session...

#kinknuary 2024 #le sserafim smut #huh yunjin smut #le sserafim x male reader #yunjin x male reader

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hazbinwhoree · 10 months ago

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Hiya ! Let me tell you first that I love your writings about Adam ! Our angel deserves some attention

I couldn't help but notice that there is a lack of hurt/comfort Adam fics 😠

Sooo I've been thinking (read this with Charlie's voice from the pilot) what about an Adam x reader arranged marriage fic ?

Like Adam is given a new wife from Heaven, he treats her really badly at the beginning but then kinda develops a soft spot for her ? Ending with the fluffiest softest smut you can make ?

Do we have a deal ? 😈

I Wanna Be Yours

Adam supposed he should be grateful, he wasn’t alone anymore, but Lilith and Eve had fucked him up so badly that he wanted nothing to do with his third wife. If he got too close, he’d fall in love, and then she’d leave him. So Adam did the opposite of getting close. He got mean.

(Name) was born yesterday. Created by God to be Adam’s third companion. She was born with pertinent information already in her brain, memories, and free will. Free will, and she still wanted nothing more than to be Adam’s wife.

He was so lonely, but he’d never admit it.

At first, Adam was just cold to her. But when that didn’t deter (Name) from trying to get close to him, he grew mean.

“I don’t want you, bitch!”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Piss off, I hate looking at you.”

It started wearing (Name) down. It hurt, he hurt her, constantly. She was growing to dislike him. She wished she could hate him, but she just couldn’t. It didn’t help that they lived together, though Adam had banished her to the guest room, not willing to share his king size bed.

One day, (Name) gave up. She decided she was done being verbally abused as she followed Adam around like a lovesick puppy. So that day, she didn’t follow Adam. She didn’t leave her house. In fact, she didn’t even leave her bed.

To Adam’s dismay, he was disappointed and slightly concerned when (Name) didn’t show up that day. She always followed him around. All day, every day. Adam hadn’t realized how comfortable he got with it.

When he came home that day, he peaked into her bedroom, finding her asleep. His brow furrowed, wondering why she hadn’t followed him today. Adam was going to ask, but (Name) didn’t wake up until morning.

By day four, after three days of cold silence from (Name), and her still not following him, Adam decided to go home early. He got home around noon to catch (Name) off guard, he was never home around noon.

He snuck into the house but didn’t see her anywhere downstairs. He climbed upstairs and peered into (Name)’s bedroom. Once again, that’s where he found her, still in bed.

“Okay, what the fuck,” he asked loudly, barging into her room.

(Name) jumped. When she registered Adam, she scowled. “Don’t scowl at me, bitch,” Adam spat. Something died in (Name)’s eyes and she just looked tired and sad. Adam softened.

“...Sorry.”

That got (Name)’s attention. Adam had never, ever said sorry to her before.

Adam came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” (Name) was appalled. “I’ll fucking tell you what’s wrong.” She sat up.

“I was created for the sole purpose of being your wife so that you would no longer be alone. That is my entire purpose, my whole identity. And you hate me. You’re literally all I have in life and you want nothing to do with me. You weren’t even just cold, you were mean. Nasty. I wish I hated you. But I still love you, and that fucking hurts.”

Adam was quiet for once in his life. He had never really thought about the consequences of his actions. He hadn’t seen (Name) so much as person as he did an annoyance that followed him around. Now here she was, a person. A being with thoughts and feelings. A being he’d been abusing.

He reached a gentle hand towards her and she recoiled. Adam winced. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I really am. I thought… if I got too close, you would leave me like Lilith and Eve did.” (Name) blinked at him. “I know that’s a shitty excuse,” Adam mumbled. “I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. I was a fucking coward, in trying to prevent myself from being lonely I made you lonely.” “You did more than that,” (Name) scoffed.

Adam looked ashamed. “Yeah… I’m so sorry. I want to start over. If… if you want that. I understand if you’re done with me, I definitely deserve it.”

(Name) contemplated for a moment. “We can start over,” (Name) said eventually. “But we start slow. I don’t like or trust you right now.”

Adam nodded eagerly. “That’s fair. (Name)?”

“Yeah?”

“Just start coming with me when I go about my day again.”

(Name) did, and over the next two weeks she would accompany Adam everywhere, not follow, because he kept his stride slow so that she could keep up. He talked to her, asked questions about her, got to know her. She quickly became a soft spot for him. It took a lot to not sabotage it out of fear, but Adam managed.

Two months in, and they’d kindled a relationship so well that they had sexual tension. They had yet to act on it, neither realizing that the other wanted it as much as them.

But this was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a long time, and with his high sex drive, it was incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much longer before he couldn’t contain himself anymore. He burst into her room randomly and announced, “I think I love you and I want to fuck you.”

(Name) put down her phone, wearing nothing but short shorts and a tank top, ready for bed. “I think I love you too, and I would very much like you to fuck me,” (Name) replied after a beat of silence.

Adam wasted no time, coming up to her bedside and picking her up bridal-style. “Adam, what–” “You’ve had your own room long enough. It’s time we share a bed. And what better way to consecrate it?” He smirked.

(Name) smiled, holding onto his neck. When they entered Adam’s room, he gently laid her down on his bed. He was going to take his time with this, he’d waited for so long he was going to savor every second.

He shed his mask, and (Name) gasped. She’d never seen him without his mask before. Adam looked slightly unsure of himself. “Kiss me,” (Name) breathed. Adam stood between her legs and bent over the bed to press his lips to hers sweetly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“You’re so pretty,” she whispered when he pulled back. Adam wanted to make a cocky comment, but decided against it for the sake of the moment. He pulled his shirt off, then undid his belt, kicking off his pants. Then he gently pulled (Name)’s tank top over her head, thrilled to finally see her bare rack.

But before he went for her chest, he pulled her shorts down and off. When they were both in their underwear, Adam picked (Name) up and threw her further on the bed. Then he climbed onto the bed and on top of her.

He connected their lips while his hands groped her chest. His tongue invaded her mouth and (Name) moaned. Adam kissed down her neck, her chest, until her reached her left tit, and latched on with his mouth. (Name) gasped as he sucked on her nipple, his hand reaching to roll her other nipple between his forefinger and thumb. (Name)’s fingers tangled in Adam’s hair.

He pulled off with a wet pop and moved to the other breast, taking it into his mouth as well. (Name) hummed sounds of affirmation as Adam gave her chest attention, sighing when he pulled back. Adam’s hand slid down her stomach and inbetween her legs and (Name) bit her lip. When Adam’s hand slipped under her panties and his fingers brushed against (Name)’s wet folds, she moaned. “You’re so wet,” Adam said lowly in her ear. “All for me.”

He entered two fingers inside of her, curling them. (Name)’s back arched a little bit. Adam added a third rather quickly, realizing briefly that her body had been made to fit with his perfectly. The thought almost made Adam sentimental.

Because of this fact he didn’t spend long fingering her. He was impatient, and he didn’t have to. She was already ready for him. He pulled her panties down and off before kneeling back to tug his boxers down. He shed those too and pressed their naked bodies together.

“I love you,” he said quietly, kissing her lips. “I’ll forever be sorry for how I was before. Let me make it up to you~”

(Name) whimpered when she felt his dick pressing at her entrance. Adam grabbed both of her hands in his, pinning them next to her head and intertwining their fingers. “Are you ready?” he asked, not sure how much longer he could wait.

(Name) nodded vigorously. Adam gently pushed his hips forward, slowly sinking into her heat. He groaned, his self-restraint waning. He bottomed out with a heavy sigh. “I love you,” he repeated. “Fuck. You're so tight.”

(Name) couldn’t reply, adjusting to Adam’s size. Once she did, she moved her hips a little bit. “Move,” she begged. Adam didn’t need to be asked twice. He slowly began to roll his hips, thrusting in and out slowly and sensually. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough, so it didn’t last long.

Adam’s hips picked up in pace and intensity. (Name) moaned everytime he drove into her. It was Adam’s new favorite sound. They were in missionary, Adam’s favorite position because he could stare at (Name) while they made love. He could drink in every little expression of pleasure on her pretty face.

(Name) squeezed the life out of Adam’s hands. Adam leaned down to suck love marks onto (Name)’s neck. (Name) threw her head back, giving him easier access while he marked her as his.

When he pulled back, he let go of one of (Name)’s hands, sneaking his now free hand down between them to rub circles around her clit with a slender finger. He relished in the look of pleasure (Name) made, jaw dropping and eyes rolling back. His hips didn’t lose their steady pace until (Name) moaned, “Faster!”

Adam began slamming into her, and with (Name)’s free hand, she clawed at his back. Every thrust hit deep and Adam timed pressure on her clit with every thrust. “Adam,” (Name) gasped. “I’m– nngh~ I’m close.”

“Fuck, me too,” Adam panted. He kept his pace steady, both of their orgasms steadily growing. (Name)’s moans became higher pitched. Adam’s groans grew more frequent.

Eventually, they were on the precipice together, calling out one another’s names as they climaxed. Adam came buried deep inside of her, and (Name) came on his dick. They froze for a moment afterwards, each trying to catch their breath. As they panted, coming down, Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s, staring deeply into her eyes. Watching her orgasm had made his euphoric. He kissed her softly, in contrast to the pace they’d just been going at.

“I love you,” (Name) said quietly.

Adam pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to her. “I love you too, (Name).”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #hazbin valentino #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty

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ssturniolo · 11 months ago

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Hi! First I would like to start by saying that I LOVE your writing and my request is one for Matt where basically they are all on tour and the reader gets like dizzy and passes out on stage and the they all like carry the reader off of the stage and then on like the socials people are like praising Matt for how calm he was being and like a fluffy ending pls and if you don't have time or just don't wanna do this that's fine also love your work again!

Dizzy

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Matt x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - nothing

You smile as the bright stage lights shine down, the crowd still going wild for the triplets. This being the last show, Matt asked you to be his partner which you happily accepted.

You’ve never been on tour before but it’s exceeded your expectations, although very stressful.

Matt tosses the basketball to you, snapping you out of your little trance. Standing up from your chair, you wobble a bit, your vision going fuzzy.

“You alright there love?”

“Mhm” you blink a few times before walking up to shoot. After missing the shot miserably once again, you return to your previous seat, feeling like absolute shit.

Suddenly, the lights felts extremely bright, the voices seemed painfully loud, and you didn’t think you had enough energy to shoot again.

You push yourself off of the chair with shaky hands, ready to make your way over to Matt. It’s not like this is the first time this has happened, you’ve felt like this on and off all day today and yesterday.

“I’m gonna go get water quick” you whisper to Matt after he finishes shooting.

“Do you want some of mine?” He offers, pointing at his nearly full water bottle sitting on the ground.

You just shake your head, making your way across the stage. Your vision has gone fuzzy again and your legs feel like jello as you grab for something, anything to hold you up. So close to making it off the stage; out of the sight of so many people but you couldn’t. And everything goes black.

A gasp echos around the room as the crowd watches you collapse, each of them angling their phones in your direction.

Matt is quick to sprint over to you, swiftly scooping you into his arms before carrying you bridal style off of the stage.

He lays you down on the couch in the triplets “break” room, his face twisted with concern. Luckily, it didn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open, immediately mortified of what just happened.

“I’m so so sorry Matt I tried to make it off stage, I really did” you apologize, covering your reddened face with your hands.

Matt takes a hold of your wrists, pulling them down.

“You don’t need to apologize honey, are you ok?”

Sighing, you squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to pull yourself together. “I think I just need to eat something” you eventually say.

“But I really really don’t want to go back out there” you add, afraid to disappoint him but too weak and embarrassed to go back onto stage.

“That’s ok my love, I’ll pull a fan from the crowd to be my partner” Matt smiles gently, placing sweet kisses on your knuckles.

“Matt” you say as he gets up to go back on stage.

“Hm?”

“I’m lowkey kinda excited for the edits. You’re my hero”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kinda different than what you asked but I hope you like it ! :)

XOXO - Zoe

Taglist ⬇️

@dwntwn-strnlo @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @mattestrella @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli

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lixiesfreckless · 1 year ago

Text

Love Shot | c. j.

➸ synopsis: Were you best friends with a cupid? Yes.

When your favorite cupid manages to shoot himself with his own arrow though, you realize you may be best friends with the clumsiest cupid in the heavens.

➸ starring: choi jiung x female reader

➸ word count: 2.5k words

➸ general content: cupid!jiung, the reader is a succubus(demon that typically appears in men's dreams or wakes them up to have sexual intercourse), there is somewhat of a power imbalance between the reader and jiung thanks to the latter's innocence, smut

➸ warnings: like one swear word, kissing, grinding, piv, creampie, corruption(?)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author's note: don't get it twisted, this was not self-indulgent(is lying), this was all for the beloved @ashonheavenscloud whose birthday was yesterday. welcome to the double decade club bestie <3

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don't need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but I really thought Touch by Keshi kind of encapsulated the thoughts/feelings in jiung's head.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, putting down your cherry-cola bottle on the kitchen peninsula. The man panting against the wall watches your every movement as he waits for you to speak.

“You went to a nightclub to finish your matchmaking quota, and forgot to make yourself invisible,” you recall, fighting a laugh, “and some drunk guy stumbled into you and you ended up shooting yourself?”

Jiung gulps and nods frantically, not having moved from the space next to your front door since you dragged him into your apartment, originally frightened by his helpless disposition. But now you slap a hand against your thigh, doubling over in laughter as you mull over the absurdity of his situation.

“And you came to me, of all people?”

“You’re the only person I thought wouldn’t laugh at me for something like this!”

“So sorry to disappoint,” you sigh, wiping a tear away. Jiung has half a brain to pout at you before he slides further down the wall, hands grasping at the flat surface for something to hold onto as his face contorts again.

“God, it just keeps getting more intense,” he nearly whines, eyes rolling back before his head falls forward. “What happens when a cupid shoots himself with his own arrow?”

“Right, ask the succubus if she knows why the silly cupid is in pain.” You remember the pain relievers in your cabinet, and decide to save your best friend, if only for a few hours.

“I’m not-” his breath hitches, and he bites down on his lip to muffle what you’re sure would have been a scream. “Do I look like I’m in pain?”

“Yes,” you nearly laugh again, incredulous at his stubbornness. He moves off the wall, nearly tumbling into your favorite chair with a whimper, and the sound makes you reconsider your answer. “Actually, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were-”

You halt your search for ibuprofen as you turn to look at Jiung, breathless and pink and slumped in a chair with his eyebrows knitted together. His uniform white button-down was nearly all the way unbuttoned now, and you remember Jiung claiming that you had raised the temperature of your apartment when you in fact, had not.

Holy shit.

Maybe he had come to the right person, albeit unknowingly.

“Jiung, I want you to be very specific this time,” you say slowly, closing the door of your cabinet and exiting the kitchen. “Tell me about when you started feeling this way.”

“O-Okay, um…”

You sit near him on a couch, eyes trained on him as he stares at the carpeted floor.

“I was walking home from the club; I left right after I got shot, because I was scared,” he explains through labored breaths, “and then I realized that I was nearing the hotel you’re staying at.”

You nod, not finding anything strange about that string of events.

“The…feeling started right after I thought about you, though.”

“What feeling?”

“Uh…” Jiung thinks for a moment before slapping a hand over his mouth, muffling what is probably the most desperate sound you've ever heard from him before continuing. “I don't really have a word for it? I'm just hot…and tingly all over…and a little dizzy.”

“And that started just because you remembered my hotel room?”

Jiung flushes an even deeper pink.

“...no.”

No?

Oh.

“Then what were you thinking of?”

He shakes his head, bouncing his leg against the chair.

You take note of his line of sight and leave the couch, kneeling on the ground beside his legs. He quickly averts his gaze, not wanting to stare at your shorts or your thighs or your anything, afraid the feeling will only get worse.

“Jiung,” you whisper, taking his hand off of the armrest and holding it, “it's okay. You can tell me.”

“I can't.”

“You can.” You stand up and brush some strands of hair away from his face, giving you a clear view of his blown out pupils as you lean over him and rest one hand on the chair. His eyelashes flutter at your touch, but he still won't look at you, so you gently grasp his chin and lift it.

He looks into your eyes for all of three seconds before his resolve shatters.

“I thought about you when you came back from work the other day,” he confesses, not breaking eye contact. “You were wearing this tight dress and you looked so pretty in it, and I wanted to…” He trails off and bites his lip, and you can't tell if he's withholding his thoughts from you again or if he genuinely has no clue what he wanted.

“You wanted to…?”

“God, I don't know. I just wanted you close to me.”

From how you're holding his chin, you allow your thumb to move upwards slightly, sliding against his plush pink bottom lip. He blinks at you rapidly and shivers, not sure what to make of the way you're staring at his mouth.

“Jiung, is it okay if I kiss you?”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, legs finally stilling.

“S-Sure,”he whispers, eyes darting all over your face once you start to lean closer, “I don't know how that would help, but-”

“Just let me know if you want me to stop,” you cut him off, and he fully relaxes back into the chair before you lightly graze your lips against his.

His eyes flutter shut and you get to work, leaning in fully and pressing your mouth to his as your hand slips behind his neck, tangling itself in ash-colored locks that reside there. Jiung has seen humans kiss before, but he's never paid it any mind, never understanding why they would want to embrace each other in that way. Now, he's never understood them more as he reacts so quickly to your touch, whimpering the moment your lips lock and trying to suppress the shivers that run through his body at the trace of your tongue.

The feeling of your mouth on his is borderline euphoric, tendrils of heat licking at every part of him before you tilt his head, allowing you access to the inside of his mouth as your lips slant against his. He doesn't know why he had never wanted to do something like this with you; in this moment he feels as though he could die a happy man, with your hands tugging on his tresses.

And then you were doing something different, something worse; you start leaving kisses in other places too, against his cheek, against his jaw, even up by his ear, a place that was so sensitive that he felt that he might explode once your lips brush against it.

“Jiung, do you know why you started to have this feeling after you thought about me?” You whisper, leaving a kiss right below his earlobe. The hand that was holding you up off the chair moves to his jean-clad thigh, and Jiung can barely choke out a response.

“N-No?”

“It's because you got turned on,” you explain, now moving your lips down to his even more sensitive neck. God, is there a place you could touch him where he wouldn't feel like exploding?

“Turned on? Like a computer?” You laugh against his neck and nod, and he gets drunk on the melody of your voice, wondering how you'd sound if the roles were reversed. “How do I turn myself off?”

“You need a release.”

“How do I…” he pauses, hardly able to catch his breath. “How do I do that?”

“First you need to build up tension,” you say, slowly sliding your hand up his thigh. “Like this.”

Before he can ask what you're doing, your fingers find his clothed erection, gently adding pressure in a way that has his insides twisting. Kissing seems to ease some of the burning feeling he was experiencing, but this? Already he’s starting to feel some relief.

“Doesn't that feel good?” You purr, pressing harder and earning a needy whine from him.

“That feels…”

Unbuttoning his waistband, you pull down his fly and slip your hand inside, grasping him fully over his boxers. The cupid gasps under you, obviously not prepared for the feeling of your cool fingers around his girth.

“Better?” You ask, squeezing him for good measure.

“Better,” he groans, not being able to tear his eyes away from the sight of your hand on his crotch. Once you start moving your hand again however, he's about to lose himself in the sensation before he looks up, noticing your concentrated demeanor.

“Are you turned on too?”

“Yes,” you nearly chuckle, finding his naïveté endearing. “Ideally it goes both ways.”

“Then let me help you release too,” he pleads, guilt following the wave of pleasure that crashes over him. “I don't wanna be selfish.”

Poor sweet Jiung. Always thinking of others even when he practically has a temptress within reach.

Removing your hand from his pants, you pull back and push his knees together, and before he can whimper at the complete loss of your touch, you kick off your slippers and cage his hips with your knees, straddling him. He doesn't see how this is supposed to build tension until you sit down fully, connecting your hips together and adding back the pressure that he craves so desperately.

You take one of his hands that's gripping the armrest and pull it towards you, guiding him to cup one of your breasts over your camisole.

“Just be gentle and go slow,” you instruct, leaning back in to kiss him despite his widened eyes, “the key is being able to read your partner.”

He barely nods before you're driving him crazy again, slotting your lips together and kitten licking the inside of his mouth. He finds himself kissing back with less restraint, returning your ministrations in earnest and noticing how your breath catches every time his teeth tugs against your bottom lip.

After a few seconds of heated kissing, he tests the waters with a light squeeze of his occupied hand, and a sound he could only describe as absolutely mesmerizing falls from your lips. Subsequently, all reservations he has suddenly evaporates, selfishly wanting to hear you more.

And as he gently massages you, pulling different sounds from you depending on how he caresses you, he thinks back to that dizzying moment on the street. He had never thought about you in that way, had never understood why your tight clothing drew men like moths to a flame, could not see how your particular cadence of speaking was so hypnotizing to the human ear.

Now, with you on top of him and starting to grind your hips over his, he wishes that damned arrow had shot him sooner.

“Can I…” he breathes, unlocking your lips for a moment, “can I kiss you in other places too?”

You nod and move your fingers downward, desperate to unbutton the rest of his shirt and get rid of it.

He's hesitant at first, but the way you're moving on top of him dissolves his shyness and he leans in, ghosting his lips above your pulse point.

He starts to leave kisses just as you undo the last button.

“Jiung,” you whimper, pushing his dress shirt back to hold him by his bare shoulders. His entire body ignites at the sound of your needy voice, his free hand quickly leaving the armrest in favor of gripping your waist. A sense of urgency fills his veins, and although he can't understand what all the rush is for, he can't help but want to please you as fast as he can, desperate to hear his name uttered in such a way again.

You're grinding down on him hard now, driving the cupid absolutely insane while he kisses any skin he can find. His skin is borderline feverish as you grip him tight, determined to reach your own high alongside his.

If Jiung is anything though, he's a damn good listener.

He's only had a few minutes to observe your reactions to his ministrations, and yet he feels as though he's been intimate with you for years, already knowing the ways you prefer to be touched and kissed. So he does exactly what you need him to, hands slipping under your top to run his thumbs along your bare chest, rubbing gentle circles against your hardened buds.

You cry out in beautiful agony, collapsing into his shoulder as you reach your climax. Even the heaven’s chorus doesn't compare to your voice; he doesn't think he could get drunk off of a sweeter sound.

As you come down from your high, you fumble with Jiung’s pants, lifting yourself off of him temporarily to pull them down along with his boxers, just enough so that his length springs free. You don't hesitate to discard your shorts before climbing back onto him and taking it into your hand, hardly giving him any time to react as you sink yourself down onto him. Thanks to your slippery arousal, the action is done with hardly any resistance, and your hips meet his in record time as he gasps.

The sensation proves to be way too much for the cupid however, since after you sink down on him, he only lasts three seconds in your wet warmth before tipping his head back, his face the picture of bliss as he paints your insides white with a drawn-out moan.

The room finally falls silent again, both of you taking in the recent events as you try to catch your breaths. A part of you says you should probably get off of him, but a much louder part of you yells at you to stay put, wanting to relish this shred of intimacy you've been granted.

“How long do the effects of your arrows usually last,” you gasp out, still sensitive and hyper aware of his presence inside you.

“I'm not…that powerful yet,” he sighs, breath hitching slightly as you shift on top of him to look at him. He's a gorgeous mess, hair disheveled, face flushed, and lips swollen. You never thought you'd be able to see your best friend like this, even after years of daydreaming about it. “A couple days max, from what I can tell.”

Damn, that's not as long as you'd hoped. But, with the nature of heaven’s laws, you suppose you should be grateful for this minor slip-up.

“I still have a few vacation days left,” you casually throw out, avoiding eye contact for the first time all night. “You know…in case you'd wanna-”

Jiung doesn't hesitate this time, leaning in to catch your lips with his once more.

extra author's note: I've had this idea for a while, but I've always wanted to know if anyone else has pondered what the effects of a cupid's arrow would do to a cherub. in my head, cupids can't really feel the full range of human emotions/desires because they aren't human. so taking the effect from an arrow, that on a human, would cause someone to become hopelessly infatuated with someone else, would just unlock those emotions/desires that were unobtainable before for a cupid...? don't think about it too hard, this is all in good fun(and to torture my bestie ofc <3)

#choi jiung #p1h #p1harmony #jiung #jiung x reader #choi jiung x reader #p1harmony smut #smut #kpop smut #p1h smut #jiung smut #lixiesfrecles smut

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jensengirl83 · 9 months ago

Text

At First You Don't Succeed

Dean x reader

Word Count-827

Warnings- language

Summary- Dean forgets the reader's birthday and he tries to make it up to her. But nothing he tries seems to go his way.

Y/N sat at the table in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. She was the first one awake, giving her some time alone and time to think. Dean had gotten back to the bunker very late and crashed. It had been a rough hunt, and she knew how those always seemed to take a toll on him. But she was still a little hurt. Yesterday had been her birthday, and he’d forgotten.

“Morning, babe,” Dean’s voice rang out in the empty room.

“Morning,” she mumbled, trying to hide the hurt in her tone.

“What’s up?” he asked, knowing something was wrong. She was never that short with him. Especially when he had just returned from being away for over a week.

“Nothin’. I’m good. Did you sleep well?”

He lifted his brow in concern and confusion. He knew she was lying him, but he didn’t know what, or who, had bothered her. That was until he glanced down at his phone after he had poured his coffee.

“Fuck!” he grumbled under his breath.

He’d missed her birthday.

“What?” she asked, hearing him mumble something.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, babe. Just stubbed my toe,” he answered quickly, hoping she didn’t know he was lying, “I, uh, I’m going to go clean my guns.”

He hastily made his way out of the kitchen before she could say anything. He didn’t want to get caught in his lie or see the look of disappointment on her face he knew would surely be there. He hated to make her sad or hurt her feelings, and he had done both for sure. He was going to make it up to her, beg her forgiveness, and hope they could salvage the day. What he didn’t know was nothing he had planned would work out in his favor at all.

He had tried running her bath after leaving the kitchen that morning, only to get distracted while looking something up on his phone and the entire bathroom flooded with the overdrawn tub. The second thing he’d tried that day was making her lunch and bringing it to her in bed. The lunch part had gone fine until he was three feet from the bed, dropping the plate and spilling the food all over the floor. The giggle that left Y/N had made him mad for a second, but he would keep trying.

Trying once again, he’d gone to buy her flowers. They didn’t have her favorites, so he grabbed a bouquet of ones he thought she would think was pretty. Yet again, that had blown up in his face when he brought them home to her, reaching from behind his back, a proud grin on his face, to learn that she was allergic to that type of flower. With a huff of defeat and annoyance, he left to try one more thing.

Y/N walked into the kitchen that evening, her jaw dropping at the hurricane of ingredients and utensils strewn around the room. It was a complete mess, but she couldn’t help but smile. Standing in the middle of the chaos was Dean, holding the cake he had made her. A shy smile on his face.

“Uh,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous, “I know it’s not pretty and it probably tastes like shit, but I tried. Hopefully this isn’t going to end like everything else I tried today.”

“Dean,” she sighed happily, walking over and cupping his face in her hands, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say perfect. I just hope you like it, sweetheart. And I’m sorry I forgot your birthday. I was just so tired from the hunt, and I just wanted to get home to you and…”

She interrupted him, crashing her lips to his, pulling away to look at him. Damn, how she loved this man. Yes, he forgot her birthday, but he always carried the world on his shoulders. She really couldn’t be mad that he forgot, considering he’d always remembered every other time. As she looked at him, the little smirk on his face, she began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a little miffed that she was laughing at his attempt to make her birthday up to her.

“I’m sorry, but Dean, you have to admit, all the failed attempts today are a little funny.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” he groaned, “I really tried to make it up to you, and nothing would go right.”

“Aww, babe. You did make it up to me. The fact that you tried that hard, whether it failed or not, shows me that you care. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Well, shit. If I knew that, I would’ve given up a long time ago,” he laughed when she swatted his arm, “Now, let’s eat this fugly ass cake, and then I’ll show you my last idea of how I’m going to make it up to you.”

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester

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darbonime · 4 days ago

Text

reunion

contains: smut, blowjob, a bit of fluff, ya’ll just read.

word count: 3.9k

A notification with message appears on his phone. Alex noticed it only because he was monitoring the phone all day. Usually, he doesn’t give a shit about the phone in general, it’s always somewhere and he doesn’t know where and he’s fine with it. But today she must have come back. Finally.

She is away in Paris with one of her colleagues. It is about work. Alex didn’t show it back then, when she said about that trip, but he wasn’t excited, considering that there’s some man colleague with her. He was respectful about it, and he had no choice anyway. His grouchiness became more evident though. He has that habit of mumbling something under his nose, that habit is a common thing for him like other ones – overthinking or trying to keep everything bottled up.

“They say it’s snowing hard in London. No way we fly today. Flight is delayed.”

The message made him groan quietly. He runs hand over his face slightly shaking his head in disappointment. It is showing hard. Alex glances at the window. He can see blurry buildings and streetlights, rushing people and lots of show. He thought about it even in the morning while he had a cup of coffee. He wasn’t a fan of snow or rain. He was a simple man at this point. He liked the sun. It just shines and doesn’t try to make any trouble for you.

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to come back today.” Another message.

He just puts the phone away. Tired sigh sounds all over the room. He gets up from the stool in the kitchen and moves to the bedroom with bitterness inside and a lump in the throat. The light is turned off everywhere. He climbed into bed, making the sheets rustle in the silence of a room. In the silence of the apartment. It drove him right to the edge slowly. Alex sighs deeply again and just places an arm over his face. Curtains don’t let in a lot of light in the bedroom and that pressuring on him too.

He didn’t want to be clingy. Just, a week has passed already. He really did miss her. And that man. He should have said about his concerns before, she would have listened to him, reassured him. She always does. Now he regrets it. It’s always so tough to let out the words when it’s not singing. His body needs familiar warm of her body. The soft affectionate tone she has. Who would have thought he got so anxious without her presence, even though it’s just one week? When did he miss the moment, he got so attached?

Next day he woke up in no mood as previous days exactly. The stress caused him to have some unpleasant and creepy glimpses of dreams that bothered his sleep and made him toss and turn. He didn’t go straight to the phone making himself wait not desiring to see there any other possible unpleasant news. He brushed his teeth, made the bed tidy as possible and then made coffee. The weather outside was peaceful compared to yesterday. No snow. And the sun is out. Alex couldn’t stop tiny smile from appearing.

He finally sat down sipping coffee not needing any more for a breakfast, scratched his own side a bit and shirt lifted a bit revealing hint of skin that has been untouched for long. He picked up the phone from exactly where he left it. Alex noticed a few messages from yesterday and a few texts from today thirty minutes ago.

“I had an awful night in the airport hotel.”

“But now we stand in the queue for boarding!”

“I’m really concerned that you didn’t answer yesterday…”

“Hope you just was sleeping already.”

That woman has a habit of texting few messages instead of just big one. Alex exhaled scrolling down.

“Remember the plan! I will wait for you in the airport.” That last message has emoji of kiss in the end of it, and he grins stupidly.

They do have a plan. He will pick her up at the airport. Maybe, he will be polite enough and give that colleague guy a ride to the tube. Just maybe. But he would prefer not to.

Now Alex feels contented, a bit giddy. The woman he loves deeply is going home. He hopes the sky is clear and the flight is good. She gets nervous during take off and turbulence, when they fly together, he always holds her hand. That guy better not get touchy… As thought crosses his mind, he feels a twinge of distress but doesn’t let it escalate. He gets up and washes the cup after coffee.

The thoughts of possible ways of reuniting fill his mind. A dinner together finally, and then a movie, or maybe making love instead of movie. A little trace of smirk on his lips.

He looks around slightly. Alex has nothing to do in the apartment. Its clean, because he’s the most careful and neat man on a planet, probably, in comparison to her. She’s a certified mess. When they just started living, he thought it’s a hell. They had lots of arguments about it. Now they are both came to terms with that. She tries to be cleaner, and he tries to be calm about the way she makes a mess everywhere. Though it’s lonely without her chaos, he thinks.

The lingering smell of cigarettes is usual for their place. It’s the only thing that ruins the neatness of their place. Alex smokes on the balcony but strong and bitter smell is is apartment’s air lingers there always as on his hair and clothes.

He starts to get ready, wanting to look a bit better than usual. Clothes, perfume. That one was her present on the previous Christmas for him. She said back then that she had no idea what to buy, but that one made her think of him, and he accepted the perfume with a sincere smile and grown quite fond of it. That perfume is dim with a woody undertone and doesn’t cause headaches for both of them. He hoped she would notice the perfume. Alex slips into his grey coat wrapping a scarf around his neck and fastening the buttons. Keys in his hands already. Glancing in the mirror and fixing hair he left the apartment.

When he leaves the building, the wind is enveloping him, it’s howling in his ears, and for a second he closes eyes feeling a shiver, trying to adjust to the freezing-ass weather. Alex gets in the car as soon as possible rubbing his hands and starting the car.

The ride was calm, he had gotten into small traffic because of the yesterday snow, but it quickly dissolved. Near the airport he became nervous. Lots of people, lots of cabs.

“Bloody ‘ell.” he mumbles, running fingers through his tousled hair driving slowly parallelly to exits of airport.

Alex scans the place to find some corner to park the car. He was going to park the car, and like a civilized person meet her inside of the airport. Exactly as they planned. Until he saw a familiar face with a wide grin. Contrast loud knock in the window. Nothing can be normal with her… He chuckles and leans to open the passenger seat.

“Alex!” she exclaimed slamming the door shut making Alex flinch slightly. She throws bag on the backseat and then tugging his face placing an unexpected kiss right on his lips. He hummed surprised in kiss trying to back away gently.

“Love– “ a honk can be heard from the back as other driver waiting for a way to drive. “Aye, I’m drivin’! For fuck’s sake...” he grumbles starting to drive. “Hate airports. So hectic.” says Alex as they start to leave the airport behind.

She stares at him with a satisfied full smile. She’s finally home. Familiar London, familiar atmosphere, familiar grumpy Alex that hates bustle. She is clearly happy to see him after all that week. He wasn’t the one who was missing the closeness. It’s mutual. Snow is starting to fall outside again, but it’s a light one. It sparkles and makes her mesmerized a bit. She pats his knee lovingly.

“So… Christmas soon. Did you decorate our cozy little place?” she teases him slightly.

He glances at her, making out only the one sound. “Uh…”

Speaking of bustle and Alex. Christmas is a bustle. A fuss. Tiring and loud. He doesn’t like Christmas. But she likes only Christmas out of all holidays. So, anything for her. They always decorate their apartment and that makes her light up like one of the lights on the garland. She always tries everything to do herself and he always stands behind to catch or help her, because he is still having it bad for her. That’s why a week without her makes him ache and that’s why he will help her make their place shine like a goddamn Christmas tree.

“No comments. I got it.” she chuckles, shaking her head amused.

Silence settled in the car. Alex wanted to ask about Paris, about that guy. She mentioned the guy even before the trip; she thought he’s a good employee in their field, also that he was like a puppy around her and too friendly. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t against gentleman behaviour. It just doesn’t sit right with him. There’s no fear that she will cheat. But crossing thoughts in his mind about some subtle caresses that this guy could try on her, the gentler tone he might talk with her, just the possibility made him annoyed, and he couldn’t help himself.

“That colleague, the one ya had a trip with, where is he by the way?” he asks with slight grumpiness, throwing a glance at her.

“Got a cab for himself.” she says casually shrugging, and he nods. Good, that he went his way, he thinks.

She looks at him, seeing the light frown hanging on his beautiful face, sensing something is up.

Ride is continuing, the hum of car is stable. His one palm lying securely but relaxed and confident on a leathered wheel, while the other one placed on his thigh. Eyes passing over changing scenery concentratedly taking everything in. The palm on a wheel runs over it gracefully and effortlessly from time to time. She bets he has no idea that even the way he drives the car is an art.

Snow is still falling creating the festive atmosphere. People rushing outside nestled in lots of clothes. There are middle-aged women sitting on the bench and gossiping, some man is carrying a Christmas tree on his shoulder trying his best and few girls with coffee cups laughing. Snow is crunching underfoot. Garlands are on windows in people’s apartments; storefronts are decorated already making it hard to skip them. Holiday is in the air.

When they get back into apartment, she finally breaks the ice addressing elephant in the room. “Al, is something wrong? You seem down.”

Alex sighs brushing the snow off the coat. And kicking the boots off after placing them together neatly. He didn’t really want to discuss it. It wasn’t something that needed to be discussed, he thinks. It will pass soon because she’s here so why he should worry about anything? There’s absolutely no need to show how vulnerable he is without her. Everything is under control. Right?

“Okay, that sigh is already means that something is wrong.” she is trying to prepare herself mentally for tough talk. Making a few strides towards him she puts her palms onto his slightly sagged shoulders.

“It’s ‘kay.” he mutters with low voice of his, eyes running over everything in the apartment but not her face. Wall, door, own hands.

She sees him through. At least now. He is too sophisticated to see throughout him fully. It’s impossible to know him completely and that upsets her. The desire to know every corner of his mind, every little fast thought in his gorgeous mind, every favourite places on his body. Entirely. Mentally and physically.

His lovely eyes are lying now.

“Al, look at me.” she cups his cheeks feeling stubble with her palms.

She makes him look at her and sees the deepest vulnerability in them, the apologize for that vulnerability, barely noticeable shame that he tries to hide so hard. Her own eyes are filling with sorrow and pain for him.

She wraps her arms around his neck pulling him in the balmy embrace and Alex leans in without a second thought. His face finds the base of her neck sensing her scent and sugary perfume. His arm is wrapping around her waist, and other hand is cupping the back of her head feeling her with all body as they pressed to each other. She runs her nose slowly and tenderly over his collar blade leaving a light kiss in the end. They don’t talk, just absorb each other’s warmness, sharing energy and love between each other.

She hums sniffing his neck. “The one I got for you on previous Christmas.” she affirmed and a little smiles creep on his face, pleased that she noticed the detail.

She backed away from him just a bit keeping him close, finding his face with her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” her loving, yet firm and demanding answer gaze, made him run finger into his hair anxiously under the force of her stare.

“Jus’ missed ya. That colleague guy also didn’t make any good for me…” his voice deeper as he uses all willpower to talk, but falters at the end of the thought his wants to express. He breathes out heavily shaking his head and his fingers in the hair again just trying to be composed now messing them to the different sides. “I don’t know.” he lets out a quiet chuckle, as he is at a loss for words, he looks up at her. His hand, a bit rough and calloused, reaches for her chin making few light caresses only to lower it down back on her waist again.

Her eyes darting over his face, over every wrinkle that formed on his face with age, contemplating his little awkward smile. No, that man for sure doesn’t know how cute he is. His barely noticeable smile made her smile too as reassuring him. She leans leaving a careful kiss in the corner of his dry lips after chilly wind outside.

“So… My colleague.” she begins watching his reaction.

“Jus’ don’t like him.” he mutters a short answer with a loud exhale. “He seems… I don’t know… Have no explanation.” Alex would like to stop there and not escalate the talk, and she senses it, nodding. Her delicate hand strokes his shoulder, making him at peace. Tranquillity is settling in his body and soul, making anxiousness and frustration disappear. He feels better now. Messy thoughts left his mind. All is residing is coziness and intimacy.

She leans in to kiss him properly after all the days of forced separation, and he can’t turn down the kiss. At the beginning the kiss is sweet and silky. Further gripping the waist harder, he insists a bit more, closing the eyes falling further into the kiss. The intimate moment makes them melt into each other completely. Demanding a deeper kiss, he senses she opens her mouth for him so he could slip the tongue inside. The warmth of her mouth and sensation of her tongue against his is making him desperate and hungry for prolongation.

She can’t stop only on lips determined to continue she carefully tilts his neck for a better access and keeps the palm there keeping his head on one place, her thumb caresses slowly the length of his neck which makes Alex breath out shakingly.

“On the couch…” she throws softly leading him to their living room. The scent of cigarettes is still there. The room has a dim light from the street, soon it gets dark. “Sit down, baby. Relax.”

He knows what is going to happen and he can say undoubtedly, there’s no better reunion than he could imagine. As Alex settles on couch, she is on his lap, nipping his neck very lightly to tease him. His hand instinctively sneaks under her sweater lingering on her lower back knowing he will get an instant reaction – she arches gripping his shoulder firmly.

“Alex…” she clenches shirt on his shoulder a bit harder, letting out half a hiss and half a whimper.

That’s what he thought, ghost smirk is on his lips. He doesn’t bother to answer, everything is clear for both of them. His breath is stuck in his throat as she slips down on the floor. What a sight. She’s on her knees fidgeting with button and zipper on his jeans, quite persistent to take them off as quickly as possible. He shifts on a couch closer to her so she can do it faster.

“Yes, sit on the edge of the couch…” she mumbles encouraging him.

Her fingers trembling a bit from excitement as she rushes to free him. She feels his obvious arousal that is begging to be out of imprisonment. Separation made him more sensitive, and his patience is wearing off.

She doesn’t stand on ceremony tugging his jeans down and off when she finally could concentrate and deal with button and zipper. The view of familiar pair of dark blue boxers makes her even more eager. She starts with peppering kisses on his thighs. Sensitively, slowly, to show how much she craves him, she knows he needs it. He lets out groan and his hand grips the edge of couch.

Her index finger hooks the elastic of his boxers only to snap it back. Alex huffs and his other hand is finding her head gripping hair a bit tugging her a bit closer to the prominent bulge.

“Don’t… Just, please…” his voice is husky and gruff, the need is obvious, and she can’t refuse.

She pulls out his strained cock, lowering boxers down. Making a ring of her fingers she moves it over his length, from the base to the tip and back, his hips meet her hand halfway letting out a curse. Her mouth is dealing with wet tip already, leaving feather kisses with attentiveness yet relaxed expression on her face, clearly enjoying it, licking off even the smallest amount of liquid.

“Fuck me.” he hisses through teeth clenching the handful of her hair, carrying away already. His head is tilting back on the back of the couch, as she changes the tactic now moving her full palm over his cock. Slowly at the beginning, and faster then. He lifts his head slightly to observe her. She looks up at him, only to see his flushed face and hooded dark eyes and heavy breath escaping his mouth.

She stretches her lips around his cock and starts taking him into warmth of her mouth, starting to finally suck him. Rough and hoarse moan left his lips, as his cock is burying deeper and deeper with each second. Only he thought he would reach the sweet back of her throat, when she pulled it out with wet pop making him groan and unconsciously gripping the hair harder in the process. She is taking long slow licks, lapping along all shaft, torturing him and at the same time making his body shudder in delicious pleasure. The bend of her tongue is feeling every vein tracing the form swirling at the tip which brings him closer to the edge with every second.

With no words he nudged her head closer making her open mouth wide again and starting thrust his hips into her throat collectedly taking the control. Letting out whispered curses under breath mixed with intense moans, Alex shakes his head, trying to get rid of dizziness. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to move them away from sticky with sweat forehead. Muffled moans sneak out from her full mouth, spit from corners of mouth messing the couch and few droplets fell on the floor already. Her hands grip his tensed thighs feeling how heated his body had gotten.

Slight twitches of his cock inside her mouth are telling about how close he is. She feels her jaw is getting tighter and it’s hard to take the full length, but she knows there is no way out. She moves her head just further, shutting her eyes as he is stuffing her mouth fully with no more room inside left. He moans gravelly shifting his hips, finally hitting the back of her throat. The room was filled with sloppy sounds, her dull moans, and his in contrast loud moans. It is already darker outside, so in the room. If a person would walk in, they would only make out two dark silhouettes in moment of pure lust and the long-awaited connection.

“Open eyes.” he breathes heavily, overwhelmed with sensation. Alex makes a light tug of hair trying to get her attention. “Look at me, darlin’.” his thick voice is carrying desperation for release.

When she opens her glassy eyes, looking up he pushes a bit more, letting out an immediate moan, going senseless over how tip of shaft is feeling against her throat. Alex follows with his eyes her parted mouth and can’t hold back anymore. He can’t hold back anymore.

“Just a– “ strained load moan interrupts his speaking; he is gasping for air as his hand grips her hair keeping head in the right place spilling into her, he moves his hips a couple more times to ride out the orgasm and then he stops. She shuts her eyes again feeling tears in the corner of eyes. He pulls out his cock, licking his lips feeling they sting because of dryness and wipes forehead with back of palm.

Swallowing him down, she blinks few times trying to have a full breath after whole experience, looking up at him she notices that he is already leaning to help her get on her feet.

“C’mon, love. Get up. Come here, floor ‘s cold.” Alex tugs her on his lap, his shoulders a bit drooped after release, but he still is making sure to take care of her.

The room is quiet now, harshly quiet in comparison how it was seconds ago. She climbs on his lap, sensing familiar close scent and tenderness, nestling her head against his chest she closes her eyes trying to gain energy for existing at least for few minutes before she dozes off as always after intimacy. He leans on the couch feeling gratified, he wraps her arms around her securely.

“Okay?” he mumbles, not ruining the stillness of the moment.

She only hums, and her hand reassuringly strokes his chest.

“I carried away…” Alex murmurs, trace of guilt is clear in his deep honey-like voice. She shakes her head.

“I wanted to give you a release. And I don’t only mean the physical one.” she whispers drowsily. He sighs, just hugging her tighter.

She knew back then he didn’t tell her the entire truth. He did need a release, in both ways. And now he had it.

a/n: i finally got unshadowbanned thanks tumblr. i was changing plot during writing and i still have no clue if i like it.

#alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner fluff #alex turner smut

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urdepressedslut · 2 years ago

Text

Off Day

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky helps comfort you after you’ve had a bad day.

♡ Warnings: fluffy, angst, hurt/comfort, injury to reader, slight self hate, language

A/N: in my perfect world, everyone is still alive because i just can’t handle the truth 🤪

You ever just have a day where nothing goes right?

It started the moment you had woken up, a random sharp pain shooting up your back. The ache causing you to grimace, the pain already putting you off.

You thought to yourself of the possible reasons for the random ache. You had done your normal workout yesterday, having your usual walk through the city. You grabbed coffee with the boys, then went over to Sarah’s. It was all part of your routine.

Giving yourself time to fully wake up, you tried to brush away the pain— determined to move on with your day.

You had showered, gotten dressed and headed to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast. Everything was going smoothly, until it wasn’t.

The coffee maker was acting up. You stood waiting— unplugging and plugging the machine. All your attempts were useless, as the coffee maker still wasn’t working. You went to put your mug away, when all of a sudden the ceramic slipped from your fingers— crashing to the floor.

You reacted by clenching your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. You were trying not to lose it. Were your fingers slippery? You were never this clumsy.

“Just take deep breaths. Everything’s fine.” You muttered to yourself.

Despite your achey back, you got on your hands and knees— cleaning up the mess you made. What a morning.

After helping Tony and Bruce in the lab, you headed back to your room to get ready for lunch. You had made plans with your friend, Elena. You hadn’t seen her in forever, and you both finally made time to see each other.

You took a quick shower, now staring into your closet— trying to decide on what to wear. You didn’t have time to think too hard on your outfit, because your phone vibrating on your dresser got your attention.

Reading the caller ID, you saw it was Elena.

“Hey girl, what’s up?” You answered, walking back over to the closet— phone to ear.

“Hey so um… I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today.” She told you.

Your face instantly dropped, disappointed that you weren’t going to be able to see her. You had really missed her.

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you mad?” Elena hesitantly asked.

“No, not at all. It’s just been a rough day and I was really looking forward to seeing you.” You assured her, trying to keep your tone light.

You really wanted to say, ‘Hey girl, my days been pretty shit so far— I really fucking miss you.’

You heard her sigh in relief over the phone.

“I’m sorry babes, something came up at work and I can’t push it aside. I already have gotten written up twice.” She told you, and you could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“Damn Elena, what trouble are you getting into?” You joked.

“Absolutely nothing. Just my fists dealing with some sexist workers, that’s all.” She explained so casually.

“Wow, respect.” You hummed proudly.

“Anyways, let’s catch up soon. For now, I gotta go. Love ya!”

“Bye.” You said solemnly, hanging up.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your thumbs. You were frustrated with how everything was turning out for you. You were frustrated with today.

“The universe is punishing you. I’m sure of it.” You mumbled to yourself, slipping on some leggings and a plain red shirt.

You totally skipped the idea of lunch, heading back downstairs to the lab. You just wanted the day to end, so you could start over tomorrow.

The universe was indeed punishing you, as things went from good to bad real quick in the lab.

It was simple really. Tony asked for you to grab a tool. You had blindly stuck your hand in the cabinet, reaching for said tool when all of a sudden you felt a sharp stinging in your hand.

“Ah fuck!” You ripped your hand out, inspecting the damage.

You should’ve been surprised, but how the day had went so far— you didn’t even blink an eye. There was a deep gash in your palm, bleeding freely.

“You okay (Y/n)?” Bruce ran over, worried eyes on you.

You waved him off, trying to hide your hand.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just stubbed my finger on something.”

Tony walked up next to Bruce, giving you a look like he knew you were hiding something.

“You sure about that?” Tony pried.

You shook your head, giving them the fakest smile you had.

“Yeah, all good. Excuse me for a second.” You said politely, rushing yourself out of the room.

You weren’t sure what had brought the sudden wave of tears, but you assumed it was all of todays shit finally hitting the fan. Everything that had happened was barely life threatening, and some would say you were being dramatic— but you were mentally fed up with today. All you wanted to do was sleep it off.

You had almost made it to your room, but with your vision blurred with tears— you bumped into a muscular chest.

“Oh, sorry doll— hey, you alright?” Bucky asked you, holding you upright from him nearly knocking you over. He quickly noticed your cheeks glistening from your tears.

Those simple words, ‘You alright?’ triggered something in you, pushing more tears out. You felt pathetic.

“Hey, hey— what’s wrong?” He softly asked again, but he noticed your bloody cradled hand, “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, trying to show that he didn’t have to worry.

“No, I’m fine really just… Not having the best day.” You muttered out, sniffling— feeling ashamed of yourself.

Here was Bucky standing in front of you. He had gone through so much, went through hell, and he was strong enough to still be standing here today. He was incredible.

Then there was you, upset about having an off day.

Yes— it wasn’t a competition, but when you put it into that perspective it sounds bad.

“Let’s stop the bleeding, okay?” He suggested, still holding onto your arms.

“Seriously, I’m fin—”

You suddenly stopped, feeling him take your non injured hand— pulling you towards your room. At last, you had made it to your space.

“Go sit. I’ll grab some supplies.” He told you, and you were in no state to argue.

You didn’t want to have to ask for help, but a part of you really needed to be taken care of. What better person to comfort you than Bucky, he was your rock.

He was back in less than a minute, gauze and medical tape in hand. He kneeled down in front of your perched form, gently taking your bloody hand. He began to clean it as carefully as he could, while in his mind he wondered what had happened.

“You go on a mission I didn’t know about?” He tried to joke, but couldn’t get you to smile.

You shook your head, keeping your gaze on your hand.

“Just had an accident in the lab.”

He nodded and focused back on your hand. Wiping it clean of red— wrapping it with the gauze. He released your hand, letting you cradle it back to yours chest. He plopped down to your left, his weight on the bed making you lean into him.

“You wanna tell me what’s really going on?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows. “I’ve seen you walk away unbothered with worse injuries.”

You were aware he’d caught your admission that you were having a bad day, and a small part of you had wished he’d forgotten. But Bucky being well… him— of course he remembered.

You stayed silent, brain coming up empty with a good lie.

“This can’t be what’s go you so upset,” He motioned to your hand, to which you cradled further into your chest, “What’s going on doll?”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned your head on his shoulder. To which he leaned his head against yours, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“Just a bad day.” You whispered finally.

He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, rubbing his thumb soothingly.

“Did someone say something to you? Was it Tony?” He questioned, waiting for you to drop a name. He’d be gone in a second, ready to tell off whoever was bothering you.

“No one’s bothering me.”

He relaxed instantly, relived that nobody was messing with you. He moved his head off of yours, turning his body to face you. You slowly faced him too, catching his confused expression.

“Like I said, bad day.” You told him with a shrug.

He frowned at your sad expression, wishing he could take all your frustrations away.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked you.

Your heart swelled at his gesture. He was always so sweet, so understanding. He was patient with you when he shouldn’t be, he was what got you through the hardest days. He meant so much to you.

“Just snuggle with me.” You told him shyly.

“I can do that!” He exclaimed all excited.

He picked you up, placing you to stand next to the bed. You watched with an amused expression as he got the pillows all aligned. He took the blankets, making a circle with them— almost forming some kind of nest. He placed your build-a-bear teddy in the middle, and stepped back with a smile.

“What do you think?”

You shook your head and laughed, body already feeling lighter— the stress fading away.

“I think you’re a huge dork.” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes, slipping off his shoes and jacket. He plopped down in the middle of the bed, the blankets surrounding him.

“Whatever, now get in here.” He demanded playfully.

You followed shortly, crawling into the blanket nest with him. He leaned back, pulling you with him.

“Thanks Buck.” You mumbled into his chest.

He smiled, giving you a gentle squeeze, rubbing his hands over your back.

“Don’t have to thank me. I’m always here for you.” He told you genuinely.

Your heart swelled, chest warm with adoration. How did you get so lucky?

He held you for awhile, both of you talking occasionally. After a bit, you started getting tired, and ended up falling asleep in his arms.

Bucky smiled to himself, gazing at your sleeping form. Your face was relaxed, your body wasn’t tensed up anymore. He couldn’t stand the fact that you’d had a bad day, and he was glad you looked so peaceful now.

You were so glad to have someone like Bucky to help comfort you when you were having an off day.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #sebastian stan #fluff #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #light angst #oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #protective bucky barnes

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