#I did mention that this leg will follow the kids

[rafesfavgirl]

not like you — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')

❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to thе backseat no onе's ever had me, not like you ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.

words: 2.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material

"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.

it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.

"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.

was he nervous?

a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.

"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.

"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"

"rafe, what is it?"

"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."

you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"

"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.

"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.

"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.

"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.

"as my girlfriend?"

"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."

rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.

"your parents won't mind?"

you shake your head, "they're sleeping."

—

“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.

“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.

…what the hell?

“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.

“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.

sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”

“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“

“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.

“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.

he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you. 

once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.

"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.

"you like?"

"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."

"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."

while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.

"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."

"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."

you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.

"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."

"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."

"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.

"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"

"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.

"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.

there was just no escaping him.

his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.

a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj. 

"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"

"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.

"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."

you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.

"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."

"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."

jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.

you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."

—

"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.

"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."

"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."

"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."

you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."

"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."

you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."

"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."

"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"

he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."

a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"

"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.

"where is she, anyway?"

"she went to go find you, actually," he says.

"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."

half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.

"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."

"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."

—

you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.

"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.

when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"

she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"

you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.

"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."

"you—"

"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."

you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.

damn that felt good.

—

"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.

"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.

you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"

"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.

they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?

"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."

"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.

"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"

"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."

you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."

to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.

your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.

"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.

"how's that?"

"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.

"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."

"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”

his eyebrows furrow. “what?”

“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."

and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.

"not even jj?"

you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."

"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.

a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"

—

"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.

the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.

you shrug, jokingly. "wine."

"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."

without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.

he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."

"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.

you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.

you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.

"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."

you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.

you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.

you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"

"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."

he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.

he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.

you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.

"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.

his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.

"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"

"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.

you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.

"did that answer your question?" you pant.

you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."

"and how do you feel about me?"

he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."

anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe fluff #cute rafe #rafe being bf material #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic

[coldflasher]

me getting my silly little hopes up about maybe meeting grant at one of the cons i’m going to next year only to learn that they 100% will not even try to book him because apparently the last time the con organizer was in contact with his manager, the going rate for a photo op and autograph package with grant was £130... each... 

call me insane because i would 100% pay that, zero questions asked, but ANYWAY, time to tuck my sad little dreams to bed

#funnily enough i am not invested in grant as a person whatsoever #i don't even follow him on instagram lmao #i try not to keep up with the actual actors bc there lies madness and mess. real people fandoms are. yeah. been there. done that. #mistakes were made #but meeting him would be the closest i would ever get to meeting the love of my life bartholomew henry allen :((( #realistically i knew it was never gonna happen in a million years but im still sad to have it confirmed #also the guy who runs the cons is scary as FUCK idk how people are willing to square up to him about this stuff #like i get it because people are annoying and their wishlists for guests are honestly silly #but DAMN he's so mean #he walked past me at the con and i was legit more scared of him than i was of any of the lot cast... #remember when i still had the cold gun strapped to my leg in my photos because i legit couldn't get it off #and guns are NOT allowed in the photo ops #i was fully waiting for him to come and rip it off my leg and beat me up with it. the man is SO SCARY #anyway my friend and i were talking about the con and i jokingly (but half srs) said it'd be funny if he invited the guy who plays mr parker #also not unrealistic cos im sure he wouldn't charge a ridiculous fee either #and my friend was like oh you should ask *con organiser name* to invite him! #[not saying his name in case he crawls out of my laptop screen like the girl from the ring and eats my face. DID I MENTION HE SCARES ME] #anyway i was like are you kidding i would not ask that man for a glass of water if i was on fire #HE'S SCARY AS SHIT. I'D BE SCARED HE'D FIGHT ME FOR EVEN HAVING THE AUDACITY #anyway no grant. which proooobably means no candice either. not that i'd blame her cos so many fans have treated her like shit #sigh. my dreams. they are dust in the wind #funnily enough a bunch of people have suggested wentworth for the lot event which. listen. you KNOW i would gnaw my own arm off #but again i think it's HIGHLY unlikely #idk we may not even go to the main arrowverse event. it depends on who the guests are cos we're so behind on half the shows #but we're defo going to legends. we got gold tickets. we don't even know who's going. not a single guest has been announced #we did not give a fig. we bought tickets the minute they went on sale. THE EXACT MINUTE #we legit joked that if we aren't ticket holders 1 and 2 that we will be shocked and bamboozled

[gutsby]

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

��We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

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dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you? 

Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando

“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.” 

His voice echoed in the foyer. 

The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club. 

Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time. 

Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him. 

He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway. 

Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could. 

You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.” 

“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?” 

Ah. This morning… 

You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes. 

You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving. 

You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue. 

Damn his tongue and soft lips. 

Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?” 

“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry. 

But he wasn’t done yet… 

Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.” 

Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?” 

You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.” 

“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”  

You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.” 

“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.

You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him. 

Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years. 

Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him. 

The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark. 

You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs. 

You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots. 

This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this. 

The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone… 

You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe. 

He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone. 

The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando. 

He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there. 

He was a busy man, but he made time for you. 

Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you. 

Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars. 

“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red. 

You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.” 

That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.” 

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment. 

Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived. 

He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always. 

“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt. 

Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown. 

“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants. 

It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too. 

You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were. 

“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.” 

You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.” 

—

After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine. 

You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life. 

But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper. 

“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted. 

“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.” 

You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?” 

Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing. 

You chuckled at his dramatics. 

The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him. 

“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?” 

You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!” 

Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.” 

“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked. 

He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. 

He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust. 

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did. 

You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.” 

He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. 

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since. 

Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them. 

He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.

“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again. 

You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response. 

“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all. 

You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.

You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.” 

Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again. 

“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.

You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care. 

You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours. 

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him. 

“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip. 

You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.

Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. 

He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again. 

“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.” 

You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were. 

His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind. 

Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you. 

You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later. 

You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind. 

You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck. 

“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?” 

You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move. 

Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.” 

You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?” 

Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?” 

“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.” 

With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.” 

Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected. 

He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.” 

He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.” 

He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?” 

He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #mob!lando #mob!au

[kaciidubs]

Confiscated

❣ Summary: He was going a little too crazy on the new Fans app, and you would swiftly reign that energy back in. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 791 ❣ Warnings: Slice of life, fluff, humor, sexual innuendos, implied smut, mention of Bubble and Fans messages, Chris is a flirt and menace to stays, Reader teaches him the 'fuck around and find out' clause ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Christopher Bahng, Bahng, and Baby, Reader is referred to as Baby, this was a wild time for stayville, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Tap tap tap. Send. Switch. Tap tap tap tap. Send.

He was having too much fun with making stays go wild - something about making them have the same reaction as he did, simply pushing him to continue on with his extravagant behavior. 

From Bubble to the new - and arguably buggy - Fans app, he was giggling up a storm in his bed as he watched various reactions begin to pour in from his not-so-subtle flirtatious comments and innuendos.

However, what he failed to remember was one stay was considerably close by, and her reaction wasn’t contained behind the screen of his phone.

“Christopher Bahng!”

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he narrowly avoided dropping his phone on his face, eyes shooting to the slightly cracked door of the bedroom.

The sound of footsteps swiftly followed suit before the door swung open to reveal your flustered, astonishingly enraged face as you held your phone up.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Um…” He squinted, unsure what he was supposed to garner from the black screen, “Talking to stay?”

“Oh, I know you’re talking to stay, mister ‘you know what’s sweeter than Dango Pudding’!”

The same heart that almost jumped out of his chest now fell to his ass - he could feel the heat of blush beginning to take over his face and ears.

“You still have my bubble?!”

You scoffed incredulously, “I- That- This isn’t about me! This is about you! You and your three addresses!”

His hands flew to his face, covering his eyes with an embarrassed groan, “No, no, no, please!”

“Nuh uh, it’s too late for begging, Bahng. Now, what’s this about some,” you paused, and he could hear the barely held back giggle threatening to break through your angered facade, “‘think you can handle it?’, huh? Or, ‘replying won’t be the only thing’, eh?”

Chris let out a shocked gasp as he scrambled to sit up, “You got Fans?! Baby, really?!”

“Baby? So I’m just ‘baby’? Not your-” A small snort escaped you, trying your best to keep a straight face, “-precious little Dango Pudding cup? Is that why you decided to stay on Bubble after wreaking havoc?”

“This can’t be happening - this cannot be happening right now.” Falling back onto the mattress, he stared up at the ceiling as he contemplated the pros and cons of simply disappearing off the face of the earth.

The bed dipped at the presence of new weight, hooking your leg over his hips to delightfully settle on his lap with ease.

“I’m confiscating your phone.” You hummed gleefully, leaning over him to grab the device currently abandoned beside his head.

“You’re what?” Angling his head, he caught your eyes with a pout, “You can’t do that!”

“Baby, you’re being extremely horny on main - trust me, I’m doing everyone a favor. Besides, aren’t you allegedly ‘cleaning your room’?” Looking around the bedroom pointedly, there was barely a hint of anything out of place, “Doesn’t look too dirty in here, but I’m sure we can make a mess to clean up.”

Your words had him choking on air, gasping and spluttering for words while a warm blush settled over him like a blanket.

“I- What- That’s- And you’re saying I’m the horny one?!”

Gasping in mock shock, you pressed your finger into his bare chest, “I’m like this because of you! Do you know how hard it is to try and watch a movie while your significant other is boldly sharing double entendres? How he’d do more than reply to his ‘favorite snack’?” Slowly trailing your index down the valley of his pecs, your tone softened as you tilted your head to the side, “Saying he’s not a flirt, then lamenting on how he needs them…” Honey dripped from your words as your eyes took on a sultry gaze, “Goading about whether or not they could handle it.”

The path of your finger stopped just above his navel, rising and falling with each bated breath he took - the air thick with lust and allure.

“Do you think I can handle it, baby?”

A chill ran down his spine, goosebumps rising along his skin as he blinked slowly, completely and utterly swept up in you.

He swallowed thickly, somehow managing to find his voice, “Can you?”

A smirk curled your lips, fire dancing behind your irises, “Guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Phones discarded on the nightstand, it wasn’t long until the bedroom truly had to be cleaned - and with a fresh pair of sheets and a clean pair of clothes, he made a quick excuse for accidentally ghosting on Bubble; the true reason remaining in the form of hickeys on his skin and scratches on his back.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction - Mafia - He Makes You Flinch By Accident

Mafia!Skz X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I hope this is okay! I did a little bit of both Flinching and scaring you as I wanted it to be different <3 

TW: Mentions of blood, violence, death and guns. Please don’t read if it triggers you, move onto another post I’d never want to put your mental wellbeing in danger &lt;3

CHAN: 0.8K

You knew what your boyfriend did for a living, you weren't an idiot, but you never expected him to bring his work home with him. It had been something he told you he never did, something he would never put you in danger of being near or even seeing. So imagine your surprise when you walk into his office to bring him some tea and see blood everywhere, all over the walls and floors making you whimper a little. You'd never seen so much blood in your life and you knew whoever it was it wasn't a good outcome for them. 

"If you even so much as glance in her direction again I will rip your eyes out of your head!" Chan's voice boomed before you dropped the tray onto the floor, watching as the cups shattered and boiling tea splashed up your legs but you didn't even feel it. Your eyes danced around the room to see one man dead on the floor while another was held back by Changbin - Chan's most loyal employee.

"Yn? What are you doing here?" Chan's voice was completely different than before, he was rough and hoarse before but now his voice was soft as he made his way over to you but you backed away from him your eyes widening when you saw the blood on his hands. He'd done this! He'd killed someone and was threatening to hurt someone else. 

"Baby girl...Please," He whispered attempting to get closer to you but you took off in a sprint, heading down the stairs and out of the front door. How could he do that to someone?! God, you couldn't get the image of the bloodstained floors or his hands out of your head as you got into your car and sped off.

You had no idea where you were going all you knew was that you needed to get out of there and fast before he could touch you, or come near you. Bile began to rise in your throat before you had to pull over and throw up in the street, whimpering as you saw flickers of Chan in your mind. You'd known of his life but he'd promised you he'd never killed someone who didn't deserve it, you clutched onto the door handle of your car doing your best to fight the images in your mind.

"If you even so much as glance in her direction again I will rip your eyes out of your head!"

The words danced around in your head as you stood in the cold air, letting out a breath and shivering as you began to finally feel again. The burns on your legs began to hurt and you got back into your car, it wouldn't be long until Chan found you and you knew that. You had guards that followed you everywhere you went and you knew you had a GPS tracker on your car and phone anyway...all of those things that had once made you feel protected now scared you.

"Baby, where have you been? I've been worried sick!" Your eyes shot over to the door of your motel room. You'd ditched your phone and car days ago in an attempt to stay hidden from Chan, just for a while so you could figure things out but clearly, it hadn't been enough.

"How did you know I was here?" You looked behind him to see Changbin and Jeongin waiting outside of the door holding one of your overnight bags, Chan had bought you some clothes since he figured you didn't have any,

"Baby, I know everyone. I would have found you sooner but the man who owns this place was uncooperative." He grumbled angrily to himself.

"Did you kill him too?!" You snapped exasperatedly, staring at him for any signs of blood on him.

"Baby-"

"You killed someone and why? Because they'd stared at someone?" Everything you'd been holding in was finally bubbling over as you stared at him,

"No, if you let me finish-"

"You told me you didn't kill anyone who didn't deserve it! All they did was stare at someone!" Chan blinked at you as he waited for you to finish yelling. Chan didn't let anyone yell at him except for you, you were the exception to every single rule that Chan had and he didn't seem to care that you were shouting at him either.

"Are you done?" He questioned calmly, as you let out a shaky breath and nodded at him.

"I killed those men because you were on their list." A frown embedded itself on your forehead.

"They were going to hurt you to get to me. I took them out before they had the chance." Guilt hit you like a ton of bricks, you'd been thinking terribly about Chan for days and all he had done was try to protect you.

"Channie..."

"We can talk at home, please...Please come home." He begged as you bit your lip, nodding and walking yourself into his open arms feeling at home as soon as he held you.

MINHO:0.8K

Minho had told you pretty early on what he did for a living, confiding in you that he didn't want there to be any secrets between the two of you and you'd agreed with him. You figured there was no use hiding anything from him anyway since he was in the mafia and could probably find out anything he wanted about you anyway. It hadn't taken long for the two of you to move in together, claiming it was for your safety but you knew it was because Minho couldn't stand to be away from you.

There were rules to you staying over with him though, you weren't allowed to go into his office when he was in there - not that you would anyway - and you weren't allowed to be around when business meetings were taking place. Everything you understood because he was doing it to keep you safe and you had to respect that and you never did it.

The only time you were ever in his office was when he wasn't in there and it was to do a quick dusting of the room and maybe a little light cleaning.

"Yn! I told you never to fucking come in here!" Minho screamed as he watched you pick up the pieces of broken glass from the floor. You'd accidentally knock a frame onto the floor when you were dusting sending Minho flying into action as he came into the room,

"You said when you were inside," You knew it was a bad idea to argue back with him but you knew you were right and he was wrong right now.

"You were playing somewhere you shouldn't have been!" Your whole body flinched as he screamed, your whole body burnt as you stared back at him. Minho had never scared you until this point and all because you'd broken a picture frame. 

"Am I a child?!" You yelled finally having enough of him screaming at you like you were some kind of a child, tears began to run down your face and instantly Minho realised he'd scared you. Worry flooded his body as he watched you drop the glass back onto the floor and his anger completely disappeared. He no longer cared about the frame that hid the codes to his safe and only cared that he seemed to have scared you.

"Baby-" He tried to soothe you but you snatched your arm away from his grasp and shook your head. There was no way you were going to fall back into his arms so easily.

"Don't! I'll see myself out," You mumbled walking out of the house as he yelled for you to come back to him.

You had nowhere to go, your old place was already being rented out to someone new and you had no cash or cards on you to get a place for the night so you were sleeping in your car. The seats were laid back and you were curled up into your jacket trying to warm yourself up even just a little. But it wasn't just the cold that was bothering you but every single noise outside that made your body tremble.

"It's just the wind," You mumbled to yourself as you tried to ignore the banging that was happening outside but that thought was pushed out when someone tapped on the window.

"I suggest you get out before I break the window." Your eyes glanced up to see a masked man staring at you, your whole body suddenly felt like it was on fire. You had no protection here, no guards and no Minho to keep you safe.

"P-Please...I don't have anything on me," You whimpered a little looking around the car for anything that you could possibly use to defend yourself but there was nothing.

"You have the car,"

"It's not mine, it belongs to my boyfriend." You rushed out, hoping that at the mention of someone else he would leave you alone.

"And where is he? He shouldn't leave such a beautiful girl out here all alone," The way he said it made your skin shiver as you bit down on your tongue.

"He's right here," Another voice said before the masked man's face collided with the window and his body slumped to the floor before a very angry-looking Minho stood there.

"What were you thinking?!" He panicked as you got out of the car and flung your arms around him, thankful for him coming to find you.

"I just needed space."

"You can have space at home where it's safe. You NEVER sleep in the streets," He whimpered, holding your face in his hand, his eyes filled with pain at the thought of losing you.

"Take me home..." You whispered, the two of you slipped back into the car as he watched you closely.

"I'm sorry for earlier." He told you softly, running his hand over yours as you began to drive into the roads.

"Please let's go home and forget today ever even happened," You begged, kissing his hand softly.

CHANGBIN: 0.9K

You'd heard horror stories everywhere you'd been today and each and every one of them was worst than the last making your stomach churn as you reached the home you shared with your boyfriend. It suddenly felt wrong to be going home to him when you'd heard everyone today bad mouthing him or telling you how much of a bad guy he was.

"Did you remember the piping bags? Felix has been yelling at me because I forgot them," Changbin chuckled as he turned to look at you, you stared at him. How could the man you'd been dating for the last six months, who was currently dressed in a thrilly pink apron be the monster that everyone was making him out to be.

"Did you kill someone last night?" The question had been running rapid in your mind all day and the smile on Changbin's face dropped.

"Who have you been talking to baby?"

"Don't!" You yelled, shaking your head at him. You weren't going to let him sweet talk his way out of this. How could you have been so stupid? He told you that he was some rich CEO but you knew it couldn't have been true after today. News of him killing someone was passed around as though it was the normal for him,

"Don't sit there and avoid the question!"

"Yes I killed him." He knew that there was going to be no way for him to talk to you about this calmly like he'd originally been planning. God, he should have come to you sooner but he'd been putting it off for months in hopes he'd get you to understand him if you fell for him first.

"Is it the first time you've killed someone?" Your voice shook as you stared at him and he sighed a little stepping toward you but you stepped back, holding your hand up as a sign for him not to come any closer to you.

"No. And it won't be the last." He answered coldly, making you shiver.

"You're disgusting!" You spat out, grabbing your bag and making your way to his door again, there was no way you could stand to look at him right now.

"You don't even know why I killed them!" He countered. He had his reasons, sure you might not agree with them but they were reasons. People who disrespected him, people who tried to overthrow him and people that had even tried to hurt you. All of them deserved to die because he'd never let anything happen to you or his empire he'd worked so hard for all of these years.

"You still killed someone! You think other people's lives mean that little so you can kill them?! You're sick!" The words were flying out of your mouth before you had a chance to process what you were saying to him. You couldn't see anything past the anger that you were feeling right in that moment.

"Yn!" Changbin pleaded as you reached your car, staring back at him and shaking your head. There was nothing he could say or do right now to change your mind.

"What? Are you going to kill me now?" The words were like a knife to the chest as Changbin stared at you,

"You think I'd do that?" His voice cracked as he watched you, waiting for you to say no and change your mind but you just opened your car door.

"I don't know what to think right now." The knife from before was now twisted and he suddenly felt sick at the thought of you not knowing if you could trust him or not and the thought of you thinking he would ever hurt you broke him to pieces. He watched in silence as you climbed into your car and drove off.

"Shall we follow her boss?" Felix quizzed but he bit his lip.

"Don't make it obvious...Just keep her safe." He loved you more than anything but right now he understood that you needed some space and time to yourself and he wasn't going to push you on that. 

It had been almost a month since you last saw Changbin and you regretted everything you'd said to him about not trusting him. Of course you knew he'd never hurt you but you were upset and hurt, hurt that he'd chosen to hide things from you and upset that he'd killed.

The more you researched him the more you found out about him and his crew. They'd worked from the ground up, focusing on giving to the poor as a way to help an underprivileged area in your city and from what you'd seen he only killed when needed.

"You wanted to see me," Changbin said as he slid into the seat in front of you. You'd asked Felix to arrange a meet up for the two of you, you knew Felix had been following you and you knew why after everything you'd read about them.

"I'm sorry," You stated, although you had nothing really to be sorry for. You'd acted out of fear and that was something you never should have to be sorry for.

"I know I can trust you...I was-"

"Scared?" Changbin finished, running his hand over yours, thankful to be able to touch you again; he'd been desperate to feel you near him again.

"Yeah.."

"Me too, it was why I never told you that side of my life." He admitted as you looked at him, studying him for a second before holding out your pinky for him.

"No more secrets." You whispered as he locked his pinky around yours and nodded in agreement with you.

HYUNJIN:0.7K

Walking through a darkened alley in the middle of the night after finishing a long shift probably wasn't the best ideas but it was a shortcut back home and you were going to take it. You'd taken it a million times before and you were sure you were going to take it a million times after,

"I don't like you walking home alone." Hyunjin's words replayed in your mind from the night before and you shook your head. The two of you had been together for almost a year now and he was protective over you and for good reason. He wasn't exactly the most liked man in the city and you were dating him which meant a lot of people weren't exactly fond of you.

You'd assured him that things were fine and you didn't need someone to watch over you all of the time but that didn't mean Hyunjin went along with it. He'd sent Chan - one of his most loyal men - to watch out for you without you knowing and every night he'd walk close behind you to make sure you got home without an issue. Only tonight he wasn't there and Hyunjin was taking his place instead.

"Hey pretty little, where you going in a hurry?" Anger boiled inside of Hyunjin as a drunken man slurred at you inside of the alley, swaying as he made his way over to you.

"Home." You answered bitterly, clutching onto your keys as you placed them between your knuckles ready for if he tried something you didn't want.

"You should come drink with me," You couldn't smell alcohol on him which was strange since he was acting drunk.

"no thanks, I think I'll just go home." You smiled warmly trying to play it off as nothing was wrong but before you could pass him he threw you against the wall. The cold metal of a knife against your throat as he stared at you,

"I want your keys, your purse and your phone." He growled out, your keys dropped to the floor as you did your best to shakingly get your bag off your shoulder. But before you could hand it to him he was on the floor after a loud banging sound making you scream.

You slowly sank to the ground watching as blood leaked from the mans head and you slowly looked up to see Hyunjin staring at you.

"You need protection." Was all he said as he held out his hand for you to take but you stared at it like it was a piece of rotten food he was trying to give to you.

"How...How did you know I was here? Did you set this up?"

"Yes, because I'm that vindictive." He grumbled sarcastically but you still didn't ake his hand.

"It's just like you to do something like this. Scare me into your open arms because you're pretending to be my white knight." Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at you.

"Why would I ever WILLINGLY put you in danger?" The more you thought about it the less likely you knew it would be the case but it didn't stop you from feeling sick.

"Chan is normally watching you but he's not tonight..." He admitted, this was either going to go terribly for him telling you the truth or you'd be thankful he was here.

"Chan?" You whispered, you'd met him a few times but you'd never seen him following you, you'd never even felt as though someone had been following you.

"I would never let you walk this alone and for this reason," He kicked the leg of your attacker and you slowly got up from the floor, biting your tongue as irritation grew inside of you.

"You had someone tailing me?" You knew it was probably the wrong thing to be mad about since he'd saved your life,

"Can you be mad at me when we get home? Right now I need to check you're okay." You stared at him and nodded,

"You're going to make it up to me." You warned him before he chuckled and nodded his head.

"I plan on it, princess." He whispered holding you tightly against his chest.

JISUNG: 0.6K

"You look breath taking tonight, doesn't she Dante?" Vivian quizzed her husband as he looked away from her and at you. His eyes scanned you once before nodding,

"She looks lovely." He stated before his eyes went back to her, you didn't take offence to it since you knew Dante only had eyes for her and you smiled at Vivian who appeared to be blushing under her husbands gaze.

"Where's Jisung? I thought for sure the two of you would be here together." Vivian stated as she looekd around the giant hall for your husband. Tonight was your anniversary and it was safe to say you were a litrle overwhelemed with how busy the party was and normally Jisung would be your anchor at this type of thing. 

You'd assume that after being married to someone within the mafia business for 5 years that you would be used to this types of parties and get togethers but you still found them incredibly anxiety inducing.

"I'll go and find him, go dance." You smirked knowing that Dante hated dancing but could never say no to his bride and you made your way through the crowd to find your husband.

"Excuse me," You whispered to a group of men that were lottering near a bar,

"Oh wow look at the ass on that." You heard someone utter as your whole body turned tense. The dress that you were wearing showed off every curviture of your body making you look snatched to the god's, you'd worn it so that your husband could oogle you all night long. Not some drunken stranger.

"What I'd give to fuck that ass." Another uttered before your whole body turned, anxiety melting away as anger replaced everything that you were feeling.

"How about you keep your disgusting, perverted thoughts to yourself?" You stared at him, hands on your hips. One of them stood up attempting to come closer to you but soon stopped,

"Are they bothering you, sweetheart?" Your body melted as you felt Jisung's hand on your hip and his eyes stared down the men that were drinking at his bar.

"Boss, we're sorry...We didn't know-"

"You should never speak to any woman like that, let alone my wife." He cut the men off and you had to bite back a smirk as you thought about it. 

"Appologise." Jisung ordered coldly before the two men that had said something both bowed deeply and apologised to you.

"All is forgiven, this is a party let's have fun." You smiled before turning to walk away with your husband but within seconds everything changed,

"I'd still fuck the shit out of her and leave her struggling to walk," It was someone else speaking this time and before you even had time to react Jisung was flying behind you and knocking the guy out cold.

"Anyone else?!" He growled out, turning to put his arm around you but you flinched and suddenly everything went cold and quiet. The music from the party faded into the background and Jisung stared at you in a panic, you'd never ever flinched around him before and it made him sick that you were doing it now.

"Baby...You know-"

"I-I know." You whispered looking at him. Jisung would never hit you, the only reason you'd flinched now was because he'd yelled but you stared at one another in silence.

"Let's go home." He whispered to you, holding you in his arms as you shook your head.

"We're hositng," You reminded him but right now the party was the last thing on his mind when he'd been the one to make you scared.

"There's booze and music, no one will even notice we're gone." He countered as he ushered you out of the venue and toward his car ready to make up for making you flinch tonight.

FELIX;0.8K

Your eyes danced across the pages of the book you were reading, so immersed by the writing that you'd barely even noticed someone sitting across from you inside of the coffee shop.

"Wow, it must be a good book." Was the only thing that pulled you from the pages as you looked up to see a stranger staring at you. He was tall, built well and looked as though he could be in the pages of a magazine but you weren't impressed by him. In fact, you were a little scared.

"I have someone I'm meeting," You told him plainly, looking around for any sign of Felix. If he came and saw some random man flirting with you it was safe to say it would end badly for the other guy.

"You've been waiting a while, how about I keep you company?" He suggested but you help up the book.

"This is the only company I need. I think you should leave." You needed him to go. You weren't scared of your boyfriend by any means but you knew what he was, everyone in the city knew what he was and it was going to be bad if he saw the scene unfolding right now.

"Come on now, a beautiful girl like you shouldn't have to wait this long for someone." Your eyes danced to the door as you noticed Changbin coming in, your boyfriend's most loyal man and your throat ran dry.

"Please...Just leave." You knew it wasn't going to be long until Felix came along but what you hadn't noticed was that he was already behind you, smirking a little. It had been a while since he'd had someone challenge him and seeing another guy with you was driving him wild.

"You heard the girl, leave." Your body was tense as you stared at the man in front of you.

"And you are?" He studied Felix, the only explanation as to why he was so calm around your boyfriend was that he had to be new in town. There was no way someone who'd lived in this city their whole lives didn't know who Felix was and what he was capable of.

"The man that could end your life in about two seconds. Leave." Felix smirked, waiting to see if the man would react or not. It had been a long morning and he was already late to his date with you so seeing someone flirting with you pushed him over the cliff edge he was already hanging from.

"You really want to be with him? He sounds controlling." Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribs as you shook your head,

"Don't-" Before you could finish what you were about to say Changbin had thrown the guy from his seat and onto the floor, no one around you reacted.

"Felix! He doesn't know you! Stop!" You begged as your boyfriend threw his fist into the guy's face, your eyes staring at him in a panic. 

"Lix!" You screamed but he didn't stop, it was as though he'd drowned out everything around him but you couldn't stand this side of him. Without another word you grabbed your things and ran from the coffee shop, sprinting as far and as fast as you could.

When Felix finally let the guy go - alive - he'd turned around expecting to see you waiting for him with open arms but you were gone and that was over a week ago. Since then he hadn't been able to find you and none of your friends were willing to exchange information for you. 

"Yn?" Your eyes shot to see Felix standing inside of your favourite book store, he hadn't even been looking for you today.

"I-"

"I'm sorry." The words cut yours off as you stared at him. The reason you'd ran away that day wasn't because he was beating on someone, you'd seen that before but he hadn't even heard you begging for him to stop. Your whole body flew into fight or flight and you'd ran before thinking anything through.

The week apart had given you time to think on things and you realised you loved him but you weren't sure you could be with him if he did anything like that again.

"I never meant to scare you, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you." He ran his hand over your cheek and he sighed a little, the moment he'd pulled away from the guy he knew he'd fucked up.

"I know Lix but you...you didn't even hear me when I begged you to stop. You scared me." He nods,

"I'll get help, I will NEVER let myself do that again," Your eyes searched his face, you knew you could trust him and you knew he'd never hurt you but you were still scared.

"Okay...But I want to see improvement. Don't just say you'll change and don't." You warned him, watching as he put his hand on his heart and promised you.

SEUNGMIN:0.8K

You knew a lot of things about Seungmin and his lifestyle but you didn't know everything there was about it. He'd told you that he worked for bad people but that was so far from the truth, in fact, he was the bad people - or rather, person. The only reason he hadn't told you was because he hadn't want to scare you, he knew it was wrong to hide things but he would somehow tell you eventually. 

"Are you sure? Because I was positive I locked it this morning." Your eyes shot to the door that you'd walked in through and you bit down on your lip. You were doing a little cleaning around your boyfriends home since you were bored and waiting for him and you'd stumbled inside.

"Boss, it's been open for a while now. Someone must have gained access." Boss? You shuffled your way to the door to announce that you were inside of the room when your foot hit a loose floorboard and the bookcase behind the giant desk opened.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, it was wrong to snoop. It was even more wrong to snoop when you knew Seungmin was outside of the room but your feet were moving before you had a chance to stop them and you were inside of the room. Your eyes danced around everything inside and you felt your stomach drop.

The walls were lined with all kinds of different weapons making your skin crawl as you looked at everything. Guns were everywhere, then there were the different kinds of knifes and god knows what else inside of there.

"Yn?" Seungmin's voice barely came out as a whisper as he holstered his gun away and walked over to you, his hand gently touching your shoulder but you moved away from him. What was this? He told you he worked for bad people, he never told you he bought the stuff home with here.

"What are you doing in here?" You remained silent as you turned to face your boyfriend, he looked panicked but you didn't care about that right now. All you cared about was getting out of here without getting hurt, you knew deep down that Seungmin would never hurt you but right now that was being muffled by the violence inside of the room.

"You were never meant to see any of this," His voice cracked as he followed you out of the room and into the hallway of his home. 

"So you were going to keep it a secret forever?" You were hurt that he felt as though he had to hide anything from you, if he'd been honest from the start maybe you wouldn't have cared as much but right now it felt like a punch in the gut.

"No...Just until I figured out how to tell you." You scoffed at him, shaking your head as you looked at him, your heart racing as you stared at him.

"Easy. You tell me. It's not that hard. Did you not trust me?" Your heart was breaking minute by minute. The more you thought about it, it seemed to be the only reason he would keep something like this from you.

"Of course I did."

"So then why hide it?" You stared at him, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for him to say something to you but the minutes ticked by and nothing came from him.

"Goodbye...Seungmin." You whispered as you made your way toward the staircase, your hand barely touched the bannister before words flew from his lips.

"I was scared I'd scare you away." It was hard for him to admit that he was scared of anything so to hear the words leave his lips it shocked him and you. 

"You scared me more by hiding it from me. T-That room-" Tears welled up on your eyes as you thought about everything you'd seen in there, everything in that room was made for killing and had probably killed before.

"You'll never have to see again, I'm moving my office so it'll be nowhere near you, you'll never have to stumble across any of it." He promised, his hands holding yours as you stared at him through your tears.

"Please...D-Don't go, I messed up but I can fix this. I have to fix this." He pleaded with you, looking you in your eyes as you bit down on your tongue. All rational thoughts out of the window as you stared at the man you loved, nothing had changed...He was still the Seungmin you knew but with a darker background.

"I'll never have to see any of that again?" You questioned, your eyes going back to the office door.

"I promise." He stood in front of your field of vision and you nodded a little.

"O-okay." You whispered as he escorted you down the stairs, ordering someone to start clearing the room as fast as possible.

JEONGIN: 0.6K

The house was like a maze and it didn't matter how many times you'd stayed over you still managed to get lost whenever you'd go down to the kitchen for a drink in the middle of the night. Tonight was no different.

You'd been walking in the kitchen when you'd accidentally knocked over a vase and were in the process of cleaning it up when you felt someone's presence behind you. You assumed it was your boyfriend who'd woken up when you weren't in bed.

"Innie?" You whispered, hoping it was him and not one of the maids who would no doubt be pissed at you for breaking one of the vases in the home. A sound in the air made you frown, it was a click but not a door closing or a camera shutting it was a different kind of click, metal and you'd never heard it before. Slowly you inched around to see Jeongin aiming a gun in your direction, your heart practically jumped into your throat and you dropped the dustpan and brush.

"Innie! It's me!" You yelled out, whimpering out as he continued to point the gun in your direction. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" The safety was placed back on the gun as he slid it onto the kitchen side staring at you. He'd blacked out in bed hardly remembering the night before. 

"You invited me...R-Remember?" You'd gone to bed without him since he told you to come and stay over so you could be together in the morning. You couldn't help the stutter and shake in your voice as you stood staring at your boyfriend with so many questions in your head. The first one is, where the fuck did he get a gun?

"Shit...Baby-" He tried to say sorry but you weren't about to gloss over very important information. 

"Where did you get the gun? Why do you even have it?" Your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. Jeongin didn't hide things from you with mean intent but he wasn't open about what he did for a living as it always came with mixed reactions.

For once he found someone who didn't just want to use him for who he was in the world, you wanted to be with him because you liked him for him, not the world he came from or the things that he could do for you.

"There's things you don't know about me..." He said slowly, taking your hand and leading you to the living room away from the broken glass that scattered along the floor.

"Then tell me," You didn't mean to sound as though you were begging but if it was the only way that you were going to get answers then so be it.

As soon as everything was out in the open Jeongin expected you to run for the hills screaming bloody murder but you didn't. You'd sat there and listened to everything he had to say and took on board why he hadn't told you in the first place.

"So do you have guards everywhere you go, for protection?" You quizzed, your legs were draped over his as you both cuddled on the sofa with a warm drink. It had been a long night of questions and answers but Jeongin was more than happy to answer everything you wanted to know.

"Yeah, so do you by the way. The moment you started dating me, you were put under my protection."

"So I have men following me around?" You laughed a little, they must have been really good at their jobs because you'd never seen a single person that could have been following you.

"Is that okay?" Jeongin must have realised it would have been weird for someone who wasn't used to it but you smiled and nodded.

"It's fine, a little strange but I feel safe." You whispered, laying your head on his shoulder as he cuddled you closer to him.

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[girlgenius1111]

say it again

alexia x reader something... slips out accidentally. alexia is more into it than you expected. smut. 18+

cw: mami kink. breeding kink. thigh riding. fingering. strap on use. dom/sub dynamics. praise kink.

-----

Both you and Alexia had been busy beyond belief in recent weeks. So, when she slid out of bed early on the day  you were both supposed to have off, you latched onto her shirt and refused to let go. 

“Amor, I have to go,” Alexia whispered, although she slid back into the warm cocoon of blankets, and wrapped you back up in her arms. 

“No. Stay.” You grumbled, tightening your arms and wrapping your legs around her too, for good measure. 

“I have to go,” she repeated, kissing your temple and attempting to slide out of your grip. You were about to remind her that neither of you had training that day, when you remembered somewhere in your sleep-hazed brain that Alexia had mentioned coaching a game at the Barça academy that morning. An idea found its way into your brain, and you forced yourself to sit up, allowing Alexia to escape the bed. She looked at you suspiciously as she headed for the bathroom, never having seen you give in so easily. In fact, she still had 10 minutes to lay in bed with you, having set her alarm early because she knew you’d capture her for more cuddles. 

“I’m coming with you.” You declared, smiling happily at your girlfriend when she poked her head out of the bathroom, a slight frown on her face. 

“Bebita, you will be bored, and you will distract me.” Alexia was referring to your rather interesting habit of watching Alexia. There was a certain look you got on your face when Alexia took charge on the pitch that made her crazy. You both kept it under control when you played together, but when one of you was out injured or on the bench, there were few games that didn’t end in rather passionate sex once you arrived home. You both loved to watch each other, and you really loved to watch Alexia be in charge. This was why Alexia absolutely did NOT trust you to accompany her to coach this youth game. 

“No, I won't, I promise. I’ll sit in the stands the whole time. No one will even know I’m there. ” 

Alexia simply raised her eyebrow at you doubtfully, before turning away to head to the closet. You scrambled out of the bed and followed after her, wrapping your arms around her abdomen. She chuckled, but continued to rifle through her sweatshirts, picking out the right Barça one for the day. 

You kissed her shoulder blade, peeking out from the small tank top she was wearing. “Please, Ale. We’ve barely seen each other these past few weeks. I miss you.”  

Alexia melted, turning around and wrapping her arms tight around you. “Okay, bonita. If you promise not to distract me.” 

-----

You’d had every intention not to distract your girlfriend, really you did. Watching her with the kids, though, was much more challenging than you expected. It wasn’t stern Alexia that you got; it was soft Alexia, and it was making something inside of you melt into a puddle. 

Alexia with a whistle slung around her neck, leading the very little kids through some basic drills. Patiently directing them around the pitch. Very softly kicking the ball in their direction. Shouting words of encouragement every second, even when it was just in response to one of the kids falling down and getting up. 

Alexia, standing on the side lines, whistle caught in her mouth, hands on her hips, taking the match just a touch too seriously. 

Alexia in a tight pair of athletic shorts, ass on full display, although it always was, regardless of what she was wearing. 

Alexia rushing onto the pitch when one of her players fell; it was nothing more than a scraped knee, but she carried the sniffling boy off the field and over to his parents, ensuring him that he was being very brave. 

You’d never really gotten the appeal of being pregnant before. And sure, you wanted kids, but you’d never craved them, never desperately wanted to watch your partner turn into a parent with you. Sat in the stands, though, watching Alexia interact with these kids like she was born to do it, you rethought all of that. 

You were staring, and you knew it, eyes firmly trained on your girlfriend as she turned around, bringing her shirt up to wipe at her face. It was a hot day, and she was standing directly in the sun. Her eyes caught yours as she did so, lips pulling up into a very small smirk, before she turned back around, taking a sip of water. You realized your mouth was, embarrassingly, hanging open. The things Alexia could do to  you, without even trying; it wasn’t fair. 

The midfielder could feel your eyes on her for the remainder of the match, and she struggled to stay focused. Her mind, too, was elsewhere, somewhere in the future. Where she was coaching your guys’ kid, with you watching proudly from the sidelines. She wanted it, desperately, and it caught her off guard. The rest of the match passed slowly as both of you were eager to get home. Even though you’d known what you’d been signing up for when you forced Ale to let you come watch, you couldn’t help but feel a little starved for attention. It was ridiculous, but you weren’t one to shy away from the things you wanted. So, when the match ended, and Alexia led the kids to shake hands with the other team, you headed down, impatiently waiting for her. The hug you brought her into was one that belonged at the end of a difficult match, not at the end of a children’s match where most of the goals were accidental. 

“Hola,” she sang softly in your ear, feeling you inconspicuously press a light kiss to her neck. Your lips didn’t leave, though, and Alexia pulled you back, giving you a warning look. 

“You are all red, amor, are you warm?” The question was paired with an adorable look of concern washing over her face; Alexia was always very aware of your less than impressive heat tolerance, and she grabbed the hat you were holding in your hand, placing it on top of your head. 

You were warm, but the redness was due more to Alexia’s close contact with your body, when you were already very aware of her, than the heat, although it wasn’t helping. 

“It’s warm out.” You agreed anyway, before smiling innocently up at her. “Can we go home, baby?” 

Alexia’s lips twitched. “Of course.” 

-----

Alexia had parked in a different parking lot than the rest of the attendees, and by the time you made it over there, you were debating whether you could wait until you arrived home for Alexia to touch you. The way she led you through the parking lot, hand in yours, body hovering protectively in front of you even when there was no one around, was only increasing the deep need for her to do anything to you. 

You decided to take matters into your own hands, noticing that the area around you was devoid of other people. When Alexia opened your door for you, something she insisted upon even though you were completely capable of opening your own door, you smacked her ass, climbing into the car like you hadn’t done anything. Alexia jumped slightly, and her eyes narrowed at you as she shut the door behind you. 

The minute your girlfriend was in the driver's seat, you were leaning over the center console, attaching your lips to her neck. Alexia exhaled sharply, minutely tilting her head to the side. 

“You promised to be good.” She said quietly, and you noted the very slight shake to her voice that told you she was, in fact, feeling the effects of what you were doing to her. You pulled back briefly, nipping at her ear as you did so. 

“Are you not enjoying this?” 

“It does not matter. You promised to be good, and you are breaking that promise.” She warned, gently shoving you back to your seat. You blinked at her, not used to the hard edge her voice had taken on. 

“Ale,”

“No. You will take what I give you at home.” 

You couldn’t pretend the way Alexia was looking at you disapprovingly wasn’t filling you with arousal. As badly as you wanted to be good for her, you also desperately wanted her to make you be good for her. And it seemed this was her plan. 

-----

You trailed into the house behind her, not quite sure what to expect when you were behind closed doors. It wouldn’t be the first time Alexia was rough with you, and you enjoyed it. Something seemed different, though, and there was a tension in the room you couldn’t quite identify. Or, if you could, you weren’t quite willing to admit it yet. 

Alexia backed you up against the wall just inside the front door, her face mere inches from yours, capturing your wrists in her hands and pinning them behind you. She was looking at you, sternly, but also so… softly. Like she would take care of you, even if she made you work for it first. Your stomach was filled with butterflies, in a way it hadn’t been in a while around her. You were beginning to have an idea of what you wanted, you just weren’t quite sure she wanted it too. 

“You have been very bad today, bonita. I do not know what I am going to do with you.” 

“M- Ale, please, take me to bed.” You almost slipped up, and you blinked at your girlfriend, hoping to god that she hadn’t caught it. 

Alexia leaned back and was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching yours.“What was that?” 

“What was what?” You replied, feeling blood rush to your cheeks, avoiding your girlfriend’s gaze at all costs. 

“You almost called me something… it sounded like it started with an M…” Alexia whispered, moving closer to lay kisses on your neck. She knew where your head was at, somehow, as she always did, and she was very on board. It had been something you’d both been thinking about for a while, but neither of you were brave enough to bring it up.

“Alexia,” you whined, struggling to form a single coherent thought. 

“That is not my name, amor. Not right now.” She whispered, her teeth capturing your ear and tugging lightly. You went practically limp in her arms, a low keen escaping your lips. 

“Mami,” you whispered, feeling Alexia’s grin against the skin of your neck. You realized that Alexia liked the title just as much as you did, if not more. 

“There you go, bonita. Mi mala niña, you can listen, hmm?” 

“I can, I am listening. I’m your good girl.” You argued, pressing your forehead to the blonde’s somewhat desperately. 

Alexia tutted quietly. “You were not listening before. I am not sure you are mí buena niña.” 

“I am, mami, I promise,” 

You’d barely finished speaking before Alexia was capturing your lips in a heated kiss, her tongue licking into your mouth, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip, in a manner that was almost overwhelming. She pulled away from you with a wet smack, her smile beyond devious as she took in your blown pupils, the downright submissive look on your face. 

“You want to prove to me you are my good girl?” She murmured, dragging her finger lightly down one side of your face, watching as your eyes fluttered shut, struggling to answer her. 

“Sí, por favor. Let me show you.” 

“Vamos, mí zorrita.” With that, Alexia swept you up into her arms easily, throwing you over her shoulder and heading for the bedroom. 

It wasn’t unusual for Alexia to take full control, as she was doing as she carefully placed on the ground, removing her clothes and directing you to do the same before scooching up the bed to lean against the headboard. What was new, though, was the feeling filling your body, like Alexia didn’t even need to ask you to do anything; you’d just do it if it was what she wanted. Making Alexia feel good would make you feel good. And Alexia knew better than anyone on the face of the earth what you needed. 

So, the minute she gestured for you to move on top of her, you were scrambling forward. Ignoring the slightly condescending smirk Alexia sent your way, and the blush that lit up your cheeks as she did so. 

Alexia settled you on one of her thighs, the smooth skin hitting your core perfectly. You barely contained a whine at the contact, and Alexia smirked up at you. 

“You are wet for mami, no?” 

“Yes, for you, only you,” you stuttered, feeling incredibly turned on considering Alexia had barely touched you at this point. 

Alexia’s voice was low and possessive when she spoke next.“You want to make a mess on my thigh, bebé?” 

“Yes, please,” you begged, her hands still keeping your hips completely still, even as you tried to grind down against her, 

“Yes please what?”

“Fuck, please mami, please,” 

“Buena niña,” she replied softly, the quiet, affection filled tone she was using making you fall against her, wrapping your arms around her neck almost desperately. Your motions were stuttering, no rhythm to them. Your head was too empty, your body too aroused to get you where you needed to be. “You need my help, bebé? You need mami to do it for you?” 

You thought you might be dying. Everytime Alexia said the word, you crumbled just a little bit more. You’d never felt this desperate, this needy before in your entire life. It was almost beyond words. You just needed her. And at the same time, you couldn’t do it yourself, couldn’t get yourself to move the right way. 

“Need you,” you cried out. Luckily, Alexia seemed to take mercy on you, her hands beginning to guide your core to slide against her thigh. She leaned up, pressing her lips to yours in a slow kiss, almost as if she knew you could only take so much at once. It was intoxicating, being pressed up against her, feeling her wet thigh on your dripping cunt, her hands in your hair, her teeth tugging on your lip. 

You whimpered pathetically into her mouth, encouraging her to speed her motions up. 

“Am I making you feel good, princesa? Tell me.” She murmured, pressing her forehead against yours, her face so close you could feel her hot breath on your lips. 

“So good, mami. You feel so good,” you whined, and Alexia almost moaned, too, at how entirely gone you sounded. 

“You are being so good for me, hmm? Do you like it when I take control? When I help you get yourself off on my thigh like a needy slut? Does it make your pussy drip, princesa?” 

“Jesus christ,” you replied, every word she spoke edging you closer and closer. It had been minutes, only minutes, and you were already about to fall apart on top of Alexia. 

“I want you to come on my thigh, sí?” She said lowly, and suddenly, as soon as she said the words, you were teetering on the edge, just one perfect movement away from coming. 

“Mami, fuck, please,” you gritted out, teeth clenching together as Alexia worked you harder and harder against her, until your body tensed for a minute, and you fell silent. 

“Que buena, princesa, que bonita.” The blonde woman whispered, watching your face in awe as you collapsed against her, breathing heavily. Her hands slowed their movements, until you were left rubbing yourself against Alexia’s thigh very slowly, and very jerkily. 

Alexia didn’t wait very long until she was easing you away from her, gripping your face in between her hands. 

“I want to fuck you,” she whispered, watching as your breath stuttered. “Can I fuck you?”

“Yes, mami, I need your cock,” you begged, knowing you said exactly the right thing when Alexia rolled you off her with a smirk, and headed for the bedside drawer. 

Alexia liked to fuck you from behind, more than anything. She loved your ass, loved to watching it as she fucked you, so you rolled onto your stomach, looking questioningly at her when she tapped your side. 

She was kneeled behind you, gazing down with a hungry look on her face. “No, on your back. I want to see your face when I fuck you wide open,” 

You barely withheld a moan, then, as you rolled over and spread your legs. Alexia roughly pushed them to the side, settling in between them, and plunging a finger into you without warning. 

“Shit,” you cried. 

“You are soaked, mi amor. You need mami to fuck you now?” She asked, quickly adding a second finger when it was clear you could take it. 

If anything was hotter than calling Alexia mami, it was hearing her call herself mami. 

“Need you, mami,” you repeated for what felt like the 8th time so far. It was all you could think or articulate. You just needed her. 

When Alexia pressed her cock in, you knew instantly that you wouldn’t be lasting very long. You were already gripping the bed sheets in your hands, and Alexia was already starting an unforgiving pace. 

Alexia fucked you harder than she ever had before, her hands pulling your hips to meet her thrusts, her thighs burning, her breath heaving as she worked herself in and out of you. She was getting worked up herself, watching the way her cock disappeared into your dripping cunt, the way your clit throbbed, the way you looked up at Alexia like she was the only other person in the world. 

You were so far gone, so lost in the pleasure, and you knew Alexia was getting close too by the way she whimpered every few thrusts, a sound very un-Alexia, but one that made you bite your lip all the same. You wanted more from her, needed more. And what did you have to lose, really?

“In me,” you muttered, almost completely incoherent as Alexia moved herself in and out of you. 

“Que?” she asked, not slowing down for even a second. 

“Inside me, please,” you begged, blinking up at her with a look in your eyes that she’d never seen before. 

Alexia was confused, momentarily. She was already inside of you. She watched you grow closer and closer, suddenly hit with your meaning. 

She pressed her hand down on your lower stomach, and your back arched right off the bed. You threw your head back, practically screaming at this point at the sensation. 

“Mami, mami, please,” you cried. 

“You want me to come inside you?” She gasped, absolutely pounding into you now. 

You nodded frantically. “Fill me up, mami, I need it” 

“Mierda,” Alexia groaned, she was close too, suddenly, even though normally the friction of the strap wasn’t enough to get her off. Everything you were doing, though, everything you were asking for was almost overwhelming to her, and it was all she could do to keep pumping in and out of you, moving her free hand to circle your clit. 

Your voice cut off abruptly, and your eyes slammed shut. You reached for your girlfriend, and she reached for you, too, removing her hand from your stomach and lacing her fingers with yours. Her forehead fell to your shoulder as she got louder than you’d really ever heard her.

“Gonna come, princesa, gonna come in your pretty pussy,”  she managed, her words making you shudder underneath her. 

It was the most intense thing you’d ever experienced. You felt yourself tighten around Alexia’s cock deep inside you, felt Alexia thrust one more time stop, frantically grinding herself against you as she, too, fell over the edge. Pleasure washed over the both of you, and you held tight to each other, as if your lives depended on it. 

When it was over, you fell limp into the mattress, every clenched muscle unclenching as Alexia’s full weight dropped on top of you. It was the most comforting sensation, her hand shakily running through your hair, her hot and rapid exhales on your shoulder blade as she came down. You were still throbbing around her, and it was becoming too much, she was too big, too deep. 

“Out, Ale, pull out,” you murmured. Alexia broke out of her mindlessness, sitting up and very delicately removing her cock. You whined deeply when she pulled it out all the way, brow scrunching as you squirmed underneath her. 

If someone had asked you your name or what club you played for at that moment, you weren’t sure you’d be able to respond. You weren’t sure you could form words at all, really, only capable of reaching out for Alexia again, and sighing happily when she laid back down, pulling you to lay flush on top of her. 

“Are you okay, amor?” She asked after a minute, when you still hadn’t spoken, and your eyes were still shut, face crammed into the crook of her neck. 

You only hummed in response, barely registering that she was speaking to you. That was not good enough for your girlfriend, though, and she rolled you both over, until she was hovering over your body again, finger delicately tracing a pattern on your cheek. You opened your eyes, a faint smile on your lips. 

“Bonita, are you okay?” She asked again. 

“So good, Ale. My god. So so good.” You promised her, your smile only growing when Alexia’s face broke into one of relief. 

“Muy buena,” she murmured, ignoring the annoyed whine you let out when she sat up off you. Alexia was undeterred, even when you reached out for her. The blonde left the room, briefly, and you felt your eyes inexplicably filling with tears. 

When Alexia returned with a water bottle and granola bar in hand, she quickly grew frantic when she saw the tears dripping down your face. She dropped the items onto the bed, sitting you up and pulling you into her, your back against her chest. 

“What is it, what is it?” She asked, panicked, wiping away the tears so gently, you almost started to cry again. 

“I don’t know,” you cried, the words somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” 

Again, Alexia deflated, relieved, knowing that she hadn’t upset you. “Okay, that is okay. Drink some water for me please?” 

The adorable grin on her face as she held the uncapped water out to you had you reaching for it without question, taking a few sips before handing it back to her. 

“You too.” You reminded her. Alexia dutifully took a few sips, placed the bottle back on the table, and manhandled you until you were laying down next to her, her body wrapped around yours. 

“Love you, love you, love you, love you,” she murmured in your ear, and you laughed in response, feeling happier than you think you’d ever felt in your whole life. 

“I love you so much.” You whispered back, feeling Alexia smile hugely into your neck. 

“Mi princesa,” she sighed. “How are you so perfect?”

“Because I’m with you,” you replied easily. “And you’re perfect.” 

Alexia disagreed. In fact, she thought the opposite. She wasn’t going to argue with you now though, not after you’d made her deepest desire come true. Instead, she tugged you closer, kissing your neck repeatedly. There’d be time to remind you of your perfection later. Now, though, both of you were drifting closer and closer to sleep, and all Alexia wanted in that moment was to hold you close to her forever. 

You’d happily let her. 

------ 

this has been in my wips for actual weeks im im thrilled to be done with her i hope you like :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot

[ncteez]

Too Reliable. (s.c.)

― part one here

Weeks after your best friend did you a “favor”, he’s pretending like it never happened. Which isn’t really working out for him because you both know it did, and you both liked it.  or the one where you’re mad that he’s not making things weird, so you take it upon yourself to make it weird. 

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog to be seungcheol’s bestie

WORDCOUNT― 12k

PAIRING― seungcheol x afab reader (ft. mingyu)

CONTENT― typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, mingyu hook up, it’s passionate but a lil angsty if ur a baby about it.

OTHER CHARACTERS― mingyu as the mutual friend/hook up, mentions soonyoung and others 

NOTE― it’s finally here! and nope, it’s not proof read. anyway……….here is ur dose of big dick best friend seungcheol being big and strong and soft and kinda pussy drunk (very pussy drunk) 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― mingyu hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up, finger fucking, pussy eating, raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cum eating, no mention of after care but it does happen off record, cheesy love stuff 

“Hey, um,” “Hmm?” Seuncheol hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice. “Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?” “Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice.  “Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?” “Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responded with confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him. 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Seungcheol went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Seungcheol. Sweet, caring, aloof, Seungcheol. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Seungcheol is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Seungcheol any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that time, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Seungcheol briefly mentioning Mingyu to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Mingyu be jealous of what happened that night? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Seungcheol was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Mingyu? Easy. 

Thankfully, Mingyu texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

~

Well, Mingyu sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Seungcheol for the past couple of hours. 

You lay there in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you and yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Mingyu a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Seungcheol, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Mingyu and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Seungcheol would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Mingyu was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Seungcheol is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked legs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Mingyu must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Seungcheol for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Mingyu whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Soonyoung? Jihoon? Fucking Wonwoo? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Mingyu goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging into you as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Seungcheol isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

~

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Mingyu did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Seungcheol did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Seungcheol will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Mingyu around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Mingyu. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Seungcheol, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Mingyu and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even ten hours after you left. 

“What?” Seungcheol responds questionably to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Seungcheol groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Seungcheol can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Soonyoung mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Mingyu.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Seungcheol reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Mingyu? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Mingyu that night, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Mingyu has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Seungcheol’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Mingyu? You want to fuck Mingyu?��� He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Seungcheol hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Seungcheol starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Mingyu? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Mingyu’s managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Mingyu never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Mingyu, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Seungcheol has heard that Mingyu knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Seungcheol, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Mingyu?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Mingyu. We aren’t dating, Seungcheol.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Seungcheol argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Mingyu is sending you and listening closely to what Seungcheol might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Seungcheol, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Seungcheol sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Mingyu’s tonight.”

“What?” Seungcheol’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Mingyu an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Mingyu.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he gets to you, again. Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “If Mingyu ever thinks he can touch you again, I’m going to break his arms. He knows how I feel about you.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Seungcheol being the friend who forbade Mingyu from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Seungcheol I know isn’t the Seungcheol everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to fuck me? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Seungcheol sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I felt like you didn’t want to be with me, and I needed you to want me somehow–” He explains with a shrug to himself. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of how good you tasted. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Cheol. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Seungcheol sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You still yourself at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Seungcheol you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Seungcheol tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Mingyu?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

~

“What the fuck?” Seungcheol deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Mingyu shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Seungcheol, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Seungcheol slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You asshole– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Mingyu with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don��t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Mingyu, shut up. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Mingyu’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Seungcheol knows Mingyu won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Seungcheol made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Mingyu lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Seungcheol for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Mingyu.” Seungcheol warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, I was just joking.” Mingyu plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Seungcheol rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Mingyu becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because he knows it’s a joke, and only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Mingyu could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Seungcheol, ever. 

~

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Seungcheol comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t even live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Seungcheol working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Seungcheol was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like this.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Seungcheol is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. “Two days too long, though.”

You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back. 

“We don’t have a lot of time to take it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling far too warm than you expected to. 

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

~

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Seungcheol’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me, and I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Seungcheol snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Cheol, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to have your legs wrapped around my neck since I got back?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Cheol, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you wanted to tame yourself. 

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Seungcheol’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Seungcheol. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Seungcheol, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the wrong moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the kisses he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Seungcheol, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Seungcheol’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Mi-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Seungcheol squeezes you tighter against you. “If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Mingyu’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. Noting that he's probably being serious about Mingyu, and you should lay off the jokes.

“Go, shower. I can imagine you probably taste bad anyway.” You joke again, feeling playful, excited, and so entirely ready to be anything he wants you to be. 

~

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Seungcheol could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Seungcheol is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Seungcheol may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on so quickly, and it’s not a surprise because, it’s you who has her lips on his. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your moan when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his length between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. He's amazed and feels entirely lucky to be the person doing this to you right now as his nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your chest. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips. He nibbles against the hardened nub, trying his hardest not to drool over how badly he's wanted to be in this very spot.

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally says, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pulling your loose shorts down along with the act, just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every corner of your arousal. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you everything his mouth could ever offer to this part of you. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state. His mouth is so warm, and his voice soothing your core through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue.

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers inside of you and pull back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Feels good?” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, you’re squeezing my fingers–” 

He can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the image, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated fingers to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

He can't help it, he wants to do so much and savor everything this moment has to offer. Savoring is difficult though, when you're lying there like this, spread out for him and him alone. He hopes that this continues, that you'll truly keep him. Because he is internally damning himself for not eating you out longer, for not curling his fingers into you for at least an hour more. But he's breaking, he can't stop himself from wanting to feel more, more, more.

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing you to sigh out at him. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants for as long as he wants it. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters out when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been hoping your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it against me.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite practically seeing the light leave his eyes and become replaced by a darkened, aroused gaze. You can feel the slick inside of you drip out with the way he's looking at you right now, and you're sure he can feel it too.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this actually, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Cheol–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

Showing that he truly can never get enough of you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can.

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if, or when, he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down, lying it over his own, and taking over to keep the pressure against his grinding length.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Will you let me?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and sound like this, then expect me to be gentle-” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when he’s looking at you like this, when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh my god–” He chokes out, sucking in a breath before letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes red when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you. 

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Cheol, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh.” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. Even more so, he fears he will always chase the feeling of how your walls squeeze his cock as if it intends to keep him in this position forever.

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against your ass before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that only seems to be becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“You make me never want to touch another person again,” Seungcheol suddenly chimes out, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his hips and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Clearing your mind in the way those words felt so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head to the side. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly what he wants from you. 

“Ahh, did that turn you on?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust now. As if you somehow managed to seem even more into it. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you know exactly what you’re doing.” 

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by then from this point forward. He doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to even try to make his words appear as a lie.

And then the room falls silent again, as if Seungcheol is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to release? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking above you and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest away from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself again, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Goddamn, I really cant.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his release ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fuck,” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Cheol, what the fuck!” You continue to groan in awe when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm with his tongue.

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone was enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out of your core, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster then he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles and whines at the fact that while he toppled, he lost the view of your shaking body come down from the very orgasm he caused for you. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you before flopping to the side.

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he slicks his tongue as if something has been confirmed in his head.

"Huh, when did you do this?" He asks, skewing his head deep into your pillows to present the bruise he can feel swelling on his neck.

You glance at the darkened spot, nearly forgetting you laid claim to him in such a way during the heat of the moment.

"Around the time you were fucking me into the next dimension, I'd say." You laugh lightly before shortly falling back into silence with him.

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Mingyu witness you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Mingyu is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Seungcheol glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in, all while still pressing against that bruise you created on his neck.

“Well,” He starts, “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Cheol, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach.

“Ew.” He groans. 

~

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Mingyu without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead somehow, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

#seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #scoups smut #svt smut

[thetriumphantpanda]

new perspective | joel miller

Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates. 

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.

“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”

You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.

As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.

It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.

You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.

“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.

You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.

“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”

“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”

You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.

“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”

“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”

Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”

He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”

You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.

“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.

It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.

“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.

“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”

You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.

“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”

“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”

“You too, Joel.”

It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.

There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.

Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.

It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.

You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.

And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”

Got him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.

“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”

He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”

“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”

“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Is that such a crime?”

“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”

“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.

He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.

You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.

Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.

You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.

You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.

“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”

“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”

“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.

He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.

“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”

You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”

You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.

You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.

There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.

You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.

“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”

Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”

“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”

“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”

“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”

“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”

You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.

“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”

You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.

“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”

You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”

He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.

“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”

You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.

“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”

Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.

“You look good like this.” He whispers.

“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.

“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”

You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.

You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.

Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.

“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”

He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.

“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”

You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.

There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.

You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.

“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.

“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”

“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us smut #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #Joel Miller Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller tlou #Joel tlou #Joel Miller the last of us #Joel the last of us #dbf!joel #dad's best friend #dbf joel miller

[ratridingaskateboard]

Always See Your Face

New girl! Reader x Eddie

Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.

Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!

A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --

--

Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.

Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.

She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.

What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.

Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.

"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.

"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.

Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.

"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.

The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.

"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.

It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.

"Okay, Y/N. This way!"

Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.

--

Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.

She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.

Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.

Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.

"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"

A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.

"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.

There was nothing but silence.

She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.

Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.

This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.

"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.

"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.

"Hey." She waved.

--

A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #SoundCloud

[nana-au]

Eren Jaeger Loves Taking Photos of You

₊˚ପ⊹ fluff + smut - MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ warnings: consensual photo taking, m! masturbation, oral m! receiving,  slight oral f! receiving, p in v sex lol (no protection) 

₊˚ପ⊹ word count: 1.3k

₊˚ପ⊹ not proof read im sowwy

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Eren loves taking photos of you. 

It reminds him of the first time he saw you - on Sasha’s private snap. You were in pajamas with your hair tied up out of your face. Your hand covered your mouth, obviously mid laugh when Sasha snapped the picture. He felt like he was gut punched, maybe even a little offended Sasha never mentioned you. Why would she? He doesn’t know, but he does feel betrayed. Mikasa was next to you, leaning on your shoulder for the picture. The caption: ‘movie night with these girls’ followed by a heart emoji. Maybe if he wasn’t so enthralled by you he would feel shame for sliding up, asking for your socials. I mean, if you're Sasha and Mikasa’s friend, it was only a matter of time you would be his too. What’s the harm in speeding up the process?

The second photo was a group photo. Jean, Connie, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Eren, and of course you. The group photo wasn’t his idea but he was adament it was taken on his phone. He noted you covered your smile again. He remembered making a mental note at the time that he needed to get you out of your shell. 

More photos followed after the night he convinced you your face was nothing to hide. You two still weren’t together yet, but the tension between you two wasn’t going unnoticed by the group. Your legs would rub against each other when you were sat side by side with him. He found any excuse to touch you. Adjusting your fly away’s, wiping the ice cream off your chin, whispering jokes in your ear to name a few. You did the same, shoving his shoulder when he said something cheeky. Or grabbing his biceps when walking side by side. You swore every time you grabbed him you would never get over how strong he felt. The night he told you he wished you weren’t so camera shy was the night you spilled your feelings to him. How you developed later in life and that you always felt behind your peers. You grew up the odd kid and you still struggled to fathom you weren’t still that awkward girl from high school. It was just the two of you on the loveseat of Armin and his shared apartment. He squeezed your thigh and his genuine eyes spoke to you before his words did. “You are really a sight for sore eyes.”

Even as just friends you felt more loved than you had ever felt from another human being before. Because of this, it felt incredibly natural becoming his girlfriend. The flash of his phone’s camera became more prevelant than before. He insisted taking pictures of you dressed up pretty for your dates or when you were sleeping soundly in his arms.

In the back of his mind he always knew the next step to his new hobby of photography. It came to a head one night with his hands in his pants while he panted against his pillow. His bottom lip was between his teeth and his fist was becoming sloppy imagining you spread open and allowing him to take a picture of it. Afterwards, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head, but he was still scared to bring it up to you. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable - you had only recently stopped shying away from his lense. He couldn’t ruin that for you. But the nights he pondered the mental image of you letting him capture your most delicate moments pushed him to the edge unbelievably fast. His hot cum would shoot onto his stomach and cover his hand. He used to think it was impossible for him to have such a large load until his fantasies started. 

He decided the digital form of your naked body was a no-go. That’s why he bought his first polaroid. He asked for your permission of course,  promising it would be kept between you and him only. He used it during the first time you went down on him. It was hard at first to lift up the camera, he was too lost in the pleasure of your tongue. Your mouth fit him perfectly even though you were nervous he would fit. He knew he would, and he knew you would make him feel this good. He massaged your jaw each time you took him deeper. His fingers lightly stroked your throat as he lined up the camera. Click. He set the photo down next to him, getting ready for the next. “Look at me sweet girl,” he cooed. Your eyes reached his. Click. Another photo joined him on the bed. You were on your knees in front of him, taking him in the back of your throat. You tasted the salty precum every time you ran your tongue against his head. His head lolled back for awhile, basking in the feeling of your tight throat. His hips moved into yours, but only lightly. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to wait till the end to see the developed photos but he couldn’t muster the patience needed. He picked up the last one he took, your doe eyes looking at him with pure love. He groaned, professing his undying loyalty to you and your warm wet mouth. You were such a good girl, wanting to swallow his cum when he came but he knew what needed to happen. He gripped your hair and pulled you off of him, requesting you to close your eyes. He spilled his seed all over your face, cumming loud against your features. When he was done he rubbed his tip against your lips and you opened your eyes, not expecting one final click. He praised you all day about how beautiful you were. That you were meant for the camera. 

You were most nervous for the day he wanted to take pictures of your wet pussy stuffed full with his cock. He spent an hour warming you up for it. Lapping at your clit with his tongue, using his index finger to tease the entrance of your pussy. He wouldn’t give it all to you, making sure to leave restless. Restless and ready. By the time he pushed himself in you were dripping against his cock. If he wasn’t so determined to photograph the moment he could have easily been lost in the bliss of your plush walls. He pushed himself as far as he could go, causing you to mewl out at how deep he was. His hand pressed down against your stomach and he snapped a picture. He allowed to lose himself for the moments it took to development. Skin slapping against skin as you gripped at his thighs. He made sure to praise you through all of it. Your pussy was heaven. You looked so sexy under him. You were such a good girl for letting him savor this for later. He pulled your legs completely over his shoulder, locking you in with one arm. The other lined up for yet another photo of his member deep inside you. He threw the camera down as it developed, going slow and sweet talking you. He needed to let you know how much he appreciated this. He reached down to play with your clit and you were quick to fall apart. You secretly loved the photos as much as he did. Seeing the ones of you taking his cock in your mouth turned you on more than you thought it would. You couldn’t wait to see the ones he was taking and you came hard at the thought of being able to see you stuffed full of him. He rode you through your climax before manipulating your body onto all fours, pounding you hard, determined to cum too. “You were made for me, huh?” He asked and you replied incoherently. Your walls gripped his length at the thought of what was to come; His semen that was about to spill into you.

He thought he would pass out once he finally saw it. His cum spilling out of your folds, you whining at the feeling. He lines up his camera one last time for the day. Click.

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot #eren smut #eren x reader #shingeki no kyojin #aot smut #eren x you #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x y/n #eren yeager x y/n #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin smut #attack on titan smut #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x you #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger x you #college au

[desireesfics]

bad habits.

pairing: dealer!ellie x reader.

summary: when you were a kid you had always put a pillow or a big stuffed animal between your legs, you honestly felt comfort by it. but tonight you decided it was going to be somebodies head.

warnings: uh widely ellie giving head?, use of drugs, girls kissing 🤯, swearing, a little bit of dacryphilia, pretty self-indulgent i know its weird im sorry — MINORS DNI !!

a/n: just because the strikes ended does not mean you shouldnt stop posting about palestine!

———————

you were helpless, depressed even. being locked up in your dorm for god knows how long. your friends had been nagging you about various parties on campus, you simply just left them on read, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of the party.

it wasnt until now that you had decided to go. not because you wanted to, you were going against your own will.

your friends, isabella, mattie and thea were forcing you out of your dorm because the state you were in right now was just honestly disgusting.

you were packing a bag to go over to isabellas house because they werent letting you stay in that dorm for a minute more, when thea said. “youve been stuck in here for forever, we havent seen you in awhile, we miss you girl.”

you sighed, reaching over to your closet to find an outfit appropriate for tonight. “look i know, things just havent been the best right now.” you didnt bother to look back because you know all thats going to be written on their faces will be pity.

“can you guys help me pick an outfit atleast?” they squeal, marching over to you before yanking you out of their ways.

mattie held up a dress, it was pink, delicate, something you would were on a picnic.

“dude, thats so basic.” isabella called out from the side, rolling her eyes at matties choice.

“i dont wear stuff like this— how would i fucking know?” she huffed.

“calm down guys, why dont we let ms depresso give us an idea of what she wants?” thea shouts over the teo annoyingly loud girls.

“i— depresso? seriously? not even funny.” you roll your eyes before pulling up pinterest on your phone, you always managed to find decent outfits off of the app.

you typed in ‘party outfits aesthetic.’ before you landed on something similar you had in your closet.

the outfit had a mini, mini, mini, mini black skirt paired with a black lettuce-cut, corset bralette looking thingy and just below that, knee-high boots. you admit it, you looked hot as fuck.

“damn girl, if i were gay id definitely hit you up.” way to go isabella, way to go.

“oh please youre totally into girls, youre acting like you dont eye that dina girl everytime we walk around her area on campus.” mattie adds.

isabella did everything in her will power to ignore the comment, but she couldnt help but blush.

the look of approval shot around the room was hilarious and you all burst out into laughter. you really havent felt this good in awhile.

quickly memorising the girl mattie had mentioned before, you could remember she would always be hanging around with someone else.

“hey, any of you know the girl dina hangs with? i cant think of her name.” you think hard, like really hard, you knew the girl was attractive from all the times you had seen her since isabella coincidentally hung there too.

“yeah, her names ellie, i buy from her sometimes. why, you got the hots for her?” thea teases.

“just shut up and give me her insta.” you roll your eyes, playfully shoving the girl as the two others made ‘oooooh’ sounds.

“fine, just give me a second.” thea whips out her phone and starts going through her following. she clicks on a profile and holds the phone up to you so you could get a good look.

her account was private, by the looks of it she had a batman smoking weed profile picture? interesting.. her user was ‘@ellieisawesome327.’

sounds like a name some 5 year old would put on secretly. “oh, interesting.” you couldnt help but giggle, she obviously wasnt the best at using this stuff.”

you pulled out your phone and searched for her user, you didnt follow it just yet, you thought it would be creepy since she didnt know you at all. you simply just kept the name in the search bar, ready for when you actually want to follow her.

———————

a few hours had passed and you all had gotten done up, makeup, hair, outfits, everything you would do before a party.

“whos car we taken’?” mattie asked. you and the others looked at her like she was some idiot.

“theres only one car in the driveway, take a guess numbskull?” thea pointed out, mattie pouted.

“rude.” she huffed. turning around to scroll on tiktok.

you were sitting on the bed, getting comfy since the party wasnt for another hour, when you spotted one of isabellas pillow. you had put it between your legs, you found some comfort in doing that ever since you were a kid, it was a weird and bad habit.

“whatre ya’ doin silly?” isabella pointed out, she sort of new you had this weird habit of putting things between your legs.

“getting comfy, what does it look like?” you roll your eyes, scrolling through your instagram feed.

“if you actually want something between your legs, try and get head tonight.” isabella added. it was a harmless joke, your group had always joked like this. you toned out the muffled giggles in the back thinking if you should actually get laid tonight.

it had been awhile since you had had sex, and it was getting annoying hearing everyones ‘wild’ stories.

you tool the pillow out from between your legs and threw it back into its position it was in before.

“you guys think we should get going? the parties in twenty minutes.” thea said. you all nodded and got up from your positions to march off to the car.

the drive was ten minutes, you put on your group playlist, it was made for roadtrips you guys took every once and awhile. but tonight you just needed to hear something other then their voices.

you were all vibing to the music when it eventually came to a stop. you sighed and got out of the car, shivering as the cold wind hit your very exposed body.

everyone walked in, it wasnt exactly packed, but you hesitated and mattie noticed that.

mattie was the average femme grouped masc. the one to carry around the shopping bags when you went shopping kind of girl. she was sweet, there were times where you had found yourself harmlessly crushing over her. she knew you had a bit of anxiety and offered you some of her meds before leaving but you kindly declined.

now obviously regretting your decision, she gripped onto your hand and squeezed it tight, for reassurance. you smiled and walked in with the others.

———————

it had been 2 hours and the group had split, isa probably off eating dinas face off, mattie chatting with some of the guys from a basketball team she had played against when faking being a guy as a dare, and thea off buying or even selling drugs. you were sat on a dusty old couch, not exactly wasted but definitely not sober.

you hadnt noticed you were sitting next to the girl whos instagram you were stalking earlier. but the realisation hit when you smelt weed from her direction.

she was very obviously eye fucking you, she wasnt even shy about it, it couldve been the weed that was in her system or she was wildly bold.

“hey?” you started off your soon long to be conversation.

“hi.” she was caught off guard when she realised you were talking to her.

“ellie right?” she nodded and you exchanged your name to her, along with numbers. you sat back further into the couch, parting your legs a little giving her a slight view of what was under you skirt. you enjoyed the fact that she was looking. a little smirk appeared on your face and she didnt notice it.

“my friend thea buys from you right?” she snapped her head up to look into your eyes. you noticed the green in her eyes under the blue hue of the lights in the room. she nodded,

“yeah why? wanna buy from me?” you shook your head.

“kinda tight on money right now, i would though.” you sighed, resting your head on your hand.

she thought for a minute. “ill share a blunt with you, only coz’ youre cute.” she winked and you blushed.

“oh, thanks..” you stare off awkwardly waiting for her to light it, she was wondering if she made you uncomfortable.

“s—sorry, didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.” you shook your head a smiled before she handed you the joint.

you took a puff and handed it back to her, waiting a bit before exhaling. you noticed she was manspreading. then you noticed she didnt quite look like any other girls that were at the party, very masculine. is she lesbian? no surely not, maybe she just likes being comfortable.

ellie was wearing a worn-out jacket, joels. she wore it everywhere she went.

she caught you staring at the position she was in, fighting the urge to spread them further. you noticed she was holding back from something and looked up at her, oh shit she caught you.

a shit eating grin was plastered on her face. “you ‘kay?” she asked, the same smug expression written all over her face.

you nodded and took the blunt out of her hand. you were blushing under the dim lights in the corner, the rest of the place was filled with colourful lights changing every second.

she started blushing too, she didnt know why. you looked up to her with parted lips. the high kind of kicking in now.

“can i.. kiss you?” you asked softly. you regretted that so hard, fuck fuck fuck she probably doesnt like girls..

she moved closer, draping a hand over your shoulder. “thought youd never ask.” she smirked before smashing her lips onto yours.

the kiss was hungry, like she was desperate for something, you couldnt quite place your tongue on it. the only thing placed on your tongue right now was hers. you kissed her back with just as much passion.

the moans you let out were absolutely pornographic. ellie knew she had to do something about this, stopping the kiss whilst you let out a whine from the lack of attention.

you were borderline wet, like waterpark wet, and it wasnt helping that you were wearing a flimsy skirt that had rode up in the process.

“cmon’ princess.” she took your hand, you felt a bit clumsy for some reason, dizzy, your head was foggy, only thinking about how good she tasted.

you followed her around as she knocked on various locked rooms. finally breaking one open, she slammed it shut, locking it and pressing you up against it. not to hard though, wouldnt wanna hurt your pretty little head.

“fuck, youre so goddamn hot.” she mumbled between kisses. you couldnt help but moan at how turned on she made you feel.

she pushed her knee up between your thighs and you shivered, grinding down onto it. chasing the very needed friction.

you wondered how such an innocent question like ‘can i kiss you?’ turned into you riding on her knee.

“els’, please..” that shit eating grin reappeared on her face and you just wanted to smack it right off, you rolled your eyes. your words and wetness only boosted her ego more.

“please what baby?” she teased. why was she teasing you? you couldnt take it. tears started bubbling in your eyes.

“please just— fuck me.” you mumble out. she liked the sight of you crying, so desperate for her. she was going to tease you more before you actually got what you wanted.

“what was that?” she smirked.

you looked up at her through teary eyes. “can you, uh— go down on me? please?” you were begging, that was a sight.

she pulled you over to the bed, through the dimly light room. “strip.”

you did as she said, it wasnt hard to take off your clothes since there was barely anything on you. first your top, leaving you in a skimpy black lacy bra to match your underwear. then came the boots and skirt.

finally, leaving you in a two piece set. she was waiting patiently for you to take them off. you dont know why you were so hesitant, maybe it was because you hadnt done this in awhile, or maybe it was because her stare was so intense it made your stomach do flips, distracting you from the easy task.

she walked over to help you since you couldnt finish what you had started. “d’ you want this?” you nodded painfully slow.

she peeled off your underwear, holding them up to get a good look before back down to your now bare cunt. it was dripping at the sight of her.

“s’ wet for me princess.” she smirked once more, if she smirked anymore her face would probably get stuck like that.

then came the bra, she asked you to turn around so she could unclip it, she was slightly struggling since she wasnt used to these fancy bras, only because she wears a sports bra.

you giggled and reached your arms behind you to take it off, turning around to leave her ogling at the sight of you.

“youre so beautiful.” you blushed, hard. she looked up at you for some sort of reassurance and you nodded.

a minute ago she was so dominant and now shes sweeter than a cookie. you adored that.

she reached her hands out to cup your tits, so soft, she thought. squeezing them and pinching your now hardened, pebbled nipples.

she elicited a moan out of you. you sat back on the bed for comfort and she dived into them. sucking harshly on your tits.

you couldnt tell if you hated it or loved it, your monas were telling her otherwise.

she left purple marks all over your neck, tits, stomach, anywhere she could mark really. you were huffing, all you needed her to do was touch you down there.

“patience baby.” she replied to your subtle huffs. you rolled your eyes, pleading with your body language as you rolled your hips into nothing.

her head moved down slowly, taking time with your body as if you werent some one night stand. did she actually like you?

she kissed all over your stomach and you felt giddy, you were giggling at how it tickled.

the she dipped her head low, taking in how soaked you were. the whole time you had been rubbing your thighs together. any subtle touch made you go crazy.

she fully dived in, and you moaned her name out, loud enough to here over the booming music. “e-els!” she teased your clit with her tongue, licking a stripe down, giving your clit kitten kisses.

her tongue reached places your fingers couldn’t surprisingly. you couldnt stop panting. it felt like heaven.

your vision was going blurry, white, if the coil in your belly bubbled anymore it was going to snap. “ellie.. i—im gonna!..” she moaned into your pussy, sending hypnotising vibrations into it.

“i know baby, come for me.” those words was the thing that snapped the bubbling coil.

you felt hot slick pool out of you, she lapped up all she could, almost overstimulating you. you were panting.

she got up and laid beside you, toying with your plush tits. you could almost fall asleep right then and there.

“alright,” she patted your thigh. “i gotta get going, heres my number though.” she pulled out a random piece of paper from her pocket and a pen. had she been preparing for this? you thought. she handed you the note like a little kindergartener and put her shirt back on.

you had the sudden urge to shove a pillow between your legs, whining from the loss. you fought back everything in you to shove the pillow that was staring at you between your legs. you watched ellie leave,

she left you on the bed looking back at you to smile before closing the door behind you. you eventually got up and put your clothes on, walking over to the bathroom that was in the small room to fix up your hair and makeup.

you realised your hand was still clutching that little piece of paper. you looked at it and read it slowly, still regaining composure.

‘**** **** **** **** message me ;) x’

you probably werent going to message her, but just incase, you slipped the note into your purse and walked out of the room going to look for you friends to take them home, luckily ellie had sobered you up.

———————

a/n: im sorry the ending actually sucks i was getting sick of this and i needed to get it out of my drafts. should i turn it into a series were reader actually messages ellie? idk.

#lesbian #ellie williams #ellie x reader #lgbtqia #i need ellie bro #wlw #bad habits #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie is so hot #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut

[russellsppttemplates]

Reader being self conscious with her body after having her and Charles last baby (i forgot his name im so so so sorry!) and Charles, Herve and Amelie just like complimenting her and not understanding how good it makes her feel

Note: don't worry, there are so many kids in this blog, even I have to go and check paddock daycare once in a while!

Cw: reader's insecurity about her postpartum body

You sometimes wondered if Charles noticed all the ways your body changed to accommodate motherhood, especially now having had your third baby. But then you were easily showered with compliments from everyone around you, and you swore Charles, Hervé and Amélie were having a competition on who could give you the most compliments.

"Mama! You look so pretty!", Amélie said, hugging your legs as you prepared your water bottle so you could feed baby Thomas once you sat down, "thank you, ma belle, the hairstyle papa did on you is very pretty, too", you replied.

"Papa! Have you seen mama today? She has a new dress!", Hervé pointed out as you joined the boys in the living room, "This is an old one actually, I've had it since you were a baby, Hervé", you reasoned, suddenly feeling shy with all eyes on you and also feeling a little more beautiful.

The warm temperatures called for a day outside in the pool, the kid excited to have Thomas spend a little bit of time in the water even if Charles just wet his feet since he was only a couple of weeks old, "you're not getting in, mama?", Hervé asked, "your swimsuit makes you look like a princess".

Just on cue, Thomas started crying, recognising it was his hungry cry, "I'm afraid Thomas needs me, I'll swim later", you said as Charles helped you grab Thomas so you could go and feed him.

Your little boy ended up falling asleep on your chest, milk drunk against your skin that was exposed from the neckline of the swimsuit, all while Amélie got out of the pool, wrapping herself in the towel and having Hervé follow suit once Charles mentioned snack time.

"You're so comfy to sleep on, mama", Amélie whispered as she climbed on you after you assured her it would be fine, grasping some of the fabric of your cover up and leaving your hips exposed, the stretch marks fully on show as you thought about all of it. Your body was all of your three kids' first home, providing them comfort, warmth and safety, and now that they were out, you were still those exact same things for them. And they loved you no matter what.

"Do you have room for me?", Hervé asked as he stepped closer to the sun lounger, "Come here, amour", you said as you patted your side, having Hervé cuddle up to you and resting his hand on your tummy mindlessly, sighing happily.

A few moments later, Charles stepped outside, taking the scene in front of him in and laughing loudly, "I don't suppose there's space for me on there, hm?", he smiled.

"I think we can make some room", you said, adjusting your position so Charles could lay closer to your thighs, "maybe there?", you giggled, seeing him happily scoot closer to your and intertwining your legs.

"Don't laugh, amour, I want to touch you too!", Charles said as he achieved what he wanted while his hand squeezed your thigh, "it's not my fault you are such an amazing mama and that we all want a little bit of you!", he chuckled, kissing your temple.

"You really think so?", you wondered, "this is all you, amour, how kind, amazing and great you are - why do you think I'm nearly fighting Hervé for this?", he said as the little boy kept inching closer to you, "she's my mama, you should've gotten her first", your oldest son said before Amélie let out "I agree", making him shake his head as he smiled, "thing is I did get here first, actually, like years before all of them", he chuckled.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

SUMMARY : In which you let your husband take your virginity on your wedding night.

PAIRINGS: Dilf Taehyung x virgin reader

WORD COUNT :2K

SMUT WARNINGS: Unprotected sex (off course) ,cum eating, oral f. Eating out over panties, fingering, squirting, mention of blood (her cherry popped)! Titty sucking, aftercare ladies <3

A/N: A little something as I’ve reached 1k heheh thank you so much lovelies and i hope you liked this one and thank you my love 💖 @jj-one who helped me with this one and also @kingofbodyrolls who made this sexy banner💖

The beach was filled with fragrant blooms, an array of white and pink tulips adorned the set up, a gentle breeze softly tickles the groom's hair and he smiles looking at you walking hand in hand with your father holding a small bouquet of lilies.

Your wedding veil cascades down your back, complementing the silk lace and pearls embroiled on the dress, making you feel like a fairy princess. Nervously walking down the aisle with your father you blush the moment you see your husband, soft music and doting cheers follows in the background the moment you took each step.

Soon reaching upon you face the love of your life Kim Taehyung, your dad places your hand on your husband’s and some tears brim his eyes, asking him to always protect you and keep you happy forever. He chuckling upon his request, promising to keep you happy for the rest of his life while kissing the back of your palm and whispers "you look so beautiful my love." You visibly chuckle and mutter him a small "thanks, you look handsome as well".

You never thought you would end up with your casual fling that you met from an app, remembering it was one of your friends who had signed you up on the app after you broke up with your toxic ex. On the other side, Taehyung's friend, Jungkook, had signed him up when divorced his wife, thinking it was a good idea to get out of the grief and have some fun.

Your interests he was afraid if he came clean about his son you would leave.

He was sure he had fallen in love with you over the past year from just chatting and calling each other daily. It made him feel like he was a young man again and not a 38-year-old man who had a kid who would depend on for a few more years.

Taehyung was also afraid of the 16-year-old age gap, thinking it was too soon for you to commit to a lifelong relationship which included a child.

He had enough of it when he finally decided to take you on a date and coming clean about it. He came fully prepared to tell you about his son and break this situation you were in, he liked (read: Loves) you, but he didn't want you to live with the pressure of living with a child as you were young, and you had so much to experience.

In the cozy coffee shop, soft jazz played in the background while you nervously fidget on the chair, summing up the courage to tell him that you had started liking him and can see a future together. The man in front of you gave a crooked smile, continuing to surf through the menu.

"What will you have Y/n?" Taehyung asks as he skims each and every item written on the menu, his leg bouncing under the table due to anxiety.

"I love you Taehyung," you say at the same time as he began talking, he goes blank, the menu dropping from his hands while you mentally facepalm at yourselves. "Fuck I shouldn't have dropped this bomb this early.”

"What?" Taehyung gasps and then visibly gulps, and you return a crooked smile back. "Yes tae, I love you I've been loving you for a while now.." you confess once again, and he shutters "We-ll y/n m-e too" he says as if he's exclaiming, and you smile wide.

"But wait y/n, before I properly confess I want to tell you something," Taehyung nervously adds, becoming restless. Observing his moments you grab his spare hand which rested on the table and tell him to calm down.

"Y/n, you know I’m divorced, right? But I'm sorry I have hidden something very big from you, I have a five-year-old son Yi-hyun" he says, and you gasp "Oh my god, tae why did you hide this for so long?" you question, he fiddles with his fingers and explains his insecurities and chances of you leaving him.

"No tae, I would never, in fact, I love children and I would really love to spend my whole life with you." You blush as those words come out and Taehyung giggles, "I'll be more than glad and feel honored to stay with you for the rest of my life."

Taehyung gazes into your eyes, his eyes full of love and promises, the gentle breeze makes the few whips of your flix fly, and he thinks you look so pretty, soon the calm breeze carries out your wedding vows and seals all the promises of this lifetime commitment.

Yi-hyun stands right in the middle of you and Taehyung's parents, an uproar of cheers and claps filled the atmosphere when you exchange your rings. Glancing at him, you give a flying kiss and he acts to catch it, your husband won't stop at looking you with heart eyes.

It was soon evening while you and your husband basked in the warmth of newly wed love, surrounded by all your supporting family and friends. He occasionally steals a few kisses from you when you both slow danced and enjoyed the dance until it was time to make your grand exit and walk hand in hand till you reached your car.Your parents insisted on keeping your son for a couple of days until you come back from the honeymoon.

"Yi- hyun, don't trouble your grandparents okay baby? Be a good boy for me and your mom okay?" Your husband tells your son and he nods , he kisses yours and his father's and climbs down from his grasp and tells you both a "goodbye".

"Let's go baby been waiting for this day ever since I met you, gonna fuck you hard," Taehyung says with lust-filled eyes, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He lays a few soft pecks, soliciting a gasp from you, letting out the smallest whimper of his name.

The ride to your house was short, your husband helped to get you out of the car and quickly thanked the driver, not even a minute later your back meets the door of your penthouse as your husband starts to devour your mouth with his, heavy kisses full of spit coats your lips.

You were taken aback for a few seconds until your mind processes his action, kissing your lover back with the same burning passion, you struggle a bit until you get the keys from the back pocket of Taehyung's pants.

"One Sec baby, let me just open this, and we can go inside," you say almost breathlessly in between kisses, turning around. Once inside, both you and his clothes join the ground soon. "I'll go slow baby okay? It's your first time, right? Gonna savour every last moment of this." Taehyung assures you, and you nod.

Never in your twenty-two years of living did you have sex with your boyfriend. Sex was a whole different thing you’ve yet to experience but you weren't a saint when it came to it either, the curious teen in you would look up porn and even tried masturbating before, but you just didn’t feel anything from it, you thought you were doing something wrong.

Taehyung helped you to get comfortable in the bed whilst he removes the last piece of his clothing, his boxers, while you had kept your panties on, feeling your cunt coating the plumpness of his lips with your slick. You moan at the movement as he hovers above you, "ready baby?" your husband sweetly asks, you nod and voice a simple "yes.”

Soft, gentle kisses are first felt on your neck and the light touch of his fingertips tickles your lower belly, coming dangerously close to your core. His nimble fingers nudge the bow on your lace panties, sucking in your breath when he slowly goes down to explore the rest of your body, sucking on your skin lightly as he trails his way down. Soon purple hues are decorated all over you.

Once he faces your core, his hot breath leaves you tingly inside, whimpering out his name as he slowly licks a wet strip of over the fabric of your panties and sucks on the ball of your clit, repeating his languid motion again and again, his eyes watching you above him. You’re left nothing short of a moaning mess, "fuck feels so good tae, just like that baby.." you express him how good he’s making you feel when he sucks and licks you over your panties, this new sensation was like no other.

Soon after a while he completely removes them off your body, groaning at the mess you made and his fingers rub over it so he could have some of you on his fingers. "Open baby" he affirms, you ecstatically take them in your mouth sucking off each finger one by one, he chuckles and bites back a moan. He thinks you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen.

"Gonna finger you baby, stay calm okay? I promise it's gonna soon feel okay." He assures and slowly inserts one of his fingers, you moan out loud as it feels different from what you felt while playing with yourself.

One finger soon turned into two and you felt something weird coming out, "Taehyung stop-stop, something's coming out," you breathlessly warn but he tells you to go on and doesn’t stop fingering you, only upping his pace. Liquid soon gushes out, "fuck baby, pretty girl" never failing to fluster you and make you blush, shying away and looking everywhere but his eyes.

His frame hovers above yours and tells you to rest properly, "Baby, is it okay?" He asks before continuing. His hard cock brushing over your soaked pussy lips, itching to be inside your warm cunt, his fingers part your lips while you involuntarily twitch, feeling weightless as his thumb rubs gentle circles along your sensitive clit. "Ready y/n? Look we don't have to do it tonight you can always back out baby" he says while you whimper at the loss. "N-no want it so bad I can take it" you eagerly said, leaning in to kiss his lips. "It might hurt at first, but then it's going to be okay, I promise my darling." With that, he slowly aligns himself with you and enters inside, causing you to both moan in unison.

Kissing your forehead to calm you down when he sees faint tears brimming your eyes, he pulls out just enough so he can spit in between you two to make the slide much easier. He notices some blood as you were still a virgin— up until now, beads of sweat drip from the sides of him and some of it lands onto your boobs. He attached his lips to suckle them, seeing your pretty mouth open wide and decides to slip his finger in, your body rises a bit when he tells you to see the bloody mess and you whimper while he pets your head with his other hand.

"Calm down baby you’re gripping me so hard.." he groans from the way you’re sucking him up and you try your best to relax your muscles and try to enjoy this feeling while occasionally kissing him, moaning at his touches. He rests his forehead on top of yours and soon he cums inside, gasping from his overwhelming orgasm, he slowly pushes himself up and removes his now softened cock. You feel the cum dripping down to your ass. “Wait up baby, I'm gonna get something to clean you up.” He smiles dotingly and you nod back at him.

Soon he cleans you both up and brings you a glass of water to drink, he’s cuddling with you as his fingers lace with yours. Soft kisses resound the room until you both knock down in each other's embrace.

You decide to wake him up with a good, morning blow job but who knew it would be him to be waking you up instead.

#Taehyung smut #kim taehyung #kim Taehyung smut #kim Taehyung fanfiction #Kim Taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #Taehyung fluff #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #v smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #Dilf Taehyung #Virgin reader #cherry prick #bts v #Bts #bts fanfic bts smut

[literaila]

hey

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you're both drunk and (not) in love

warnings: alcohol mentions, angst if you're me, fluff, nonsensical conversation

a/n: i will be messing with this later but if i have to think about it for any longer i'll cry (also listen to be (acoustic) because i said so)

last part | next part

*

year four.

the house is almost silent, tonight. 

usually, at close to midnight, it's quiet. the house will buzz as the furnace works, the house settling itself into the earth, but there's none of the laughter that echoes throughout the hallways like it does during the day. no names being yelled across a threshold, much too loud for the size of the house itself. 

the kids are always in bed this late, and usually you and satoru are too--besides the nights where you stay up talking or arguing, speaking with soft voices for so long that your throat is sore by morning.

those are the nights when you fall asleep on the couch together, or you migrate to one of your rooms, speaking nothing of the broken rules in your relationship. 

satoru's bed is a lot more comfy than yours, anyway. his blankets are heavier and his pillows are fluffier. 

or that's what you usually think to yourself in the morning when you wake up there once again. it's an excuse, sure, but at least it's more reasonable than reality. 

but tonight is quiet because the kids aren't home. and it's almost midnight, and the two of you are just walking in through the door. 

and, admittedly, you're a little bit drunk. 

"don't--" you say, laughing languidly, tripping over satoru's legs as he pushes the door open. it took him five tries to unlock it, but you don't say anything, because everything looks a bit uneven. "don't forget to shut it all the way."

satoru ignores you. "why are all of the lights off?" 

you step over the tiny shoes left by your front door, almost tripping on air, and flick on the lights. you squint at the brightness, groaning.

but the lights do nothing to ease the eerieness of the hallway. 

you can't remember the last time you came home this late. the last time you had a night without the kids. 

it's probably why the two of you went a little overboard at the bar. but it's hard to keep up with shoko anyway, so it's not really your fault. 

satoru hiccups. "why don't we have night vision?" 

"humans suck," you answer, trying to kneel to take off your shoes, which are pinching at your feet. 

"true," he says, kicking his own sneakers against the wall. his jacket is already off, and on a normal night you would chastise him for not hanging it up, but at the moment you've kind of forgotten about the coat rack. 

and how to think properly. 

"did you--" you shake your head, looking at satoru, who seems to be upside down. "did you lock the door?" 

"of course i did, i'm not a heathen." 

but you see him rattle the doorknob, clumsily, and that must satisfy you because you walk out of the hallway, into the living room, which is just as dark as the rest of the house. 

it's strange that no one else is home. strange that there's no one to tuck in, no room to peek your head in before you pass out. 

"how late is it?" you ask satoru, who's following so closely behind you that you almost fall back into him when you stop. 

"dunno." 

"is there someone here? i feel like i'm in a horror movie," you turn to satoru, who's squinting around like he'll be able to see something in the dark room. "where are your glasses?" 

"dunno," he says, with a grin. and then hiccups again. 

you roll your eyes, but grab his hand as you pull him along the house, trailing to one of your rooms--you can't remember which--and forcing yourself to take off your socks before you climb into bed. 

it's a good thing that both of the kids are gone because neither of you are exactly quiet as you walk through the house. satoru is tripping every step, and you're holding onto all of the walls trying not to do the same. 

seriously, neither of you ever get out. 

and, in the blink of an eye, you're in someone's bed--hopefully yours--nuzzling yourself under the blankets. your head is swirling, and you can't see anything, but satoru is there, you think, because you can feel him. 

like a buzz on your skin as his hand trails up your arm, and he pulls you into him, probably. it's all fuzzy. and you don't care what he's doing anyway--you trust him, even drunk. 

"i'm never drinking again," you mumble as you turn, wiping something off of your face.

satoru laughs. his breath on the side of your cheek makes you blink. "you said that last time, i think." 

"i was right." 

"lightweight," he teases like he isn't slurring the word. 

he's so very close, and yet, you curl your leg around his, trying to get yourself even closer. 

satoru doesn't complain as you move, as fast a dream, and then you're lying on top of him. 

maybe it's not his bed. maybe he's the comfortable one. 

you blink hazily at his smile and press a chaste kiss on his jaw like it's an appropriate thing to do. 

you can't think of anything to say, so you just hum into his skin as you settle in. you kinda want to lick him.

"why're you so cold?" he asks you, rubbing your arms. 

you don't respond. 

being with him is like walking on top of everything else. walking on nothing at all, actually. 

his hands wrap around your waist, secure and sure, like he's never hesitated a day in his life. and you think, just for a moment, that you've never been warm like this.

that maybe you've been living in a tundra. maybe that feeling in your core has been frozen for so long, and satoru is the only thing warm enough to defrost it. 

but it takes a long time. that hurt, that fear eased in the edges of your soul cannot be cleared out with a single burst of flame. 

though satoru is not one single thing. 

but, nonetheless, his hands on you, holding you to him, are enough for now. 

his eyes--with nothing to stop them from reaching you, like a blindfold or lens--have always been far more than you wanted. 

but he's looking at you, so you can't think about any of it.

you want to tell him something, but you’re not sure what. there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out. but it stays hidden, a secret you’re keeping from even yourself.

his eyes are on yours, focused and sure, pupils blown.

you kind of want to laugh at him, because inhibitions make you giddy. and satoru has always been something that excites you. 

his face echoes with the memories of two children, two foolish kids who never understood just how good they had it. 

have it. 

"do you think i'm strong?" satoru asks you, still slurring, and he's joking. he's been quiet for a while, so you don't know where this is coming from. on a normal night, you'd probably be concerned about the question. 

but tonight you just giggle against him, tracing the slope of his eyebrow, which makes his face twitch. 

with your other hand, you pretend to feel around his arm like you'll find anything but muscle. "hmm," you pinch his bicep, giddy when he flinches from your touch. "i guess. might wanna hit the gym, though." 

you think you might die from just the way he's looking at you. 

"you're a bad liar," satoru grins at you. he's breathing heavily through his mouth like you've exhausted him. 

"so are you," you tell him. 

"says who?" he asks, and he's lying to you right now. 

"me. remember when you tried to convince me that you painted that portrait in the hallway?"  

"i did," satoru swears, but he shakes his head as he says it, looking away. 

a bit of reprieve for you, but you still tilt his chin back. you want his eyes.

"see? bad liar." 

"i get it from you." 

you grin at him, not sure what it means. 

"if you died, would you come back to haunt me?" satoru asks you, suddenly. like the question is significant, in some way. 

"if i die you'll already be a ghost," you say to him, "because you're dying first." 

"no, i'm not." 

"do you want me to die?" 

he pretends to think about it. "well, no, i guess. but if you did, would you haunt me?" 

"definitely. i'd throw things around the house for you to clean up. and mess with your conditioners." 

"so you're an evil ghost." 

"just a bit of karma for letting me die." 

"i'd avenge you," satoru argues. 

"i don't want to be avenged," you roll your eyes. "just keep me alive."

"oh, yeah. guess i could do that." 

"you guess?" 

"i mean... it's a lot of work. i'll have to look at my schedule." 

"next time i go on a mission i'm going to come back hurt just to see you freak out. maybe i'll lose a limb. or some brain damage? which is worse?" 

satoru, who squirms around a paper cut, gives you a plagued look. "i'm going to tell yaga about the threats you're making." 

"like he'd believe you." 

"i'll lock you in the basement. you'll never go on another mission again. there, i solved our problem. you never leave the house and i don't have to worry about keeping you alive." 

"we don't have a basement." 

"oh. right," he frowns. then he blinks, and the smile is back. 

"also, i keep you alive every day. you can't return the favor?” you sigh. “i'm being exploited." 

he raises a brow. 

"who do you think hides all of the sweets?" you ask him. "the kids aren't eating all of those." 

"where'd you put my pocky?" 

"you'll never know." 

"i'll torture you for information. i know where you're ticklish." 

you squirm away from his seeking hands, but don't move. you grasp one, stopping him from touching any further than your side. "i'm not scared of the man who won't even remove his hair from the drain after he showers." 

satoru makes a face. "but it's all slimy and weird." 

"it's your hair! stop making megumi do it." 

"i feed him. he can help out." 

you have to keep yourself from giggling again, like a foolish girl who’s in love with her best friend.

you roll your eyes and fall flat against him, letting go of his hand, even though it's very soft, and you relax on his chest. there's a moment where satoru settles into this--into you--and then his hands begin to roam the expanse of your back.

"if i was a ghost," satoru whispers, "i would lay on top of you in the morning so you couldn't get out of bed." 

"like a sleep paralysis demon?" 

"yup." 

"dont you already do that?" 

he licks his lips. "it'd be scarier if i was invisible." 

"can ghosts touch people? i don't think they're tactile." 

"i'm not like a normal ghost." 

"not like normal anything." 

satoru nudges his nose against your forehead in retaliation, but he doesn't argue. it's not like he can, anyway. 

"hey," you whisper, after a moment. you're looking up at him, admiring the slopes and concaves of his face at this angle. his eyes almost make his face glow, his own personal light. 

"hey." 

"do you think the kids are awake right now?" 

"no," satoru sighs. "nanami probably put them to bed at six. after feeding them straight broccoli." 

"i told him their routine..." you mumble. "i think." 

"d'ya think megumi'll haunt us?" 

"he'll never die," you tell him, "just out of spite." 

"true." 

"you can't haunt him, okay?" you say, very seriously, giving him a flat look, which he laughs at. "when you die he deserves some peace." 

"no promises." 

you poke his chest but have no answer. actually... you're not even really sure what you're talking about. or that it matters. 

there’s something in your mouth, ready to come out.

but satoru is still warm. he smells like bitter alcohol and bubblegum. 

"hey," you whisper, again, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. you’re not sure what you’re doing.

he is blurry this close, but you can still see all of him. you'd know his face if you went blind, behind a mask. you could black out--you probably will--and he'd still be there. 

"hey," he murmurs back. his voice is like a punch to the throat. but his smile is effortless.

"you're pretty," you whisper, as you think it. "and sweaty." 

satoru's looking down at you, and his smile stays the same. his breath is on your face, sugary sweet. "so are you." 

"i know." 

satoru laughs, his knuckles running across your cheekbone. it almost makes you shiver. "pretty," he whispers like it's a joke. 

"why're your eyes so blue?" 

"wavelengths, or something. didn't you pay attention in school?" 

you laugh, shaking your head at him. it's funnier than it should be. 

"don't you like my eyes?" he asks, suddenly pouting. 

"yeah. they're like a nightlight. 's never dark." 

his eyes are probably your favorite thing in the world, you don't say, 'cause you can't think. his eyes are unimaginable, and so close to you.

satoru swallows, shaking his head. "that's all i am to you?" 

"and a teddy bear. you're comfy." 

satoru hiccups, but holds you closer, smiling against your forehead. "good." 

there's a couple of minutes where the two of you bask in the silence. the quiet is a nice break from it all. and you're both so drunk that the usual fears can't seem to make their way in. 

not the way they usually doing, plaguing your body. fear is just something that is, right now. nothing to be afraid of.

but, even so, you've never felt so safe. or so sleepy.

and this time, it's satoru who whispers, "hey." 

"hey," you say, back. you smile at him. his fingers trace circles on your back. or maybe he's writing something. you can't tell. 

it feels nice, though. 

"i like you," he says. and you're not sure if he means in general, or here, in his bed with him. maybe it's a question. 

it doesn't matter. 

"i like you too. hey?" 

satoru just hums this time. you can tell that he's about to fall asleep, because his eyelashes flutter shut, and his breathing has begun to even out. 

"satoru," you say, again, because you want to see his eyes just one more time before you fall asleep on top of him. 

you have to say something. it could be the alcohol, but it might be just you.

"yeah?" 

"i think i'm in love with you," you say, and you mean it but it's not what you meant to say. but you're half-asleep, about to drool on his chest, so you can't even contemplate the words. 

is it drunk and in love? or drunk on love? 

you can't remember. 

you could probably kiss him right now. he’s close enough, and you’ve always wanted to. but, even this version of you knows that it would be a bad idea. so you don’t. and you don’t think about what you’ve just admitted.

satoru's smile is vicious, as it begins to blur. you can feel his heart beating against your fingertips. "yeah?" he whispers, and you're not sure why he sounds breathless.

you nod against him. 

"me too," he murmurs, and you can't think about what it means. he whispers something else that you don't hear.

because the two of you fall asleep just then, and the words don't really mean anything. 

just, you know, everything. 

*

in the morning, your head pounds. 

one of you left the blinds open last night, so the sun wakes you up, shining through the trees outside. your mouth is dry, and your throat burns, like you swallowed knives. 

and you're still on top of satoru, and you remember exactly how you got there. 

he's groaning when you begin to move, holding you closer. and this isn't all that unusual. 

but when he opens his eyes, there's a daze in them. some secret he's thinking about as he looks at you. 

and you both forget to mention that you remember the night before. and everything that was said. 

you probably shouldn't talk about it with a hangover, anyway. 

*

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