#yourback

[summer-tomatoes]

I was going to make a post saying that the library should have photography and arts equipment that you can borrow, and then I did some googling and it turns out that THIS IS SOMETHING MY LOCAL LIBRARY ACTUALLY PROVIDES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[hoshifighting]

WARNINGS: idol!reader getting injured (arm), accident mention, smut, fingering, oral (f. &m. rec), ovulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, handjob, attentive sex? (due to reader's injury), dirty talk.

staff!seungcheol who’s got that severe look, eyes attached to every inch of you like he’s memorizing it. he’s standing close, flashlight in hand, checking every damn speck of glitter on your face like he’s planning on personally suing each one that doesn’t sparkle just right. like you're some kind of precious artifact he needs to make sure is flawless. there’s this faint crease between his brows as he leans in, like he’s got a checklist of your entire existence in his mind, murmuring “lemme see, hold still,” like you’re the one shifting around with his hands practically cupping your face. the makeup artist’s just nervously holding her breath in the background.

doesn’t even flinch when he sees the tiny smudge, just calmly points it out while you try not to roll your eyes. “needs fixing,” he says, stepping back only when he’s satisfied, waving the makeup artist over with a quick hand gesture.

“alright, open up,” then there’s staff!seungcheol who’s already one step ahead, holding up that tiny spray bottle of propolis like it’s the holy grail of vocal cords. he gives you a knowing look as you open your mouth for him to spray it down your throat. “don’t choke on it this time,” he says, like you didn’t just cough last night but committed a fucking crime. the spray hits your throat, sharp and herbal, and you pull a disgusted face.

“that’s awful, seungcheol,” you croak, trying to rub it off your tongue.

“and it works,” he fires back, deadpan, already watching you like you’re gonna start talking back too loud. but there’s this smirk tugging at the edge of his lips, like he’s clocking the way you’re fussing.

staff!seungcheol who’s already got a scrunchie on his wrist just for you, flicking it like a badge of honor when the fashion team rushes in, hands full of fabric and pins. “back up,” he tells them, waving them off like some sort of bodyguard-turned-stylist. he steps in, gathering your hair up with this weirdly gentle touch, pulling it back like he’s done this a million times. and he has. you’re used to the low murmur of his voice, saying stuff like “look down,” or “tilt your head,” pulling your hair back as you rip off one outfit, practically wrestling yourself into another.

and yeah, he's seen it all, seen you stripped down to a bunch of mismatched pieces of clothes, practically naked with pins and sequins scattered around. he’s the only one who gets to stay in the room when it’s time to swap outfits, hands moving steady over zippers and hooks without batting an eye. he’s too professional for that.

but sometimes you’ll catch the way his eyes flash, quick as anything, over your bare shoulder, the curve of your waist, or the bend of yourback. lingering just a second too long before he’s tugging fabric back over you. “hold your arms up,” he says, voice so steady it’s almost annoying, but there’s this barely-there flush on his face, one he probably thinks you don’t notice. only once you're decent does he call in the fashion team again, his hand lingering on your shoulder just a second longer, like some silent encouragement.

“think i’ll survive tonight, boss?” you shoot over your shoulder as he tightens up a corset, his fingers brushing your back.

“if you can keep that mouth of yours shut for two minutes, maybe,” he mutters, yanking the laces just a little too tight.

staff!seungcheol who seems to have every little detail about you learned by heart, right down to the shade of foundation that works best under stage lights and the exact temperature of water you like before singing. he’s like a walking encyclopedia on “you,” this intense manager who somehow knows you better than you know yourself some days. it’s kinda crazy when you think about it—how much attention he puts into the smallest things, like checking your posture right before you step onto the stage, brushing an imaginary dust speck off your shoulder, or even noticing when you’re tired just from a tiny slump in your stance. there’s this wild, almost comforting feeling in knowing someone’s watching that close, picking up on what you need before you even have to say it.

staff!seungcheol who doesn’t just care about the professional side of things but pays attention to you as a whole person. you’ll be pacing before a show, a mess of nerves, and he’ll pull you aside, hands firm on your shoulders, telling you to breathe, to ground yourself. “hey, it’s just one show out of many,” he’ll say, like he’s reminding you that this isn’t the end of the world. sometimes, he’ll even pull out a joke, something random to get you out of your head, his voice warm, more calming than he probably even realizes.

staff!seungcheol who’s a human wall when it comes to fans or any kind of chaos. he’s got this built-in radar for spotting trouble in a crowd, and the way he just moves through people, ushering you along like he’s a bodyguard instead of just your manager—it’s unreal. you know the crew’s got security, but it’s always him who stands closest, always him who angles himself slightly in front of you, making sure nothing gets in the way. he’s not overbearing, either; it’s this subtle, constant thing, like he’s built to be in tune with you and the space around you.

and it’s not just the big stuff. like, he’s a fiend about the little things, too. if he sees you adjusting your outfit or tugging at your sleeves, he’s immediately there, straightening the hem or re-pinning a loose detail. he’s the kind of guy who’ll silently hand you a tissue if he sees a tiny smudge of lipstick on your teeth, or he’ll have that emergency stain remover in his pocket just in case you spill something on your outfit last-minute.

staff!seungcheol who somehow makes you feel both overprotected and ridiculously independent. he’s right there if you mess up, catching you before you can fall—literally and metaphorically. he’ll laugh about it after the fact, maybe make some quip about how you owe him for always “saving your ass,” but in the moment, he’s solid as hell, totally serious. it’s like he lives for making sure everything in your world runs smoothly, yet he’s always subtly pushing you to handle things yourself, too.

then, there’s the crazy amount of trust he has in you, even though he’s like the over-prepared captain of the team. like, he’ll go through the checklist with everyone—makeup, wardrobe, lighting, sound—and he’s triple-checked it all, down to the damn microphone battery. but when it comes time for you to perform, he just gives you this look that says he knows you’re gonna kill it, and in that weir silence, it’s like he’s handing everything over, telling you without words, “i’ve got the logistics; you just be you.”

staff!seungcheol who, when you’re touring his hometown, suddenly seems way more focused on making sure you’re comfy than anything else—an entire list prepared, of all the places he wants to show you. but first, there’s the “family dinner” situation. he’s practically droning with nerves as he introduces you to his family, calling you his boss, and you’re just gritting your teeth, whispering to him with a grin, “seungcheol, quit it—i told you, just my name.” he just smirks, playing it off, even if it’s clear he’s a little embarrassed, especially when his mom starts calling him out on every little thing he used to do as a kid.

staff!seungcheol who, thanks to your fans, has become practically famous on his own. every time you two walk through an airport, you can hear them calling his name, practically chanting it at this point, pointing out “the hot manager.” and there he is, looking away, rubbing his neck or practically burying his face into your shoulder

he’ll tug at your sleeve like a kid hiding behind their mom, he gets especially flustered when you turn it on him, all smug, saying, “y’know, i must be the luckiest one here, getting to have a handsome manager like you walking me around.” he rolls his eyes, a rare laugh slipping out as he mutters something sarcastic, trying so hard to brush it off, but you know he secretly loves it, the tips of his ears going pink.

and it’s not just for show. once you’re on your off time after a show, seungcheol’s literally all over the place, making sure you don’t lift a finger. he’s there, picking up menus, already knowing what you’ll want and what to skip (yes olives or goodbye olives). he’s at the counter, practically fighting to swipe your card before you can even think about it. it’s like he’s taken the whole “manager” title to heart, as if your well-being is his full-time mission.

he’s got this sixth sense for how you’re feeling too. the second you’re showing signs of exhaustion, he’s hunting for a place to sit, guiding you to a cozy bench or a shady spot under a tree like he’s found the red dot on a map. he even maps out little stops he thinks you’d like, you can’t even remember the last time you needed to decide on where to go.

staff!seungcheol who’ll walk around the city with you, way more relaxed now that he’s on familiar ground, all while pointing out tiny things he remembers from his own life. he’ll say, “used to skip class and hang out here,” or, “this place has the best coffee.” and it’s casual, but you can see how he’s sharing a bit of himself with you, almost like letting you in on these little secrets.

he’s the same guy who’ll quietly, without a word, take off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders when the night air gets too cold, muttering something like, “can’t have you freezing out here,” while you just laugh because he’s the one walking around in a t-shirt in the middle of the night now.

staff!seungcheol who watched you perform on the backstage through the reflector and in the second he sees you stumble, heart pounding harder than it should as his instincts kick in before he even thinks—he’s moving, pushing past a cluster of crew members and ignoring the calls of the other staff, all his attention zeroed in on you. the moment he reaches you, he’s crouching down, there’s this tremor in his voice as he says, “hey, stay still, don’t try to move,” reaching to gently check your injury while his jaw is set tight, his hand firm yet shaking ever so slightly.

he’s not even sure if it’s because he’s furious at the award organization for being careless or just terrified that he saw you go down at all. there’s this split second where he holds you, practically hovering over you protectively, and when you hiss in pain, his hand moves gently, brushing hair out of your face. “i’m so sorry, it’s gonna be okay,” he mutters, his voice way softer than he means, almost sounding choked.

and that’s when it really hits him—this worry clawing its way up his chest, tearing through the professional armor he’s kept on so tightly. all the stuff he’s tried to ignore, to brush off as “just his job,” it’s all boiling over now, searing him. because the sight of you hurt, struggling to get back on your feet, it’s affecting him way, way more than it should. he’s clenching his jaw so hard he thinks it might break, like he’s trying to hold back this tight feeling in his throat, but it’s too late. all he can think is this can’t happen again, this can’t happen to you.

“look at me, alright?” he says, his voice steadier now but barely. he’s doing everything to stay calm, but his hand is still on your shoulder, squeezing just a bit tighter than usual. “i’ve got you. we’re gonna get you checked out, and you’re gonna be okay.” it’s like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is you. when you try to shrug him off, muttering that you’re fine, he doesn’t even flinch—just picks you up like he’s done it a thousand times before, ignoring any protests, keeping you close to his chest as if letting you go is an option he just can’t entertain.

walking off stage, you’re half-leaning against him, but he can’t look at you without this flood of guilt hitting him. why wasn’t i there faster? he keeps thinking, like he could’ve somehow prevented this whole thing if he’d just been a second sooner, a second more vigilant. he knows it’s irrational, but the thought eats at him. with every step, the weight of what he’s feeling presses harder and harder, making him realize, damn, this isn’t just the job anymore, hasn’t been for a long time.

and now, backstage, with you in his arms, his mind’s racing through a million scenarios of what could’ve happened if the injury had been worse, if he hadn’t been there. it’s almost infuriating, how much he cares, and for a split second, he feels like he can’t breathe, like every single barrier he’s tried to put up to keep things professional has just crumbled into dust.

when the medical team comes over, he still can’t bring himself to fully let you go. he steps back just a bit, giving them space, but his hand’s still resting on your shoulder, thumb unconsciously tracing soft, slow circles like he’s grounding himself in knowing you’re still right there. he catches your eye, the way you give him that reassuring smile despite the pain, and he feels this indescribable surge of… something he’s afraid to name, afraid to admit even to himself.

you’re talking to the medics, brushing it off, laughing even, and he’s half-listening, locked in his own head. he’s known all along he’s cared about you, sure, but seeing you hurt, actually holding you like this, it’s made him realize it’s different now. this is something deeper, something he can’t hide behind a professional mask or dismiss as just his responsibility. you’re not just his artist-boss not just the person he’s assigned to take care of. you’re everything—everything he wants to protect, to keep safe, to make sure stays as perfect and unbreakable as he sees you.

staff!seungcheol, who practically moves in with you after the injury, showing up almost daily with bags of groceries, adjusting the pillows on the couch just right, and doing anything he can to make your life easier while you’re stuck on this forced hiatus. he’s meticulous as always, organizing everything, but he still lets you do the simple things on your own when possible. he knows how much you hate feeling dependent on anyone, even him, so he keeps it balanced. still, every now and then, he steps in—like now, as you awkwardly try to pull on your pajamas with your one good arm, refusing to ask for help but struggling all the same.

“you’re gonna tear the sleeve,” he murmurs, chuckling softly as he crosses the room, gentle hands helping guide your arm through the pajama top like it’s nothing. “and before you say anything, you don’t need to feel embarrassed, alright?”

“yeah, easy for you to say,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks heat up as he adjusts the fabric against your shoulder, the familiarity somehow making it worse. he’s done this a million times on tour, yet here, in the privacy of your own home, with your messy pajamas instead of a flashy stage outfit, it feels… like a shame. hard to ignore.

he just shrugs, glancing at you with a small, reassuring smile. “you’ve got nothing to prove to me. trust me, i’ve seen you through worse—like that one time in paris when you twisted your ankle and tried to walk it off anyway?”

“ugh, don’t remind me.” you roll your eyes, but the memory actually makes you laugh a little. “that was your fault for letting me go out in those ridiculous heels.”

“you’re the one who insisted they looked good,” he teases, smoothing down the collar of your pajama top as if that final adjustment could make this whole thing feel less awkward.

it’s only a few minutes later, as you’re both sitting at the dining table, the food he’s prepped steaming and smelling way too good, that he seems to pick up on the shift in your mood. you’re quiet, picking at your food, trying to ignore the ache in your back and the faint, familiar discomfort building up, reminding you it’s that time of the month—again.

“you feelin’ alright?” he asks, studying you with that same, observant gaze. he reaches over, pressing a hand to your forehead to check for a fever, but you instinctively pull back.

“i’m fine,” you reply a little too quickly, shrugging him off as you try to mask the irritation in your voice. but you know he’s already suspicious. he’s been keeping track of your recovery, and since your doctor had him install that app to sync with your cycle and show schedule, he’s way too aware of these things.

you glance at the notification before he turns the screen down. you groan, “god, i hate that you’re this observant.”

he chuckles softly, “comes with the job..”

“yeah, well… it’s just—look, it’s… i’m on my second ovulation since this stupid injury,” you admit, cheeks heating up as you glance away. “and i can’t… y’know. can’t do anything about it. feels like i’m losing my mind.”

he’s silent for a moment, probably a bit stunned, and you peek up, expecting him to laugh or maybe even crack some joke, but his face is serious. finally, he clears his throat, and his voice is so quiet you barely catch it.

“y/n, you—you could’ve told me. if this is, like, getting to you, there are… other ways.”

your heart races, both from his words and from the way he’s looking at you, and you try to shrug it off with a half-laugh, but your voice wavers. “yeah, and what? you planning on giving me a hand?”

he doesn’t laugh. “if that’s what you need.”

“cheol… whatthefuck?”

“don’t want you suffering alone. if you need me, just say it,” he murmurs.

and in that moment, with him sitting across from you, earnest and willing, you realize maybe you’ve been holding back more than just your pain.

staff!seungcheol watches you carefully, still as a statue except for his hands, which are gripping the underside of the table so hard you swear you can see his knuckles turning colorless. he’s waiting, practically holding his breath, watching every small shift in your expression, and you know he’s waiting for any sign you’re second-guessing. but all you can think about is how much you want him. your eyes slip shut, and you let out a shaky breath, the idea of him, his hands, his mouth on you making you dizzy. when you open your eyes, you meet his, still fixed on you.

you don’t even realize you’ve let out a soft moan until his lips twitch into a faint smile, and he pushes back from the table, coming around it with measured steps. “you sure about this?” he asks, he’s close enough now that you can see every detail of his face—the stray strands of his hair falling across his forehead, the slight flush on his cheeks, the sharp cut of his jawline.

“cheol, please?” you murmur, because god, you need him to close this space, need him to touch you.

he doesn’t need to be told twice. he scoops you up, carefully laying you back on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles as he moves higher, taking his time. he’s studying every reaction, every small sigh or shift, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. he glances up one more time, giving you a moment to stop him, but when you nod, his fingers hook under the fabric, peeling it down slowly.

“fuck, you’re drenched,” he murmurs, as his fingers dip between your thighs, gathering the wetness that’s practically dripping, and spreading on your clit. he raises an eyebrow, glancing at you with a smirk. “been waiting for this?”

you squirm under his touch, cheeks flushing as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his stubble grazing your skin as he trails his mouth higher, breath warm as he hovers above the wet cunt, your pussy clenches, making a wet sound, his eyes flicking up to meet yours again.

“stay still for me,” he whispers, before his mouth finally, finally connects, and the first touch has you gasping, fingers fisting the sheets. his tongue is slow, and you can feel his tongue sucking your juices inside his mouth. mortifying, delicious. you can’t help but arch your hips toward him, wanting more, but his hands press down on your thighs, holding you in place.

he pulls back just enough to murmur, “turned on?” and his fingers slide in, curling faultlessly as he starts moving, his mouth resuming its work on your swollen clit in a way that makes you disoriented. he doesn’t let up, alternating between teasing you and giving you exactly what you need, fingers curling tight, making the wet sounds louder, pressing against that spot that has you writhing.

“god, look at you,” he whispers, voice rough in your ear as he presses his fingers deeper, his breath hot on your skin. “you’re soaked, y/n. dripping all over my fingers… you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

your hips move instinctively, grinding down on his hand, but the way you’re shifting causes a sharp pain to shoot through your arm, making you gasp.

“hold on, wait,” he says immediately, pulling his fingers out, his other hand already moving to your side, gently easing you back down. his eyes scan you for any sign of discomfort, and then he places his hand firmly on your chest, palm pressing between your breasts as he pins you to the bed, keeping you steady. “just like this, okay?” he murmurs, fingers slipping back inside you, his thumb circling your clit. “you can still move down here, but let me do all the work.”

your breath catches as he holds you down, the feeling of his strong hand keeping you in place making you stumble breaths. you’re completely at his mercy, pinned under his hand, unable to do anything but grind against his fingers, and with every thrust, every word he murmurs, you’re spiraling further, faster.

“you’re so perfect like this,” he whispers against your skin, moving his fingers deeper, rougher. “such a mess, taking me so good… you’re gonna cumm for me? yeah? that’s it, just like that…”

your orgasm hits hard, your body clenching around his fingers, thighs trembling, and his hand on your chest keeps you from arching too much, grounding you as your entire body pulses he holds you steady, whispering soft, filthy praises into your ear as you come down, his fingers finally slipping out but his hand staying over your heart, steady and reassuring as your breathing slows.

you look up at him, the aftershocks still tingling, and he gives you a soft, satisfied smile, brushing his thumb gently over your collarbone. “now that’s my good girl.”

seungcheol hovers over you, his face an inch from yours, eyes locked on you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing. your breaths are shallow, still struggling to steady, and without another thought, you lift your neck and press your lips to his. he melts into it, kissing you deeper, tongue brushing over yours in a way that makes your skin tingle. he’s careful with his hands, keeping his wet fingers from your hair but awkwardly gripping the pillow, while the other hand slides down, lightly brushing over your chest.

“fuck… cheol,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling almost embarrassed by the way your body’s reacting. the word just slips out, and then it’s followed by, “want your cock so bad. just… just give it to me, please.”

he pulls back, and you’ve never seen that look before—his lips parted, brows raised, the most i-want-pussy-so-fucking-bad face you ever saw. he shakes his head softly, voice a little raspy, “you know i’d ruin you if i could right now,” he says, breath catching. “but it’ll hurt… don’t wanna push it too much.”

“please, cheollie,” you murmur, giving him a sly, knowing look. “you’re gonna be careful with me, right? just… give me a little. i need you so bad, been thinking about it all day…” your voice trails off, and you feel his hand grip a little tighter, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your chest through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

he takes a shaky breath, a low groan slipping out, and suddenly, he’s sliding off the bed, hands trembling just enough for you to notice as he pulls his shirt over his head. his skin is warm, tan, muscles rippling as he unbuttons his jeans, and you can barely breathe as he pushes them down along with his underwear, freeing himself. his cock is thick, flushed a deep pink at the tip, and the way he’s stroking himself, like he’s savoring every second, has you practically drooling.

unable to resist, you tilt your head up, parting your lips, tongue out as you bat your lashes at him, silently begging. he’s already at the edge of the bed, and he lowers himself, the weight of his cock pressing against your lips, and you can’t help the moan that escapes. it’s warm, heavy, and you lean forward just enough, taking him between your lips, letting your tongue glide along the underside.

he strokes a hand over your cheek, thumb grazing just beneath your eye, and his face looks wrecked, like he’s fighting every instinct to just take control. but he holds back, lets you set the pace, lets you tease with your mouth, your tongue swirling over his tip, tasting every inch of him.

you take his whole length in your mouth, sucking him slow, then pulling back to focus on the tip like you’re savoring the best thing you’ve ever tasted. you hear his breath catch, and when his knees falter, his hand grips your shoulder, the sound of his hissed “stop… stop,” barely reaching you over the rush of your own heartbeat. you pull back, licking your lips, watching his eyes go dark as he catches sight of his precum shining on your mouth.

he climbs back onto the bed, sliding between your legs, and you shiver as his rough hands smooth over your thighs, steadying himself, each touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin. his tip brushes your clit, slick and throbbing, and his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut like he’s holding himself back, muttering to himself as if he’s praying to keep control, like he knows he’s on the edge of just losing it. “what a fucking idea, seungcheol.” you can practically hear him thinking, fighting to keep the restraint that’s barely holding on by a thread.

but you want him to break just a little—so you reach down, your smaller hand wrapping around him, tugging him gently, aiming him just right. his eyes snap open, catching you in the act, and he’s on you in a second, his large hand covering yours, guiding himself to press against you, so close but not quite there yet. his forearm braces beside your head as his face hovers above you, dark hair brushing your forehead, and you feel the heat of his chest pressed to yours, your nipples tight against him.

a giggle escapes frpm you, bubbling up from the tension, aroused and just a little wicked, and his gaze sharpens. he bites his bottom lip, a smirk playing on his face, and asks, “think it’s funny to watch me suffer, huh?”

“me?” you bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. “wouldn’t dream of it… i’m just thinkin’ how it’s almost cute how fucked you are already. big, strong seungcheol, lookin’ like he’s about to cry before he’s even all the way in…”

he laughs, pushing just an inch further inside, making you moan, eyebrows scrunching as the heat between you builds. “gonna make you take back every word, babe,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of threat and promise, breath warm against your cheek.

you can’t help yourself, smirking up at him. “well, you better prove it then, baby. or i’m gonna have to tell everyone you barely held up through a single round.”

“oh, you think that’s how this is gonna go?”

and with that, he presses forward, sinking in deeper, your mouth dropping open as he fills you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him.

your walls tighten around him, barely able to take him in, but your body’s greedy, slick and warm, desperate to pull him in even further. your calves wrap around his ass, urging him, and in one move, you tug him, forcing him deeper, filling you completely. you cry out, head rolling back, but seungcheol groans, nearly collapsing onto you, his hand catching himself before he lands too hard.

“what the hell are you doin’,” he pants, shaking his head, his voice all gruff as he looks down at you. “you’re crazy, you know that? what if i’d fallen on your arm?”

you smirk, unashamed, reaching up to tug him down closer. “couldn’t help it… i needed all of you,” you murmur, voice dripping with need, your walls pulsing around him. “need you so deep you’ll still be there tomorrow.”

he laughs, but it melts into a growl as he starts to move. “you know i can’t take it too fast with you today.” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. “but damn, you’re tight.”

your hips tilt up, meeting him, matching the slow grind, and you look up at him, gaze heavy-lidded. “bet you’ve been thinking about this,” you purr, your fingers trailing down his chest. “probably losing it in that dressing room, thinking how wet i’d get for you.”

“fuck, don’t start with me,” he grits out, his hips faltering for just a second as you clench around him, and you can feel him twitch inside, pulsing as your words hit home. his hand finds its way to your neck, not squeezing but just holding, grounding himself as he slowly fills you over and over. “goddamn, y/n..”

“oh, i know,” you say, breath catching as he leans down, lips brushing yours, barely ghosting as his hips keep that steady, perfect rhythm. “i know exactly how you look at me, seungcheol. like you wanna destroy me.”

his breath hitches, and his hand flexes on your neck as he groans, forehead pressing against yours. “careful what you ask for.” he warns, voice low, but you pout up at him, lips pressing into the slightest pout, all needy.

“i don’t think you’re really up for it, anyway. maybe i need someone who can give it to me for real,” you murmur, words practically melting into his ear, and he stops mid-thrust, his eyes flashing as he studies your face.

“you’re pushin’ it,” he says, voice rough as he resumes moving, but you keep the playful look, barely biting back a smile as he grits his teeth. “if you didn’t have that arm to worry about, i’d have you crying right now, you know that?”

“oh, i know,” you coo back, dragging your nails down his back, just enough to make him hiss. “but what about now? all you can do is hold back ‘cause you’re too scared of hurting me. maybe it’s you who can’t handle it, huh?”

the muscles in his jaw tighten as he leans in close, hips still rolling into you with a slow, maddening rhythm that makes you squirm beneath him. “trust me, i could handle you just fine,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “but you’re so damn tight right now, i’d probably split you open if i went harder.”

“maybe i want that,” you whisper, your voice breathless as you shift your hips, taking him even deeper, feeling every inch stretch you with each slow grind of his hips. “maybe i want you to fuck me so good i forget my own damn name.”

seungcheol’s resolve nearly snaps. he groans, his hands gripping your waist to steady you, his thumb brushing along your ribs, and he lets out a shuddering breath, muttering under his breath. “god, ovulations are somethin’ else,” he says, voice cracking, clearly fighting for control. “you’re wet wet—like i might drown in you, damn.”

he lets out a low chuckle, his eyes clouded, almost in awe. “look at this mess,” he murmurs, pulling out just slightly to feel how soaked his length is before sliding back in, feeling your warmth close around him, every muscle clenching down on him, pulling him deeper, your eyes rolling back. “you really think you can handle it if i just… give you what you’re beggin’ for?”

you arch up against him, that challenging spark back in your eyes. “why don’t you just try me?”

he lets out a slow exhale, hand moving from your waist to cradle your face as he picks up the pace, still careful but with a bit more force this time, making you gasp. you whimper, nodding at him to continue, the tension building with each deep stroke, and you can see the satisfaction flash in his eyes as he keeps his rhythm steady, watching the way you start to fall apart beneath him.

he pulls out slowly, just enough to let you feel every ridge, every vein along his length, before pushing back in until his tip is pressed snug against your cervix, making you gasp. the pressure alone makes your head spin, and you can feel his balls, soaked and heavy, pressing against you with each movement, sticky with how drenched you are.

“you still think i’m not giving it to you right?” he taunts, his voice dipping low as he watches your face, one brow lifting just slightly, teasing. “you wanted it rough, didn’t you?” he grins, dragging a hand up your thigh, holding you open for him. “tell me, where’s that attitude now?”

“it’s—it’s…” you trail off, breath hitching as he thrusts again, slower, letting his hips roll so he’s as deep as possible, and you can’t help the shaky whimper that slips out.

“what was that? i couldn’t quite hear you,” he murmurs, voice smug as he leans down, kissing your jaw, your neck, every inch of you that he can reach while still keeping that maddeningly slow pace. “you were talkin’ so big before, and now look at you.”

“i… i can take it,” you stammer, clutching at his shoulders, though the words barely come out with how your voice keeps faltering, his rhythm somehow leaving you more breathless with each thrust.

he chuckles, brushing his thumb across your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. “that so? ‘cause you’re already all teary,” he points out, a hint of affection in his tone, even as he keeps that teasing look in his eyes. “am i really that deep, baby?”

“y-yeah,” you manage to whisper, but your voice wavers, and he grins wider.

“tell me what you need, then,” he says, his hips moving just a fraction faster, the sound of skin meeting skin growing louder, wetter, echoing through the room. “tell me what you want so bad.”

“need… need you to make me cum,” you whimper, the words tumbling out, barely audible. “need to feel you.”

he huffs a little. “you’re falling apart just from this? and here i thought i had to really work for it.”

“i—i can take more,” you manage to gasp out, your body responding to his every movement. “just… just give it to me, seungcheol.”

he shakes his head, smirking as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “you really think you can handle it? with that arm and everything?”

“you know i can!” you protest, trying to keep your voice steady, but your hips betray you, rolling against him. “i’m not fragile, you know? just—just don’t stop.”

“is this what you’ve been craving? sum' good cock to make you cum?”

“yes, yes, god—yes!” you whine, the heat pooling in your belly, threatening to spill over at any moment. the sounds of skin slapping together mix with the sweet squelch of your wetness, making it even more intense.

“fuck—my balls are practically soaked from you. you like how that feels, huh? my cock in your sweet little cunt, makin’ a mess of you?”

“you’re so deep, it feels too good—”

“you okay? i’m not hurting you, am i?”

“no, it’s… it’s perfect,” you manage to breathe out.

“what do you think? you think you can handle more?” he asks, almost a growl as he quickens his pace just a bit, sending your mind spinning even further. “or are you just gonna cry for me?”

“shut up!” you whimper, tears finally spilling over as he hits that spot inside you.

“too good, huh?” he teases, biting his lip to stifle a groan as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “do you think i could make you cum like this?”

“yes! yes, just like this!” you gasp, the words tumbling out of you as you feel the familiar tension building in your core. “oh god, seungcheol—”

“what do you want to say?” he presses, leaning closer. “i want to hear you, babe. tell me.”

his thrusts become more insistent, and your body instinctively responds, clenching tightly around him as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

“that’s it, baby,” he encourages. “let it go. i want to feel you cum around me.”

“seungcheol, i—” your voice catches in your throat, your body convulsing as the pleasure overwhelms you completely, every thought dissolving into pure ecstasy. the world around you blurs as you finally let go, and all you can manage is a soft whimper as you surrender to it.

his eyes widen, watching you, makes your heart race even more, and as you tremble beneath him, you feel him pulse inside you, the sensation of his cock sending you spiraling deeper into that sweet oblivion. “my girl..” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he rides you through it, feeling your walls contract around him. “so fucking beautiful.”

staff!seungcheol who’s always attentive, watching you as you recover from your last high. he knows how much you need him, but he’s also so damn careful, ever the dedicated staff member. even as you beg him to keep going, to let him cum deep inside you, he hesitates.

he slips out of you, but you’re not ready to let him go. raising your hand, you grab him by the cock, your fingers wrapping around him with a tightness that makes him gasp. “what the hell? oh fuck!” he exclaims, almost stumbling forward as he’s pulled back toward you. his voice shifts from reprimanding to moaning, the scold dying on his lips as he feels your hand start to stroke him.

“i just want to make you feel good, too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you give him a few slow, teasing pumps, enjoying the way his hips instinctively thrust forward, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him.

“you’re gonna get yourself hurt,” he warns shaky, his hands gripping your wrist, but there’s no real force behind it. he’s clearly enjoying it, his breaths coming faster as you continue to stroke him, your fingers gliding effortlessly over his length. “you shouldn’t—”

“shh,” you hush him playfully, biting your lip as you watch his expression morph into one of pure desire. “just let me do this for you. i want you to feel good.”

“god, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that,” he groans, his voice trembling, but the way you’re working your hand up and down, your palm brushing the sensitive tip, it’s too much.

“then cum for me,” you whisper, a seductive promise in your tone. “i’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me. let go.”

staff!seungcheol, who can’t resist the way you look at him, all teasing yet so earnest, the way you squeeze him with just the right amount of pressure, your hand slick with your cum and sure as you stroke him.

staff!seungcheol, who gives in because he can’t help it, because every part of him is craving you, has been for so long. his hips jerk, thrusting up into your hand with a roughness he usually holds back. his eyes are dark, fixed on your hand working him, and he bites his lip, trying to keep himself steady, but it’s no use—you’re so close, whispering his name, brushing your lips over his with every stroke, and he’s already too far gone.

“i can’t hold back when you look at me like that.”

you laugh deliciously, the sound bubbling up from your chest as you lean in, licking his lips.

staff!seungcheol, who can’t hold back any longer, feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he realizes he’s about to spill over. his breath hitches, and just like that, he’s cumming—hard. it’s a mix of deep, throaty moans and soft whimpers escaping his lips, echoing in the quiet room. your belly and fingers are coated with him, and you can’t help but grin at the sight.

“yes, just like that! keep going, let it out, look at you, all moaning like a little slut. how does it feel?”

“shut up,” he mumbles, half-heartedly trying to glare at you, but his eyes are glassy, the words only making him blush deeper.

you smirk, lifting your hand to your mouth, where his cum glistens on your fingers. you start to lick it off, each slow drag of your tongue making his breath hitch in his throat.

staff!seungcheol who’s mortified, wide-eyed as he grabs your wrist, halting your movements and making your tongue stay out, eagerly waiting. “no, no, don’t do that!”

you pout at him, eyes big and pleading, your voice coming out in the sweetest “please?” he hesitates, visibly torn, but eventually lets go of your wrist, swallowing hard as you close your eyes and bring your fingers back to your lips. the way you lick it all up slowly, savoring each taste with a big-ass smile, drives him crazy. it’s like you’re teasing him all at once, every nerve in his body alive with the sight of you, so effortlessly and unapologetically indulging yourself.

staff!seungcheol who’s at a complete loss, his eyes wide as he watches, helplessly captivated by the way you move, the small smile on your face showing just how aware you are of his reaction. he shifts, clearly trying to gather himself, but you notice his fingers flexing at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to pull you close again.

[metalbody]

Hai . Turns You Into A Glitter Bomb

Watch yourback. YOUREgonna be a glitterbomb.

[halovianed]

sunday how far can you arch yourback urgwnt time sensitive question

[bronzebowl]

BeDrunk  CharlesBaudelaire  1821 –1867 You have to be always drunk.  That's all there is to it—it'sthe only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks yourback and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk. .  But on what?         Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish.But be drunk. And if sometimes, on the steps of apalace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room,you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, thewave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything thatis groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everythingthat is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock willanswer you: "It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slavesof time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as youwish." From Modern Poets of France: ABilingual Anthology, translated and edited by Louis Simpson, published byStory Line Press, Inc. Copyright © 1997 by Louis Simpson. High Tower Text

[sandsorghum]

not me coming up with fake dating hcs for a whole half of the cast as an excuse to write a slow dancing scene with nanami 👀 👀 👀

[itzy-bella-23]

I remember the freckles on your back and the way that I used to make you laugh... #iremember #thefreckles #yourback #theway #makeyoulaugh #me #throughthemirror #lenses #placestogo #inthecity #havingfun #beingcute #wanderlust #saturdayvibes #beauty #readyfortonight #somewhereonlyweknow #inthemiddleofnowhere #oneofthosedays #justlikethat #notlikethis #be #like #create #inspire #motivate #dream #believe #imagine #live (at Mexico City, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/BsPiVHul6z_/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1gmthvtmhneef

[alkamyxour]

#myfashion  check my xxx out.com. check out our brand xxx tee shirts

[shininglikeyoursmile]

A little love...❤❤❤

Warning: fluff and mention of choking

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Summary: Andy helps you relax and fluff fluff fluff

A/N : This is just a silly writing I did after a long time. Hope you enjoy ❤

I am feeling tired and worn out this is just my way of coping .

Written on phone .all mistakes are mine. Sorry for any grammatical error.

Your throat was sore, it felt like you couldn't even swallow and it hurt so much your eyes are teary and you are on the verge of crying when you hear the voice 'Honey I am home.' Maybe this was the final push you needed and your tears were soaking your cheeks with warmth, you choked on a sob when Andy came up to you . 'Honey… his voice filled with worry and concern makes you to blink your eyes open .

Andy wraps his arms around you as soon as he sees you . Burying your head in his chest you burst out in tears. Andy rubs your back tenderly as his gentle voice soothes  you . After a minute you look up at him . His eyebrows furrow in concern as he looks at you . 'My throat hurts ' you say above a whisper .

'oh honey  ', Andy says as he lifts you up and places you on the kitchen counter. His thumbs gently swipes away your tears . kissing your forehead he gently rubs yourback. Filling the glass with warm water, he adds some salt to it and holds it before your mouth. You gulp the water and it soothes the burn ,making your throat relax . 'Better?' Andy asks examining your features for any signs of discomfort. You nod looking up at him .

His features soften as he stares at you . Grabbing you up in his arms he starts walking towards the bedroom. Burying your face in  his neck you inhale softly his presence making you relax.Andy gently lays you on the bed. Kissing your forehead he pulls up the blanket over you. "I'll be right back," he says.  After some minutes you feel his warm body beside you. Wrapping his arms around your waist he pulls you closer, his warm hands smoothing down your arms ,warm fingers gliding across your skin makes you lull further to sleep. Andy rests his hand on your throat as he gently whispers in your ear "You want me to rub it"? . "Hmm " you hum "But maybe don't choke me" you chuckle."You didn't mind it this morning"  Andy said, smirking against your skin."Maybe I won't in the morning " you said, nudging his ribs gently.  "Good night ,love " were the last words you hear  before sleep invaded your mind to take you to the beautiful land of sweetest dreams. 

[lovenona]

Baji hums at your words, enjoying the way they were said just above a whisper, revealing your desires; to the way you want everything he tells you, everything he's willing to offer like a good little whore, "Bet."

You're insatiable, and so is he. But Baji does not lose in his own game. He revels in the way you inch closer, as if you can't get enough of him, as if to tell him you need more; more than his thigh, more than the hands that burns your skin, more than his words. So he leans down, the hand on your breast moving to cup your nape, and he kisses you, slowly, like teenage lovers you once were, sharing your first kiss.

But he's older now, bolder and daring on levels he didn't know he could reach, so he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites, just enough to draw blood, for him to take that metallic taste on his tongue. And the moan you release makes his cock twitch; addictive as always, his personal drug.

"Yeah," he whispers as you suddenly grind against his thigh, movements desperate, shameless. You want it that bad, huh? "That's what I thought."

He doesn't let up. The hand on yourback moves further, ghosting over with the clasp of your bra. It would be so easy, one swift move and that's one peice of clothing out of the way. He'll rip that pretty shirt up, uncaring of the buttons that would scatter and get lost. You always found a way to get them fixed and replaced, after all. Maybe, this time, you could ask Mitsuya to fix it up.

It's too bad, really. As tempting as it was to rid you of your clothes and fuck you on this dirty asphalt, fuck you until only he remains in your mind, fuck you so hard that you would feel it for days, feel the emptiness of him from your cunt.

Really tempting.

It'a alright, thougg. Baji's got what he's wanted, anyway. A little payback, a small lesson for you, cockblocking you (or, frustratingly, he both of you). Hopefully now you understand that Baji is greedy for your attention and is never willing to share.

So, to your surprise, Baji untangles your fingers from his hair as he steps back. He stares back at you, face composed and neutral, as if he wasn't walking you down on a dirty fantasy just a second ago, getting you all worked up for nothing. He bets your wet, dripping maybe? Baji chuckles and offers you a kind sinister smile and walks back to his bike.

"Get on," he instructs you a he mounts his ride, revving the engine, "We're going back."

– baji

[SCREAMING AND CRYING]

i reckon the very notion of baji drawing blood will be the thing that sends me to my grave. it’s what sends stars across my vision, what causes something terribly hot and molten to course through my limbs, what causes a whimper to slip past my lips as if it exists beyond my control.

(his teeth and his tongue. i hate them and love them like angels and devils.)

motherfucker. it kills me that he knows how much i like it, how i'm horribly submissive when his hands move like that, when we’re a breath away from fucking in the street and i don’t even mind it. the entire world has been irrevocably reduced to baji, his hands on my nape and my bra and his thigh between my legs like it is the only thing that keeps me standing. 

and i can’t even be upset about this exchange of roles, because i am nothing if not baji’s goddamn bitch until i die. 

which is why it is so utterly nightmarish when he steps away and he is not touching me but jeering at me, at my distress and my confusion. what the fuck is he thinking? why the fuck did he stop? i can’t read his expression except for the dangerous mirth in his eyes and the smile that threatens to unravel the universe. 

i'm lost for a moment as my face falls, reeling from the loss of baji’s warmth and his hands and his lurid fantasy. fuck, it really is cold out here. like a lost puppy, i shiver, crossing my hands over my chest in an attempt to recreate what i'd had just moments ago, in an attempt to ignore the very real fact that my panties are definitely sticking to me and there’s an insatiable electricity buzzing everywhere from my cunt to my throat.

this absolute bastard. but i can’t say it because i’m a fucking mess and i want him. i don’t even bother to readjust my shirt because i can’t find the thoughts to.

“wait – what? what do you mean?” i say instead, my voice high and unsteady, but i follow him like i always do, even when i'm holding back my petty rage and palpable disappointment. “back where?” 

but what i wish i could say is why the fuck did you stop?

baji is killing me even as i loyally mount the bike behind him, even as i pathetically let my hands wander across his chest and his torso and the valley of his thighs (a simple investigation, i tell myself, but anyone would know otherwise) before they find a resting place around his waist and i press myself against his back. (it’s cold, i tell myself, and i'd hate to fall off the bike. but i think we know.) 

“w–where are we going?” it’s the only question i know how to say. and with my horribly wet panties and my insatiable brain i fear the answer even when i'd let baji take me anywhere.  

[shikamarubae]

War of the heart. pt7

Pairing:  Kakashi x reader, Itachi x reader

Summary: Kakashi and Itachi are getting closer to you but in different ways

Warnings: Mentions of death and suicidal thoughts

A/N:  English isn´t my first languge, please keep that in mind, i hope you like it.(i appreciate comments and criticism).

The ages and order in the events may not correspond to the anime canon.

The parts in italics are memories/dreams with memories.

Tags: @flowersgirl02 , @affection-rabbit ,  @dumb-dork  @jillanaholland              @ maybeisthemoon  itskindofafairything    yoongnysus

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4  Part 5  Part 6 Part 8 

Kakashi rested on a tree, away from the fire, from team 8 and especially from Genma, the man was making everything more complicated for him, his constant looks and his comments, directed at nobody but always reaching him, began to suffocate him .

He was not to blame for what had happened, he was not, or at least he was repeating it to himself, but every time he said it, his mind reproduced the moment you fell to the ground, looking at him with those eyes , eyes that would not let him sleep. He rubbed his face in frustration, trying to stop thinking, if something had happened to you, would he go back to a dark and deadlock like when Rin died? His own question made him curse himself, not even after the last discussion, after seeing you with tears in your eyes and after that you were in danger ... not even after that could he stop comparing you.

"Shit" he cursed himself hitting the wood next to him with his fist, he was unable to stop doing it ... after so many years, so many things and he still kept comparing you to Rin.

You just got dressed and collected all your hair in a ponytail, Kakashi only watched you as you did and undid it because you were not satisfied with any result, he approached leaning on you, so that you could see the two together in the reflection of the mirror you smiled and leaned on him, enjoying the little moment while he was distracted watching the strands of your hair.

-Maybe you should cut it- he said, still playing with it between his fingers, it would have been an innocent comment and you would have even considered doing it if it wasn't for the photo that was on the table in front of you ... if it wasn't for the conversation you had overheard between Asuma and Kurenai a few weeks ago.

You pulled away from the man and finished your ponytail, you didn't want to say it, you didn't want to bring it up, but you didn't feel like you could take it much longer either.

-Even if I cut it, I'm not going to be Rin- you said smiling at him through the mirror and Kakashi walked away from you.

-What's that for?

-Rin is dead and I'm not her, that's what I mean-your words might sound cruel but that was the reality.

-Do you think it's funny to talk like that? Of course I know she's dead, I don't understand why you act like that now, what's your problem?

-How long did it take you to say my name when we had sex? How long did it take you to look at me in intimate moments? I am not stupid, I have always been aware that i look like her, i thought it was just a coincidence but ... of course not.

Kakashi didn't say anything, he just went to the kitchen, to pretend he was doing something but not really doing anything, he just avoided looking at you.

"You ..." Your voice trembled for a moment as you approached him. "Do you at least love me?"

-I can't believe you're asking me this, why are you doing this? Why do you always have to do this? We are calm, we are fine, you always have to do or say something to ruin it. Do you think I don't know that you aren´t Rin? you are so...

"So what?" You asked without raising your voice, just wanting an answer. "Say it please."

-Forget it, you have nothing to do with her but you are right ....  I really hoped that the resemblance was not only physical-Those words did not come out with anger or bad intention, they sounded more like a defeat.

Your eyes were itchy and suddenly your throat had started to hurt, you couldn't even swallow your own saliva, much less talk, you didn't want to hear that, although you knew it, that was not the answer you wanted from Kakashi, to hear it with his own voice it was more painful than hearing it from the mouth of others or from your own thoughts.

You couldn't see his face well because your eyes were blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any time, you took several steps backwards leaning on the counter, without stopping looking at the blurred image of the man you were in love with and without saying anything else you ran away , you did not know if he had called you or not, if he had run after you or not, because you did not see or hear anything.

Kakashi had been perplexed to see you look at him like that, just as you hadn't expected to hear those words come out of his mouth, he hadn't expected that reaction.

He had never seen you cry and he had just seen your eyes full of tears and how your usually smiling face twisted in several ways that he had never seen until leaving an expression of pain and supplication that was not expected to come to form on your face.  Kakashi expected you to be mad as always, to shout something but you didn't say anything, you ran off and then he realized that perhaps you had never understood your relationship the same way.

"Do you at least love Me?" He had been unable to answer you, he had not even thought that perhaps you really loved him, in that way.

-The trail they have found is about 8 hours from here -Genma said next to him in the tree, handing him some food, the man was tense and impatient because the trail was new and it was a trail of blood, so the more the time they wait to move forward the worse things could get.

-It is a trace of blood but it is too light for it to come from a fatal wound- he said trying to reassure him, -(YN) is strong. She can deal with this.

-When we find her and come back, what will you do?

-About what?

-You know I didn't like your relationship, but if she loves you, can you reciprocate?

-I don't know- he said, looking at the completely clear sky where all the stars could be seen -and it's the last thing I want to think about now-

-Why do you think they kidnapped her? Knowing her, she should have already been able to escape had she not ...

-Unless whoever did it is someone more dangerous than the usual.

Genma nodded analyzing all the information they had so far, the little trace they had obtained from (YN) had already moved twice and the amount of blood in the last one was very little, in addition there was not only a trace of blood but also a trail of cloth and soap, making it difficult to get an idea of ​​why you had been kidnapped and by whom.

-What is clear is that they want to use her for something and we have to get there before that happens- The man concluded and climbed down from the tree to speak to the three boys from team 8.

You saw the red stain on the cloth, blood again, no wonder you started coughing up blood, you had been bleeding from your nose for no reason for three days and your body temperature had dropped, you had hidden it from Itachi and Kisame as best you could but It became increasingly difficult to hide it from the Uchiha since it had been keeping you company for lunch and dinner for several days.

It was late and you were unable to sleep because of the sudden cough and cold that you felt, if you continued like this they would soon realize that you were sick, what would happen if they discovered it? Although you were irrationally confident that at least Itachi would not do anything to you, you were not sure if Kisame would agree to have to carry someone who might not be able to fulfill her mission. A few hours ago you had been informed of the plan that would take place in three days and as you had thought the first days, the skill they required of you was to cross barriers, they needed a sword that was hidden behind a barrier in a valley near there and apparently there was no technique that allowed to deactivate it, the only option they had was you.

You closed your eyes again, but the cold you felt pierced to the bones and it was impossible for you to sleep, in the room there were no more blankets so you went to Itachi's, with the idea of ​​asking him if they had more. You found the man lying on his bed and his eyes closed -Itachi- you called him from the entrance, without bothering to put a foot inside.

-Hmm-was all you received in response

You were going to ask him if he had a blanket but he interrupted you ..

- (YN) What do you think of death? -His voice came out of nowhere and his hand stretched out of bed in a gesture inviting you to enter and so you did, you sat on the edge, so you could see him while he followed with eyes closed.

Surprised by the question you looked at him thinking the answer-I think death is not bad for the one who dies, if not for the people who are left behind.

-Then, what's wrong with what I did? There is no one left to have those feelings, the bad part of death is not present in this case.

-And Sasuke? -You replied almost indignantly and Itachi opened his eyes, his gaze was severe -Even yourself, you also harbor those feelings.

-Do I have those feelings?- He asked looking at you as he sat up sitting on the bed, you nodded in response.

-Your eyes are always sad, Itachi...you are a sad man.

-You are right-his hand came to your forehead, pulling yourback -and I found a woman just as sad as me.

You smiled because it was true and he had not said it with any bad intention, you were a sad person, you always had been even if you deceived yourself with moments of joy.

The mention of the Uchiha clan massacre had caught you by surprise, just as you had thought he repented, remorse haunted him and he was fully aware of how miserable he was-Do you regret it?

-No, I would do it again- You were silent, feeling the warmth of his hand on your forehead, how a person who calmly said that he would kill his loved ones again could be so warm?

The mixture of your conscience saying that he was a ruthless killer, with how good it made you feel to be close to him made you feel an unpleasant feeling of dizziness, as if everything around you was chaotic and messy.

You dropped forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder and his hand moved to your back, accepting the gesture and hugging you

-Would you like to die? -You asked in a whisper-sometimes I think that it would not be bad to die, must be nice an eternity of calm.

-Soon-his voice sounded even lower than yours and you didn´t understand if he was talking about you or himself but you didn´t care, Itachi dropped onto the bed, dragging you with him, making you lie semi on top of him and covering both of you- You´re cold- he said and ran his hand over your forehead and hair, with your eyes closed you agreed and accepted the caress, getting closer to him and his warmth.

[criminally--reid]

Go Home, Spencer

Warnings: er smut? Fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, yaknow; also not rlly edited n kinda rushed but like whatever :/

Pairing: spencer reid x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k (1,268)

(authors note at the end if ur down I guess. kinda important i guess i dunno)

_________________________________________

“Mmmh, j-jesus fuck! Nnng so- fuck! So  fucking good. Holy shit-” 

Buzz Buzz Buzz 

An incoming phone call interrupts you. You pause your video and answer the call from Morgan telling you to check on Reid. He hadn’t been quite the same since he went through everything with the last couple cases. You slip on a t-shirt and shorts and hop in your car to head to the office. 

“Everything okay, Spence?” He’s in the meeting room, whiteboards covered in chicken scratch, cork boards covered in pictures upon pictures of crime scene photos. 

 “No.. No it’s not okay. I- I- I don’t understand how I didn’t see it-” 

“Wha- what are you talking about?” 

He runs his hands up his face and into his hair as he storms off to the break room; me hot on his trail. 

“I can’t believe I had the initial profile wrong. I was so certain I knew, but he killed again. I thought I had it right; thought I knew.” 

“Spence, we caught the guy. It’s over-" 

"We could have caught him sooner." 

"Spence, it's done. It’s friday. You can go home. For once, stop profiling and enjoy yourself.” 

“I can’t just stop profiling. It’s what I do all day, everyday. I’d have to turn my brain off to quit. Like right now, you’re eager to get home. Not to someone, but something. You’re a bit fidgety. radiating an insane amount of body heat. I’m guessing you were watching porn before Morgan called-” 

“I didn’t ask you to start profiling me, Spencer, and how’d you know Morgan called?” 

“Merely observation…and Derek’s always the one that calls.” he continues, stepping closer. 

“Spence-” 

“You told me to enjoy myself... I’m about to.” He steps even closer so his front is flush with mine. I have trouble meeting his stern gaze until he places two fingers under yourchin, forcing eye contact. “Tell me, Y/N, was I right?” I nod yourhead and look away. “Not talking now are we? Words.” 

“Yeah, Spence, you're right.” 

A grim smile creeps across his face accompanied by an almost sarcastic laugh; a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “Spence? Seriously. I put so much effort and time; blood, sweat, and tears into earning a doctorate for everyone to call me Spence? Or spencer? Reid? No one respects my title, huh. I go above and beyond so I get the doctor respect, but still nothing.” 

“I- no- of course we do. This team would be nothing without you. We- we know how hard you work, Spen-" 

“Turn around.” you do as he says, turning around and gripping the edge of the large wooden table that sits in the middle of the room. He runs his hands up you back and around your neck, pulling your ear closer to his mouth. “What was it about?” 

“Wha-” 

“The video. What was it about?” 

“Uh- i-it was, uhm, a- a boss and his uh employee..” 

Spencer lets out a sinister yet somehow innocent laugh. “That excites you? You dirty girl. Is that something you think about a lot? Fucking whoever’s in charge of you at work?” You hesitate before slowly nodding your head. “I hope a co-worker can fulfill your fantasies.” He snakes his opposite hand down to plant a firm slap on your ass, eliciting a moan from your chapstick-coated lips. 

He unwraveles his arm from around you and drops down to his knees behind you; taking your shorts down with him, revealing that you have no underwear on. 

“No panties…” he whispers almost to himself. Excitement swells inside you as well as on the surface of your skin as he peppers open-mouthed kisses all over the back of your thighs, getting everso closer to your heat. He pries your legs open, and you let out slow, deep, shaky breaths in response. They soon become shallow - almost nonexistent - as he slip stwo fingers inside you. “So wet,” he snickers. He quickens his pace with each thrust, and you're a mess in no time. 

“S-spencer,” you choke out. 

Another harsh slap on your ass. “Who?”

“Dr. Reid.. please..” 

“Please what?” He quickens his fingers, rendering you almost speechless. 

“Fu-fuck me, Dr. Reid, please.’’ 

Immediately, he stops in his tracks and removes his fingers; an empty feeling washing over you. He stands up, his front flush with yourback and you can feel his bulge pressing up against your thigh, through his pants. “Open,” he says, and you part your lips allowing his fingers to dance inside, coating your tongue with your own juices. 

“Good girl.” 

You hear the sound of him undoing his belt followed by his suit pants hitting the floor. You spread your legs slightly, more than ready for him. The tip of his length makes contact with your slick folds and your insides tighten up automatically. “S- Doctor, please.” 

“As you wish.” 

He slips inside easily, and you feel full once again. He goes agonizingly slow; torturing you. Slow, long strokes, filling you to your hilt; then all the way out and back in again.

“Doctor Reid, faster, plea- ohmygod!”   

“Shti! So fucking tight.” 

The sound of his thighs hitting the back of your slick ones fills and echoes through the room. A harsh slap on your ass followed by a squeal adds to the audible pleasure. He removes his hands from your hips to tangle one into your hair and the other one snaking around your front to rub hellish circles on your clit. You collapse onto the table - putty in his hands; an absolute moaning mess. The knot that began before you got there returning full-force, threatening to unwind. You clench around his length, trying to hold back your orgasm and relish in the immense pleasure. But all too soon, the floodgates are threatening to open; aching for release. 

“Mmh- you gonna cum for me?” Spencer breathes out from behind you, his pace ruthless and steady. 

“Mmfuck, Spence- yes.” 

His grip tightens in your hair, and he pulls your head back - ear level with his mouth as he lowly taunts, “How do we ask nicely?” 

“Doctor Reid,, plea- fuck! Please.. Can I cum, please?- S-so fucking good. Spencer... please?” 

“Cum,” he whispers in yourear; sending shivers down your spine. Almost instinctively, you clench around him and your juices explode. An uncontrollable, high-pitched cry leaving your mouth as anticipation finally reached its apex. 

A few more strokes and Spencer pulls out and finishes on yourlower back, leaving you with an aching empty feeling once again. His hands falling on either side of you holding him up. Both of us panting like race dogs. He stands up - putting some space between you and him - allowing you to turn around and admire the sight in front of you: A wild Spencer, glistening with post-sex sweat, dressed in nothing but a haphazardly buttoned beige button-up, running his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. 

You both hurry to throw your clothes back on. 

“So…” Spencer starts.

“That was.. -” 

“Yeah, it was.” Spencer attempts to sputter out a sentence, and you both laugh at his failure.

“Listen, I- uh.. Okay,” you laugh. “Go home, pretty boy. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and don’t even think about this place until Monday.”

He stands in front of you once again, your back up against the table, his hands lightly resting on your sides. “I think I’ve had enough fun in the last hour to last you the rest of the weekend. Given that, I’m obligated to come back tomorrow.” 

“Jesus Christ, Reid.” you chuckle, and he joins in.

“Fine. Monday.” He places a kiss to your forehead, grabs his cross-body bag, and heads to the door. A quick wink, and he’s out of yoursight all too soon. 

“Monday,” you whisper lowly to yourself, and smile like a total loon all the way back to your car. 

○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°

a.n.: ok so like this isn't rlly edited but whatever I already said that akajak

the thing is, I have a few more of these already written (that I should actually prob look over n edit). But I cant decide if I should try harder to make them a series or not. The story lines VAGUELY run together, but like I references different seasons of spencer?? like does that matter ?? or? Maybe it could just be like an analogous series bcos the plots kinda make sense individually.. eye dunno bbies,, gimme ur opinion if ur reading this :)

Also,, lemme know ur opinion on the spacing. I feel like this.is too far apart, but i feel like if i dont double space or whatever, the words will get jumbled up and it'll be harder to read? It is for me at least.. lemme know what yall prefer

Ok so I made the spacing smaller. I feel like it's hard to read but maybe I'm just an idiot:/ lemme know uwu

[skyesins]

5 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @hkynm​ 💛

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

I’ve written so many characters that it’s kinda hard to choose... 

Most of y’all probably haven’t read my OC x Member stuff on AFF but for OCs, I choose Lei Kim (TOV) because she’s the bratty princess everyone loves to hate and hates to love.

For members, Amorous Designs Baekhyun because he’s an emotionally gorgeous English teacher who can quote poetry on command. Also, he so has a thing for girls sitting in his lap.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I love a lot of tropes, but I just like bratty characters because I want to see them clashing with literally anyone hahaha

Currently, my favorite trope is forbidden relationships (affairs, teacher x student, police officer x criminal, angel x demon, archenemies) because HELLLL TO THE FUCKING YEAAHHHHHH I love a good struggle.

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

After marrying for money, Seungeun lives as a spoiled socialite. Enter Baekhyun—her ex-boyfriend who she thought she left behind in a past, poorer life. He’s a struggling R&B artist who spends more time collecting coupons than he is at his so-called studio. It’s been eight years since they last met, and Seungeun thinks she’s too Chanel to go back to her old ways, but Baekhyun reminds her that it’s good to be bad—because loud concerts, lace-up boots, and torn jeans are more of a thrill than silk sheets and shopping sprees.

(Rich Girls Love Trouble, but it’s just my most recent fic, and I usually end up loving the more recent stuff.)

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

I have so many, but the shortest one I could find is for High Voltage’s prequel:

“Is this your first time interrogating a suspect?’

You swallowed hard. The room was relatively cool, but you swore that you could feel yourback sweat. “No.”

“No?” Baekhyun looked like he was holding back a laugh. “I doubt that. It’s definitely your first time considering the fact that you’re sitting on that uncomfortable chair like you’re a princess and that’s your throne.”

“If the chair’s so uncomfortable,” you started, “then why are you sitting in like that?”

“Like what?” Baekhyun slouched farther in his seat, splayed his arms out, and spread his legs. You felt like you were in that one scene from Basic Instinct where Sharon Stone’s character re-crossed her legs to allow her interrogators to look up her skirt. Only, Baekhyun was no Sharon Stone; he was Baekhyun. He didn’t re-cross his legs, he “manspread.” His pants may have been loose when he was standing up or walking, but when he sat down, they clung to his thighs. As much as you tried not to look, you looked, and Baekhyun noticed. “Like this?” Baekhyun’s voice was husky. “Eyes up here, princess.”

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

Baekhyun as the terrible fratboy who will make a mess of you both emotionally and physically only to leave when you have to clean yourself up. I hope this doesn’t count as a spoiler.

Hope you guys liked reading all of this LOL I haven’t been on Tumblr recently bc college but I will always have plans to write more! 

- skye ✨

[kyabeifongx]

YOURBACK!! ILY😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

😭

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

im not trying to be rude or offensive but why do trans women have the worst god damn posture of all time bitch stand up straight YOURBACK! its GONNA HURT LATER!

self conscious over being tall

[garfliend]

favorite parts of the beach: digging a hole in the sand to sit in it, and just laying down on yourback in the water at the perfect height so the water only sometimes gives in your face -👾

YESSSSS i used to just dig a hole with a kadima paddle and just chill in the hole..... or just like being face down in the water looking at the ocean floor hehe