#i just think that they are a sweet pairing

[illyrianbitch]

An Education in Malice — Part Two

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT /sexual content (not reader and az this time tho), swearing, eris having a soft spot for his sister, some low-blow comments and jokes about experienced trauma, mentions of sex, slut shaming if you squint

Word Count: 5.9k

← Part One

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was night by time Eris returned home.

The room was capped in a comfortable silence, only the crackling of the fire next to you and the soft breaths of the two hounds that surrounded you— Laney at your feet, Flint lying on the floor nearby. The couch was soft below you as you lay comfortably on it, fingers absentmindedly tracing the paper edges of the book in your hands. Despite the peace of the room, something not often found in Forest House, your mind sat heavy with racing thoughts. 

Every single one seemed to drift back to Azriel. 

You had already bathed, had already spent time delicately rubbing your skin raw of any scent, of any traces that might connect you back to your earlier decisions. It was a blessing, truly, that Eris had spent the day with his own affairs. You made a note to thank The Mother for the grace given to you— if you had returned home to your brother in the state that you had been, there was no doubt in your mind he would have made a decision even more rash than yours. 

But it didn’t seem to help. You weren’t able to wash it off as well as you’d hoped. There was something that still lingered, something ingrained into you, into your bloodstream itself. You weren't a stranger to questionable decisions— but this, this was perhaps your worst to date. 

Because there was something deep in you that now felt powerful. 

Azriel was driven by duty— by a devotion to his little family that made you angry, a devotion that left him blind and prone to defensiveness. The thought that he would have to return home, to face his family knowing he’d broken some boundary, some sense of trust…. It warmed you in a way that the fire next to you never could.  

A small creek echoed and from below you, Flint perked up, head lifting in alertness, ears perched and engaged. A moment later, Eris emerged, his eyes meeting yours instantly as he offered you a small, tired smile. He took in the scene before him as you closed the book in your lap. 

“Eventful day?”

He let out a small sigh, perching himself on the edge of the couch opposite you. Flint laid on the floor still, watching him closely as his tail thumped lightly against the ground in greeting. "I suppose.”

There was a pause as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. "And the Shadowsinger?" 

You glanced down at the book in your hands, fingers running along the edges of the pages before responding with a casual shrug. "Uneventful,” you replied, “He gave no updates.”

Eris only let out a breath in response, a single eyebrow raised momentarily.

"He’s very…reactive for a Spymaster," you added, a wry smile now playing at the corners of your lips. “You would think they’d be more collected.”

"They’re all reactive," Eris chuckled softly, his mouth turning up in a smile that mirrored your own. His gaze flickered towards the hound at your feet, and you followed his line of sight, reaching down to scratch her head gently.

"Almost more reactive than sweet Laney over here," you teased, earning a soft huff of agreement from her wet nose as she leaned into your touch.

Laney was one of the only female hounds your family owned, a true vision of regal elegance. Eris had trained her specifically for you, a hound just as stubborn and reactive as yourself— and loyal to a fault, as he had told you. 

Eris chuckled once more, a sound more gentle and quiet than his normal tone. When you turned to look at him, you were met with a face lost in contemplation, eyes glazed over as his gaze remained fixed on Laney. You frowned, feeling your brows furrow as you took him in, taking notice of the dark circles below his amber eyes.

“Go rest,” you said quietly, giving him a smile as his gaze snapped to yours. 

Eris gave you a small nod as he rose from his perch on the couch. Flint followed the motion instantly rising up from the floor to stand at his side. Your brother crossed the room to where you sat, taking large strides to the hallway behind you. There was a playful gleam in his eyes as he passed you, his hand reaching out to tousle your hair affectionately. 

"Goodnight, sister," he said softly, hand lingering on your head for a moment before he continued walking.

He made it a few more steps before you called out to him. 

"Eris," you began, turning your body to place your hands on the couch and rest your chin upon them. "I want to come to more meetings."

He turned to face you, brows furrowing in mild confusion. "Why?"

"I want to be informed.”

His eyes scanned your face. "I tell you everything I know.”

You let out a sigh, casting a quick glance toward the cracking fire. Then you looked at your brother with a small frown. “I want to be more than just a recipient of passing messages."

It was true. Although you did all the favors Eris asked of you, which extended to taking his place in meetings, he tended to avoid involving you unless it was necessary. You knew that it came from a place of protection, a sense of comfort knowing that he could perhaps save you from hurt so long as you never came near it. But you felt useless, and you wanted to do more. Collecting intel from your father’s acquaintances and listening for news was the most you’d been able to do. You didn’t want to admit that you’d been offered the taste of a newer freedom today— and you suddenly had a craving you weren’t able to smother. 

The next words that came from your mouth weren’t needed. It was wrong to guilt Eris, to take advantage of the soft spot he held for you and your power. But you did it anyway.

"I am more than just a pretty face,” you told him, “Prove to them that not all of Autumn believes females to be weak."

He hesitated for a moment, lips twitching in thought. 

"Okay," he conceded, "But not too often. We still need to avoid suspicion."

You gave him a smile. "Thank you," you said softly.

Your brother stared at you for a moment, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at the hound that stood next to him. 

"Thank you for taking my place today," He finally said, his tone sincere. "I know that meeting must not have been entertaining, with the brute and all."

A flicker of guilt sparked in your stomach, but you shrugged it away. Quickly, it was replaced with a sense of pride. What Eris didn’t know surely wouldn’t hurt him, and despite how questionable your decisions may have been, they weren’t dangerous— and certainly wouldn’t be repeated again. You gave him a grin. 

"I know how to tame beasts." 

As if on cue, Laney perked up from her position at your feet, her extended neck looking over to where Eris stood behind the couch. He let out a chuckle.

"Indeed you do.” You offered you the small, almost sad, smile once more. “Goodnight.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, you watched as he exited the room, the soft sound of Flint’s paws padding after him. 

You waited until it was quiet again, until the a distant creak of Eris's door closing reached your ears, before you turned yourself around on the couch. You brought a hand to rest on Laney’s head, leaning in closer as you gently rubbed your thumbs on her coat.

"Well that was fun, huh?" you murmured softly, the words directed more to yourself than to the hound in front of you. Laney nustled further into your touch. 

For a moment longer, you lingered in the quiet of the room, the weight of your thoughts mingling with the gentle warmth of the fire. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel was going batshit crazy— this he knew for certain.

He was a sick male. A male now plagued with a disease he worried had no cure. He was on the brink of a certain madness that was driven by you, and you alone. 

A part of him wondered if your sudden involvement had anything to do with your latest encounter with him. But it made no sense— you were at every meeting with Cassian, causing him to come home grumbling about how he was forced to deal with not one, but two pretentious cunts. Yet, it was only ever Eris when Azriel was free to receive updates. 

You had always been some sort of mystery— a fact that used to drive Azriel crazy. He didn’t like unknown factors, didn’t like not knowing his threats properly. You were often shrouded away in the shadows, hidden in the affairs of the Autumn Court. In line with the Vanserra philosophies, as Azriel saw it, you, as a female, truly had no place outside of your court. The times that he did see you were all the same— some snarky comment made from your lips, a sneer at him or anyone from his family, usually Mor.

Yet, you had been there with him three weeks ago. And Azriel hadn’t been able to read you. Not properly anyway, not even when he was inside you, not even as he pushed you to completion.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he enjoyed it.

You were the perfect middle ground. Not exactly an enemy— Azriel would never betray his family so deeply. But you weren’t exactly an ally either, weren’t someone he owed even an ounce of respect to— weren’t a person he needed to keep a face with. And gods did it feel good to think about how he could ruin you— how furious your brothers would be at the idea of him enjoying such intimacies with you. Eris, especially. Azriel couldn’t kill the pretentious fucker, but he could damage him in other ways. Fucking his sister seemed like a good place to start. A wonderful place for him, at least.

Not much scared Azriel. Not much at all. But this, this hunger he felt, the enjoyment he got from experiencing you, it scared him enough to instantly seek out something to distract him. 

But there was an itch he wasn’t able to scratch.

And that itch looked like you, smelled like you, sounded like you–

Azriel blinked hard, trying to shake off the haze of his thoughts. His attention snapped back to the present, finding himself gazing down at the blonde kneeling between his legs. Her blue eyes met his as she sucked on him, tongue swirling around the head of his cock as she worked the base of him with a perfectly manicured hand. 

She removed her mouth from his tip, hand still pumping the length of him as she looked up at him with wide eyes. A seductive smirk danced on her lips as she bit down on them. "I love sucking your cock,” she whispered huskily, “Does it feel good?"

Azriel stared at her for a moment, eyes still slightly glazed over. He bit the inside of his cheek as he hesitated. Then he nodded. 

"Keep going.”

He wrapped his hand in her hair, guiding her movements as he took control, bucking into her mouth with urgency. But every thrust, though pleasurable, felt unsatisfying. 

He tried for a few more minutes, tried to readjust himself on her blue velvet couch, tried to lean his head back and close his eyes as he bobbed her head on his cock— nothing worked. The image of three weeks ago was seared into the back of his eyelids, staring back at him every moment he blinked. He was stressed, frustrated, and had a boiling anger that had only continued to build up recently. Nothing seemed to be working for him, not in his duties, not in his life, not even in his sexual activities. 

He tried to focus on the sensations coursing through his body, on the pleasure the female before him was offering so freely to him. But every noise she made, every movement she made, only served to remind him that he was too on edge to enjoy it. And fuck, Azriel couldn’t even remember her name. With a frustrated growl, he pulled her off with a pop, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. She frowned as Azriel’s hands left their place on her scalp.

When he wouldn’t reach her eyes with his own, she climbed up on him, her voice a seductive purr as she offered herself to him. 

"Use me however you want. Let your frustrations out."

For a moment, Azriel hesitated, his mind torn between desire and something else, something deeper. He could do it— and he could probably enjoy it. So long as she wasn’t facing him, so long as he could pretend it was...you?

With a sudden surge of energy, he pulled himself up, his hands gripping her tightly as he threw her onto the bed. She let out an excited sequel as he moved towards her, positioning her at the edge of the bed for him to slot himself behind her. As he entered her, a low groan escaped his lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his body. 

Her high-pitched whine echoed in the room, mingling with his grunts of exertion as he pounded into her, his grip on her hips firm—  almost bruising. She let out breathy moans in response, her body arching against his as he began to move relentlessly, beginning to buck his hips into her fast and hard.

It was then he felt a cool sensation trailing up his body, disembodied whispers drowning out her words of praise.

She walks along the mortal lands, his shadows whispered, deep in the forest.

The female below him gave another whine. 

Alone, Alone, Alone. 

Quickly, Azriel pulled out of her, leaving her gasping for air and reaching out for him in confusion. But he was already moving, hastily gathering his clothes and rushing towards the door.

Without a word, he threw some money onto the nearby dresser, barely sparing a glance as he made his way out of the door. She turned herself around to stare at the scattered payment on the counter, a frown marring her features. With a frustrated grumble, she fell back onto the bed.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Eris hadn’t told you much.

Beron’s men were thinly spread these days— running in and out of the court, falling into hushed whispers behind your father’s private quarters. Eris’ soldiers told him as much as they could, but with their low numbers, there wasn’t much they could do, not many places they could sneak to without notice. 

Eris was still recovering from the loss, from the men he lost to Azriel and Cassian’s slaughter— to Briallyn and her ability to render them mindless attackers. Your brother wasn’t only mourning his forces, but his friends as well. All of them meant something to him, their loyalty, the bond he had formed to gain their trust. But he would never admit it, not to himself, not even to you. There was no time for mourning in the Autumn Court. 

So you found yourself along the border to the Mortal Lands now, seeking out any sign of where your father’s men may be hiding out. From what you’d gathered so far, they had some areas of rest in the moral lands, areas that were hidden far enough to where they couldn’t be trailed, but close enough to Koschei if it was needed— and that was your fathers entire plan. He was getting desperate, he was getting paranoid— scared of his future, scared of Eris. 

You paused, a prickling sensation crawling up your spine. There was a bristle behind you and you lifted your chin in response, taking a deep breath of the air. Something flickered within you. Without turning around, you spoke into the stillness of the forest.

"Do you always stalk the females you fuck, or am I just special?" 

A voice, hard as stone, responded from behind you. "I'm not stalking you."

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting the shadowed figure emerging from the depths of the trees. Azriel stood before you, his expression flat as usual. His shadows spread out from his form, floating around him like a faint black outline. 

"Then what do you call following a lady into the woods from afar?" 

Azriel’s face remained stoic, save for the slight raise of an eyebrow. 

 "Show me a lady and then maybe I'll tell you," he said, voice dripping with a sardonic wit that set something inside you alight— something deep in your gut.

You let out a sound of surprise before you were laughing at the snark, lips curving into a smirk. Azriel tensed, his jaw tightening as the sound reached his ears.

"Oh, someone's feeling playful," you remarked with a teasing lilt, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Rhysand give you a longer leash?"

Azriel said nothing in response, his gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made you unable to stay still. A moment passed as his eyes continued to bore into yours. And then he spoke, a tone cutting through the air like a finely sharpened blade. “You’ve been avoiding me."

There was a tinge of irritation in his tone that made you want to grin. 

So he’d noticed.

It was unintended at first, truly. Things were difficult in Autumn recently, with all the whispered rumors of your father planning something questionable. You found yourself only able to attend the meetings in which Eris met with Cassian and his, now, prized mate. 

But in the back of your head, a part of you was amused at the idea that Azriel may begin to overthink— that a part of him would get frustrated that you were just out of reach. You weren’t exactly sure why that reaction would be warranted, but you knew it would happen nonetheless. You had an idea, now, how that pretty little mind of his worked. After all, he was a paranoid, anger-prone insomniac. Those types rarely made sane decisions. Seeing him before you now, on edge, irritable, it made it worth the wait. 

You raised an amusement eyebrow.

“Have I?"

The feigned innocence in your tone burned deep with annoyance in Azriel’s gut. He grit his teeth in response. 

"Yes," he replied.

You scoffed lightly. "You have a mighty inflated sense of self. I don't decide my activities based on the likes of you."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but you swore a flicker of something passed through his darkened eyes— a hint of frustration, perhaps. It was delicious. 

"You've begun to join Eris in our meetings.”

Your eyebrow quirked up in response. You said nothing. Azriel continued.

 "And yet, never the ones with me.”

You tilted your head at him, eyes in a narrow-squint as you ran your tongue along your teeth. Azriel’s eyes dropped to your lips, tracing the motion. A grin grew on your face.

"Have you missed me, Shadowsinger?" 

“No,” Azriel responded swiftly, “I’m suspicious of you."

"Yeah?" You crossed your arms across your chest. Once again, Azriel’s eyes fell as he took in the motion. “And whys that?” 

His eyes seemed to narrow at the playfulness in your voice, but he gave no further physical reaction, simply continuing to hold your gaze as he responded. "I don't trust you.”

You rolled your eyes. "Get in line."

"You are bordering the mortal lands," Azriel stated, his voice a low rumble. "If there are updates regarding Koschei, we should be informed."

"Why?" you challenged, a note of defiance now coloring your tone. Azriel’s jaw clenched, light pouring through the trees in a way that made the shadows on his face even harsher. His own moved around him in an uneasy dance. 

"Because we have an agreement." 

"Uh uh," you retorted, shaking your head. "You have an agreement with Eris, not me. I don't owe you shit."

His self-control was wearing thin now. Azriel hadn’t forgotten how much you tested his patience— but the past three weeks had somehow softened the aggravation he felt around you in his own mind. He was being reminded now, in real time, why it was a good idea for him to keep his distance. 

"Careful," he growled. You didn’t miss the slight twitch in his wings, still carefully tucked between his shoulder blades.

You raised an eyebrow.  "Is that a warning or a threat?" 

Azriel's gaze hardened. Without breaking eye contact, he shifted his weight, a predatory grace in his movements as he took a step closer.

"Both." 

"Let me guess,” you said mockingly, “If I'm not an ally, I'm a threat.”

Azriel narrowed his eyes, shadows swirling around him like a storm brewing. “Yes.”

You pursed your lips, taking a step towards him. Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, a small crease forming between his brows as he traced the movement. A heat stirred within you. 

"Do you fuck all your threats?" 

He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking in his temple as his shadows danced with a restrained bite. You paid it no mind as you continued to step closer to him, closing the distance between you.

"That's why you're really here, isn't it?" 

Your voice was a low, sultry taunt. You were inches away from him now, looking up at him through your lashes as you reached a hand out to touch his chest.

He tensed beneath your touch. With a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, you slowly trailed your fingers up his chest. It took Azriel a moment too long before he grabbed your hand.

Your smirk widened, eyes flickering to where his scarred hand wrapped around your wrist. You met his eyes next, a deep, angry, brown that bore into yours. 

"How did it feel?" you said, voice dropping to a low purr, "When you went home and looked your brothers in the face, knowing you'd done yet another thing to disappoint them?"

The remark hit Azriel in his gut, twisting in his stomach with a burning intensity that he wasn’t used to. Whether it was anger, guilt, or annoyance as the vulgarity, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. His grip tightened almost painfully on your hand, eyes narrowing with a dangerous flame as he stared down at you. 

You didn’t flinch, didn’t tear away from his gaze. There was an addicting sense of satisfaction at having struck a nerve with him once more. You took a second to revel in the discomfort you provoked, in the way his muscles tensed at your voice– in the scent change you smelled in the air, now thick with unspoken desire and heady arousal. 

Azriel leaned down, voice dropping to a heated whisper. "I've done a lot worse than you."

He released your hand from his grip. You let it fall to your side.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you said with a knowing grin. "And it eats you up the same, doesn't it?"

Azriel didn’t move, didn’t so much as bat an eye at you. A moment passed. And then another. Something flickered across his face. You could have sworn his eyes were now adorned with an amusing glow, that the corners of his lips tilted upwards. 

"How was it when you returned home covered in me?" he challenged, voice edged with a sweet, sweet, bitterness. “In my scent, filled with my cum?”

Shivers rippled across your skin as a cool sensation cascaded over your body. You glanced down, watching as dark shadows slithered up your form.

You took a deep breath, ignoring their ghostly touch as you raised an unphased eyebrow in response. "No one batted an eye," you replied coolly.

The shadows continued to move in Azriel’s silence, now wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your heart race. You gritted your teeth at the sensation, pushing back the rush of memories that were now flooding into your mind— memories of the last time his shadows had caressed your skin, tracing every curve and dip of your body with intimate knowledge. Your eyes met Azriel’s.

"Guess you didn't leave that much of an impression.”

A low snarl escaped Azriel's lips. "Or perhaps they're used to you carrying a male's scent.”

You mocked him with a smirk, taking a step back to maintain your distance. His shadows fell from their position around your neck swiftly, rushing back to his body as Azriel's jaw clenched.

 "Well now I'm getting mixed signals. Last time I was deprived of a male’s touch, now I'm a whore?"

Azriel said nothing. His teeth seemed to grind against each other with such force that you half-expected them to break under the pressure of his frustration.

"For someone who is so sensitive about his delirious crush being called a slut, you're sure eager to throw such terms around to me." 

Your words dripped with a sense of sarcasm, a sense of mockery, that Azriel could almost feel. His wings flared out slightly in response. 

"I never said that," was his only reply. 

It wasn't an apology. No, Azriel wanted to make sure that whatever words he said were the exact ones he meant. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, a reminder of the last time you’d stirred such a response in him, of when he had called you those very words in the heat of passion— if he could even call it that. And you had responded in kind, your body yielding to his touch with a fervor that belied any notion of innocence.

Before he could stop himself, he felt himself speak once more. "Although you seemed to enjoy it quite thoroughly when I did."

Deep in your chest, there was a flicker of flame, his words igniting a spark of something within you. You bristled at the insinuation, but dutifully ignored the comment— ignored the connotations that came with it. Instead, you hummed in response, shaking your head. 

"That's the thing with you hypocrites. You never just own up to it, do you?”

With a faint smirk still playing on your lips, you took a few steps backwards, eyes trained on him and the shadows coiling around his arms. 

“Always a displeasure to speak with you, Shadowsinger.”

As you turned around and began to walk away, there was a queasy feeling in your stomach, a realization that you'd do something to be in this position again, to find a way to rile him up. The thought of igniting that volatile spark between you, setting off sparks like last time—it was too tempting to resist. 

But as you felt the burning of his gaze into your back, you couldn’t ignore the nagging truth. He wasn't just a fun toy to play with. Azriel was obsessive, that much you could gather from him— from his history with Morrigan, from his methods of interrogation, from his pride as a spymaster. And the way he was before you now, with the intensity that he regarded you with, it would surely prove to be a problem; a hindrance to being able to help Eris to the best of your ability. 

And before your fun— before any amusement you found in Azriel— came one thing. Your loyalty to your brother. 

With a steadying breath, you paused and glanced back at him over your shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing," you called out, "If you follow me again–"

You turned around completely to face him. With a hand wreathed in flame, you lazily pointed to his hands, fisted at his sides. 

"I'll pick up where your brothers left off.”

Azriel's gaze flickered down to your hand,  down to his own, and then back up to meet your eyes. 

You brought the same hand near your lips, blowing a kiss in his direction. Azriel watched as a flame danced in the air, swirling and twirling in the shape of a small heart. 

Then, without another word, you turned and left, disappearing into the forest. 

His gaze followed the flickering flame as it dissipated into the cool breeze. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You found Eris in his room, seated at his desk as he wrote on one of many scattered papers.

Eris’ room was more full of life than one would expect, adorned with a carefully curated selection of artwork that perfectly showed his refined tastes. Various books lined the shelves of his walls. He had always been quite the scholar at heart, with a keen eye for art and literature. It was a side of your brother that few outside the family knew— a facet of his personality that he shared with Lucien. It was one of the things they shared so closely, but they never talked about it, never truly had any chance to bond beyond the trauma of existing in your family. 

The thought of it made your heart hurt. You pushed it away as you moved to sit at the edge of Eris’ bed, watching as he put his papers together before turning to look at you. When he met your eyes, you shook your head. 

 "Nothing,” you said, “But I wasn't able to get far, anyways.”

Eris lifted an eyebrow in response. “What do you mean?”

"That Shadowsinger sure knows how to keep himself busy.”

There was a tick in Eris’ jaw that told you he was more than annoyed— and that he had a few choice words he was fighting to say. But, instead, Eris simply rolled his eyes. 

“Of fucking course,” He said as he leaned back in his chair. He ran a hang along his face. "Are you able to handle him?"

You resisted the urge to snicker, at both your brother’s irritation and the experiences you’ve had with Azriel. Your mind replayed the subtle giveaways that Azriel’s body had given in response to your taunts— and then continued to pour in images of how those taunts had led him to succumbing to a primal desire. 

You met your brother's gaze with a smug shrug. "Yes,” you responded, “Very well, I’d say. He hasn’t killed me yet.”

Your words were a simple joke, but Eris seemed to tense at them nonetheless. You frowned, but the reaction was short-lived as he nodded in thought. His eyes flickered to yours. 

"Good, because I need you to take my place.”

You blinked, your brows furrowing as you leaned forward. 

"What do you mean, ‘your place'?" 

Eris met your gaze casually. "Meeting with them," he clarified, his voice steady and unwavering.

“You want me to go in your place permanently?”

You knew for certain that the look on your face was nothing short of annoyance and disgust. 

"For now," Eris replied evenly. "If they’re suspicious of you, give them a reason not to be."

You paused. Your mind raced with countless disembodied thoughts and images, the realization that you’d be around Azriel once more– and much more often; that you'd have to deal with them all. Deal with them and their blinding arrogance. Eris, for all of his outward appearances, had an ability to be diplomatic— to a certain extent at least, given his bite. But you wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not all the time, not without your brother. Your previous meeting with Eris, Cassian, and Nesta proved your point— one more comment from you, and you were sure the brute or his death-bride would have killed you on the spot.

You tilted your head at Eris. 

"And you’ll follow the leads with your men."

He nodded.

He needed your help. And if you weren’t able to keep Azriel at arms length, the least you could do was keep him occupied enough so his wandering eyes wouldn’t travel to your brother. Now that— that was something you could do. You could ruin him.

With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and lifted your chin.

“Fine,” you said, “I’ll do it.” 

Eris gave a laugh. “How sweet that you thought you had a choice.”

You rolled your eyes as Eris stood up, brushing himself off slightly as he walked towards you. 

"But you do know that I will have to tell them our suspicions eventually.”

You scrunched your face, looking up at him with a distasteful, frustrated frown. 

"Why?" 

He lifted his brows, baring a facial expression that mirrored that of an exasperated parent. 

"Because we have an allian–”

You interrupted him with an annoyed flick of your hand.

"Alliance, yes, I know," you muttered. "Which I still don’t understand."

Eris sighed. "Y/n—"

A pent-up frustration bubbled beneath you, a simmering heat in your stomach that made you feel antsy. You did your best to bite it down, to swallow the annoyance that was suffocating you, but it was no use. You were never good at holding back your outbursts.

"No, actually, doesn’t it bother you?" you asked, your voice rising slightly. "That they think they're so much better than you, than us?"

Eris clenched his jaw, but he remained composed. This was a conversation you’d had many times before, a frustration that you’d voiced and struggled with since you learned what the emotions of hate, of contempt, truly were. 

"I don’t worry myself with what night-dwellers think of me.”

You let out an angry breath. 

"Yet you're put in a position to constantly defend yourself.”

Eris was losing his temper now, his voice growing strained as he fought to keep composure for your sake.  “I don’t enjoy aligning myself with them, but it's what's needed.”

"I would kill Beron tomorrow if you’d let me. We could do it alone."

Eris shook his head firmly. "No," he stated, his tone left no room for argument. "That is a risk I’m not going to take. Not with you, not with our mother."

"They will never see you as anything worthy of respect, Eris.”

“Their respect is not something I need,” he snapped, "When I’m fixing this court, it won’t matter.”

"It matters to me.”

There was a strain in your voice that you didn’t notice until Eris’ eyes softened. And then he was letting out a deep breath, looking at you with the hint of a frown. 

"Don’t let it.”

His voice was softer now. The same voice he’d used to soothe you during thunderstorms, the same voice that coached you through learning how to control your fire. 

"I hate them. I hate that we have to cater to them because they're our only aid right now."

"The feeling is mutual. That’s what makes this work.”

“But we have reasons to hate them," you countered, “Very valid reasons.” 

Eris sighed, a tired resignation in his tone. “They believe they have reasons, too.”

You fell silent, shaking your head in disbelief as you bit the inside of your cheek. That simmering anger still boiled beneath the surface—  the anger of feeling wronged, of being backed into a corner and then being punished for biting. 

Eris watched you closely, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"They do not matter," he reassured you. "They will never matter— not truly. We use them now, and you will never have to be near them again."

You nodded as Eris brought you into his chest, giving you a small hug as he held your head in his hand.  

But a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. Deep within the corners of your mind, deep within your chest, something told you that his words were wrong. Something old— something strong. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: who is ready for some nasty slutty feral enemies with benefits… 😋😋 ME YALL ITS MEEEE

i was worried about writing a part w no smut but these dynamics need to be built up first 😮‍💨 its so funny to me that both her and az are like ya... i have the upperhand here.... i am winning....

enemies who actually don’t like each other >>

enemies who didn’t “always love” each other >>

enemies to forced proximity trope >>

the future of malice! az & malice! reader going from no respect towards each other to playful flirting banter >>

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

malice series tag list: @going-through-shit @sidthedollface2 @justasillylittlegoofyguy @mal-adaptive-dreams @alainabooks143 @mybestfriendmademe @sfhsgrad-blog @marina468 @wonderwomanlovesyou @the-darkestminds @circe143 @starsandsins @acourtofdreamsandshadows @ysmtttty @mendes-bae

azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader angst #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel angst #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x reader smut #acotar smut #malice series

[lqveharrington]

Lucky King? | L.M.

summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader

includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.

Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.

An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.

He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.

“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.

“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“

“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.

Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”

You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”

“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.

“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.

“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”

Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“

“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”

“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.

You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”

“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”

“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”

He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”

“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”

“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”

“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”

Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”

You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.

The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.

“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.

You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”

“Mom—“

You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.

“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”

“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”

You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.

“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“

“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.

He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”

“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“

“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”

You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”

“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.

The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.

Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

#august’s works 🫧 #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar smut #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel self insert #hazbin hotel angst #habzin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel writing #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x helluva boss #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel drabble #jeremy jordan #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel blurb

[thehighladywrites]

— “Do you eat pussy like that?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you’re ovulating, insanely horny and thinking about putting your hands down his pants in the middle of the cafeteria

☀︎ — warnings: smut, nsfw, public display of affection, Azriel is a little stern, like a tiny bit, pussy eating, riding, ovulation

☀︎ — amara’s note: this was so fun to write, i love freaky bimbo reader, she’s so fun. also very realistic bc i too would wanna put my hands in azriel’s pants. and don’t mind the fact that this is complete nonsense. idk wtf is happening💗

series masterlist

You should’ve known azriel was an eater.

Whenever he ate, he did it like he was out of breath, inhaling his food and munching on it. He did this thing where he’d lean over his plate, shuffle food into his mouth, head tilting a little to the left, eyes closed and everything. It reminded you of the way he tilted his head when he kissed you.

He ate with such need and energy that you couldn’t help the dirty thoughts in your little brain. But it’s not even your fault, it’s his. Who the hell eats like he does?

You can't help but giggle whenever you watch Azriel eat, finding it very cute that he devours his food. It’s like, he really loves his meals, you know?

But then you remembered last night when you jumped on him while he was working on his computer. He looked so cute and focused, but his hands... so fucking hot, they looked so good. Like, seriously, how can hands be so attractive? Maybe it was the ring, maybe it was the bracelet or maybe it was because you wanted to gag on them.

You knew you were ovulating, it was no surprise. You basically turn into a succubus, hellbent on getting slutted and fucked. Azriel is there, so naturally you want him to take care of it.

I mean, who else could help you? Getting off yourself is so much work and doesn’t feel nearly as good as when he does it.

“Azzie, i missed you sosososooo much!!” you strolled towards him with a massive smile. Azriel turned around at the sound of your pink, fluffy heels klicking against the cafeteria floor.

He gave you the kindest smile as you approached him, lifting his arm so you have room to lean against him. You had different classes in the morning, so you met him for lunch. you sit next to him, scooting as close as you can. If you could, you’d sit on top of him but you were in the cafeteria so you had to settle for leaning with your face nuzzled against his neck.

There he was, eating like he always did. But today, you couldn’t stop your thoughts. He was eating too good. You wanted to tell him, so you did.

“Hi, my sweet girl. I hope you had a good lecture. What do you want to do after classes?”

You sighed. You were dangerously horny, it was a miracle you didn’t put your hand down his pant, honestly.

“Hmm, I wanna be fingered, i want my pussy ate then i wanna be fucked for hours, pretty please?” you mumbled against his neck, kissing and licking a stripe.

Azriel started coughing, nearly choking on his food.

“And, uh, another thing. D’ya eat pussy like that?” you asked with hope, a french tip pointing to his plate.

“Oh my god, uh — okay, so, baby, you — you can’t just say stuff like that in public, okay?” he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing as he glanced around nervously.

“Why not? I want my boyfriend, there's no shame in it!” you declared, pursing your glossed lips, with your hands folded over your half-exposed tits.

Azriel nervously glanced around as you put a leg over his thigh. “Please help me, i’ll totally die if you don’t.”

“Okay, sure, but why are you so — um, frisky?" Azriel asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. A nervousness that increased as you pressed your tits against him.

“I don’t know what that means.” You replied, tilting your head slightly in confusion, your ditzy demeanor showing through.

“Um, sexually charged,” Azriel tried to explain, his hands moving mid-air in an attempt to convey his meaning.

“I’m ovulating, Azzie. aka i need you inside, like right in this moment — like in this second, now.” your nail tapped quickly against the dining hall’s table, a sign of your impatience. “Please stop talking nonsense, i don’t know about sexually charged, m’just horny.”

“Right, right. I read about that. Okay, let’s go. Do you want my dorm or your apartment?” Azriel questioned as he stood up, lifting you from the bench.

That little move of him lifting you without hesitation or struggle made your jaw drop. Your hands automatically moved towards his belt, and a sweet expression crossed your face as you stared up at him, completely flustered.

“Yours.”

Azriel stopped you before you could bend down and blow him infront of people. He led you by the hand, your thoughts completely cleared, except for one thought.

You were SO gonna get it.

—

He’s so gentle. The way the flat of his tongue drags between your folds is ungodly to stay the least, the lewd squelching of his tongue flicking your glistening, throbbing clit.

“You okay? Holy shit you weren’t lying, you’re incredibly wet,” his fingers come to touch you, almost slipping in with no difficulty.

“mm-yeah, m’so good. J’st keep your mouth riiiight there,” you hummed, dragging his head back as you shifted his head a little to the left. He inserted one finger, then added another before curling them, just like he was taught.

You felt his tongue press against your clit at the same time, your hands gripping his shoulders in order to not writhe away.

“ ‘s really s-sensitive, ‘nd it feels so, so good, az.” He flushes, cheeks reddened at your sweet, whines and moans.

“so sweet.. you’re so sweet, baby.” he doesn’t stop when he speaks. instead, he continues to lap at your cunt, his face evidently beginning to get wet from the mix of your slick and his saliva.

It’s so messy, but he’s loving every second of it even when your juices wet his chin and entire mouth. You’re so close to sliding off his bed with the way you’re writhing away. But it’s like you have to! If he keeps his work up, you’ll cum all over his face in seconds.

“Stop tryna run away, you haven’t even finished yet.” He drags you closer to him by your thighs as he locks his arm around your legs.

“A—azzie! s-slow down, ‘m gon-gonna cum too quick if you keep goin’.”

He doesn’t slow down, and he definitely doesn’t stop. Instead you feel his tongue lap your cunt as he sneakily bring his hand up to your clit rubbing it softly.

When you cum, he just moves you on top of him with no warning. You had been begging to ride, whining about how you’d feel fuller if you were on top. As much as Azriel loves you, your whining was making him wanna check you.

“There. Now will you be good and ride? Hm?” He squeezes your waist as you put your hands on his toned stomach with a smile.

“Mm-hm, I’ll ride.”

Azriel is left damn near paralyzed after. He is sweating, trembling, dying.

You on the other hand couldn’t possibly be more content. He had given you a good dicking :)

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @scoobies @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @berryzxx @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria @hannzoaks @throneofsmut

if ur username is in bold, i couldn’t tag you ;(

#talkswithamara #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x bimbo reader #azriel x fem reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #the sessions series #acotar x bimbo reader #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic

[verstappen-cult]

SWEET LIKE VANILLA, M. VERSTAPPEN.

PAIRING. female reader x max verstappen.

SUMMARY — You send Max some ice cream from your brother’s company.

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. i saw a lot of people talking on tw about charles sending max some of LEC ice cream for him to try and i thought. . . why not write that with reader? so here we are. hope you like this silly little thing. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

“Hey,” You say, scrolling through your phone as your brother flops down next to you. “Could you give me a box of the Vanillove ice cream?”

Charles looks at you for a minute without saying anything, until he shrugs and focuses on the TV. “I thought you hated vanilla.”

“Well, yours is pretty good so,” You shrug, turning to look at him with a pout on your lips and puppy eyes. “Would you do that for your favorite sister?”

“You’re my only sister.” He says, rolling his eyes. “And you’re annoying, but you also know I can’t say no to you.”

“Say no to what?” Arthur pops up from behind the kitchen counter. What is he doing? You don’t know.

“To give me a box of ice cream.”

“You say you couldn’t do that!”

“Of course I can, I just didn’t want to do it for you.” Charles laughs, dodging the water bottle your younger brother throws at him. “Are you two going to the masters this Sunday, right?”

“Yes!” Arthur shouts before disappearing into his room.

“Who is going to the masters again?” Leo wakes up from his nap next to you and climbs on your lap, demanding attention.

“Well, I think Enzo and Charlotte. Lando, Arthur.” He says, checking something on his phone before saying, “And Max.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Max Verstappen.

The thing is, ever since you decided to partner with Joris and help with whatever thing he and Charles needed and, of course, his social media, you’ve been traveling with them since Las Vegas last year. Which means that you’re a constant presence on the paddock these days. And, thanks to that, you’ve become very close with some of the drivers, especially with one more than the others.

You weren’t looking for it, it kind of just happened when you bumped into him at a nightclub in Las Vegas after your own brother ditched you to make out with some random guy in the bathrooms. Max was kind enough to keep you company and then, when your brother stumbled out of the bathroom too drunk to remember his own name, he drove you both back to your hotel. He even made sure you were in your room before saying goodbye and going to his own hotel.

From then on you couldn’t stop bumping into him literally everywhere, so, it was only natural that you’d start making conversation, then following each other on Instagram was just as natural as moving the conversation to text messages (it was easier).

Your friendship has developed so much that you’ve been running together around Monaco lately, after you bumped into him at seven in the morning, surprised to see him running the same path as you.

And if you had a crush on the Red Bull driver before you started to be friendly with each other, well, nobody needs to know that — especially not your brothers or you’ll never hear the end of it. It was hard to act normal around him at first. You were just a girl with a crush, after all. But things have become a lot easier with time to the point of forgetting about the big, fat crush you have on the Dutchman. Well, that is until he does or says something that has you blushing and stuttering and acting like a complete fool in front of him.

Knowing that Max is going to be there this Sunday is equally mortifying, and exciting.

“Oh, okay.” You smile, scratching behind Leo’s ears while your brother has his eyes on you. “I’m coming, by the way.”

Charles hums, “The box is going to be here tomorrow.”

Your belly erupts with butterflies at the thought of what you’re about to do with that box of ice cream.

It’s Sunday, sunny and everyone is wearing their best clothes while waiting for the match to start.

You’re standing next to Lando, who is talking to Charles about the next race, when you see Max Verstappen coming in.

He’s wearing some blue navy linen pants with a white button down of the same material, a pair of dark sunglasses and his singular smirk.

Max is greeted by your older brother, who is quick to engage in conversation about some random thing you can’t hear from where you are standing.

But then he’s excusing himself and walking over to you.

You don’t know if he’s actually looking at you thanks to the sunglasses covering his eyes, but you feel small and shy nonetheless.

“Hey, mate.” Lando claps his shoulder, making space for Max to stand between you and him.

“Hey,” This time you know he’s looking at you because his entire body is turned in your direction.

“Hey, Maxie.” You say, the corners of your mouth curling up. “Nice clothes.” You cringe the second the words leave your lips. Nice clothes, really?

Max just chuckles before looking over to your brother. “Hey, Charlie. Thanks for the ice cream.”

Oh. My. God.

Shit.

Fuck.

You had forgotten about that.

Well, no. You hadn’t forgotten about it because, in fact, you've been thinking about the box of LEC ice cream that you sent Max all week.

You didn’t think he was going to bring it up, because you were sure he was going to think that Charles was nice enough to send his friend some of his ice cream. Or even that it was some PR move from his part.

However, he brings it up in front of you. And Lando. And the owner of the ice cream who doesn’t know anything about it. All he knows is that you wanted some vanilla ice cream because you said you liked it.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, confused. “It’s not being sold in Monaco yet.”

It’s Max’s turn to look confused. “What?” He takes off his sunglasses. And you’re not at all ready to see his deep blue eyes, so you avoid looking up at him. “You sent me a box of… Vanillove is it called? I didn’t know you knew I only liked vanilla.”

You want to die. You want for the earth to swallow you right now.

“Max,” Charles says at the same time you look at him, eyes pleading not to say anything. “What?” He asks you, eyebrows raised in question.

And then you have two more pairs of eyes on you.

You decide, right at that moment, that you’re not going to talk to Charles ever again. Why does everyone talk about that silent connection between siblings where they know what is going on with just a look? Because you, certainly, don’t have it with Charles.

Lando snorts, hands immediately covering his mouth. He looks at you, amusement on his face.

Oh, that is just great. Lando knows.

And your brother still has no clue, “What happens?” He asks again, this time grabbing your arm softly to make you look at him, but your sandals are more interesting.

“The match is about to start.”

Thank God for Lorenzo. You could kiss him just because he came at the right moment to save you from embarrassing yourself even more without even knowing.

Everybody talks and moves at the same time, making their ways over the seats.

“Hey,” Max touches your shoulder, making you turn around. “Are you okay?” Max touches your forehead with the back of his hand and you pray to all the gods above that he doesn’t notice you shivering because of it.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just the sun. It is a little hot.” You smile, dismissing the topic with a wave of your hand.

“I’ll get you some water,” He drops his hand and you immediately miss his warmth. “save me a seat?”

You feel your heart hammering in your ears as you nod, walking away with his question and the little smile that came with it replaying in your head.

You find your seats behind Arthur and his girlfriend, in the rows next to yours separated by the stairs is Charles and Lando, yapping like their lives depend on it, next to them is Lorenzo and Charlotte.

You’re thinking about what to say to Charles because he is, eventually, going to ask you about what is going on and you know he will not rest until you give him an answer. You are a shitty liar, so you need to practice.

Max calls your name, drawing your attention back to the present.

“You have your head in the clouds today.” He hands you a water bottle and you take a long sip, trying to gain some control over yourself.

“I’m sorry.”

“Will you tell me what is going on?” Max looks intently at you, a small smile still on his lips.

You sigh. Well, he needs to know, right? You owe him that.

But then, Max is leaning closer and pushing a strand of hair out of your face, resting his hand in the back of your neck and stroking ever so softly.

“You smell,” He says, closing his eyes for a second and inhaling. “sweet like vanilla.”

His words send a thrill down your spine, words stuck in your throat. Max expression softens, mixed with something you can’t describe.

He rubs his thumb gently over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You sent the ice cream, didn’t you?”

You take a sharp intake of breath.

The closeness and the warmth emanating from his body along with his touch are making your brain go fuzzy at the edges.

“Y/N?” He smiles at you when you make eye contact, his blue eyes deep as the ocean. “It was you?”

You nod, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Yes.” You breathe, embarrassed and shy and feeling like an idiot.

“I knew it.” He says, chucking. You tilt your head to the side in a silent question. “I told you about my favorite ice cream flavor just a few weeks ago. And suddenly I have a box full of vanilla ice cream from LEC?” Max pulls his hand away, but is still close to you. “I mean, Charles and I are friends but we’re not that close.”

“Oh, God.” You hide your face behind your hands. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You look at him from between your fingers. “I don’t know.”

Max sighs, lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Now you have to come to my apartment and help me with them. It’s a lot for one person.” He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but you see the blush quickly spreading over his cheeks.

“I would love to.”

Max flops his head on your shoulder and gazes up at you with those big blue eyes of his. “It is a date.”

Max definitely doesn’t need to know that you hate vanilla ice cream.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you

[konigsblog]

i think konig have panties kink

for sure, he does.👙

könig is the type to get off using your panties. he's obsessed with the softness of the fabric against his veiny shaft, the lace or the cotton material, his eyes watering and his face scrunched up, with his hung cock throbbing with pleasure. his musky balls are heavy and full, tight with his thick and milky cum, that begins to ooze out pearly beads from his slick tip. könig's sturdy and strong chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyebrows furrowed together, gazing through the lenses of his glasses while he strokes himself sloppily.

each drag and stroke is gentle, his calloused and thick fingers gripping his veiny and lengthy cock tightly. he fantasises about being caught by his crush, being shamed and humiliated by you for being so disgustingly perverted, for using your panties for his own pleasure and dirtying them with his touch. he chants your name breathlessly through pained and straight grunts, his thick and sensitive tip beginning to weep when he rolls his calloused thumb over the head of his slick, swollen length.

könig will huff at your panties whenever he can, the sweet scent of your arousal stained into the fabric, causing his dick to harden and throb inside of the tight confines of his boxers. don't put pervert!könig in charge of taking care of the washing and laundry, he'll spend the majority of his day jerking off over your panties, getting them filthy with his hot, creamy, and sticky cum.

looks like you don't have a clean pair of panties, mäusi. you'll just have to go without a pair, right?

#orla speaks #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig mwii #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig mwii

[wonysugar]

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable. 

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however, 

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect. 

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face. 

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again. 

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing. 

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her. 

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip. 

plus, her panties were wet. 

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down. 

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger. 

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her. 

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation. 

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment. 

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair. 

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?” 

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?” 

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs. 

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“wanna bake brownies in a bit?” 

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

#smut #kpop gg #hanni pham newjeans #hanni newjeans #newjeans smut #hanni pham #hanni pham x female reader #hanni x reader #hanni x fem reader #hanni pham x fem reader #hanni smut #newjeans hanni #female reader #kpop gg smut #kpop girlgroups

[its-rach-writes]

No Goodbyes - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When you manage to escape from an unsub, the BAU come to visit you in hospital. Set in season three.

Warnings: mentions of abduction, fluff, little bit of angst, swearing, Spencer being adorable.

A/N: Damn, do I love writing for Spencer Reid! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! Also I forgot to mention that requests are open! I love you all xxx

The darkness crowded around you as the ropes dug into your wrists, you were too weak to try and escape, you were too wounded to survive out in the wild anyway. You weren’t sure how long you had been here for but you were going to die here. The realisation that you were going to die made you gather your last remaining strength, you had a family who loved you, you were going to see them again.

The ropes were easier to escape from than you realised, maybe you had frayed them in the earlier days of your abduction when you were fighting tooth and nail to escape. You felt around in the dark for the door and you gave it a tentative pull when you found it. Whoever had abducted you had left it unlocked, they must have been confident you wouldn’t escape from the ropes.

As soon as you were outside in the fresh air, you ran like the wind. It was pitch black outside but you ran the opposite direction of where you had been kept. It sounded like you were getting close to a road but you couldn’t think too much more on it as your legs gave out and darkness overtook you once more.

You winced as you sat up in the hospital bed, turning your attention away from the TV and looked into the hallway. New people had arrived and they were talking to the cops, you knew what they were talking about, but you wouldn’t budge. A pretty blonde woman caught your eye and she gave you a sweet smile. Your lips twitched but made no further movement as you turned back to the TV.

“Hi,” you heard a soft voice and you turned back to the doorway to see a tall lanky man standing in the doorway, “I’m Spencer,” you knew he was with the cops but his voice was soft and his lips were curved into a kind smile. He didn’t cringe and look away from you when he saw the bloodied bandages.

“Y/N,” you winced and tried to reach your glass of water on the side.

“Let me,” he sat in the chair at your side and lifted the glass.

Your cheeks flushed as you sipped the water from the straw, “thanks, I’m not an invalid, just want you to know that,” you laughed.

He smiled, “oh, I know. I in fact, think you’re really brave.”

You scoffed, “I know what you’re doing by the way. You want me to tell you about my abduction.”

Spencer shook his head, “I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want to do, Y/N. But, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen a friendly face.”

You sighed and glanced over to the doorway where the cops were listening. Spencer abruptly stood from his seat and closed the door in their faces, which made you laugh.

“They think I’m a stone cold bitch,” the handsome man tilted his head and looked at you questioningly, “women are getting killed and I can’t even talk about what happened.”

“It’s understandable.”

You nodded at him gratefully, unsure how such a sweet man became involved with law enforcement. The silence was interrupted by the loud rumbling of your stomach. You flushed as Spencer burst into laughter.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

You groaned, “so hungry but this hospital food is shit,” you laughed.

“Do you fancy a burger?” when you nodded he went to speak to the blonde woman who had smiled at you before.

Spencer looked at you with horror as you deconstructed the burger so you could take the pickles off. You glanced up at him when you felt him looking, you smirked as you licked the ketchup from your fingers.

“What?”

“Pickles are the best part and you’re just throwing them away like they’re nothing!” he gasped.

You laughed, “do you want my pickles?”

“Yes,” he replied within a split second and you passed the slimy veggie over to him, wincing when he crunched it between his teeth.

“Ew.”

There came a knock on the door as Spencer laughed, it was the blonde woman, she smiled at you before glancing over at Spencer, “Spence, we’ve got a lead on the case.”

You’d forgotten, you’d forgotten what he did for a job, only just remembering that he was trying to gather intel.

“I um think I’m gonna stay, actually,” he said which surprised you and he glanced over at you, “that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

“Okay,” the woman said, “call us if you need to,” and then she was gone.

“Your team will be one person down.”

Spencer shrugged, “they’ll be fine.”

The only thing that you and Spencer did for the next couple of hours was watch rubbish on TV, every time there was news coverage on the case, Spencer turned it over to another channel. You fiddled with the sheets of the hospital bed as you glanced over at Spencer’s profile.

“I’ve remembered something.”

Spencer glanced over at you, biting his lip, “Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you interrupted him with a sigh, “I don’t know how much help it’s gonna be but I remember the smell of strawberries but only after it rained. And there was this other smell, kind of like vanilla but like flowers at the same time.”

Spencer smiled at you, “this helps,” he quickly called his partner, instructing them to look for farms were strawberries and honeysuckle grew. You didn’t understand most of his words, he said things like ‘unsub’ and ‘comfort zone.”

The hospital kept you in for ‘observation’ which you bought at first but then you overheard the cops talking about your escape. You heard them saying if the abductor had got wind of where you were it was likely he would come and finish you off. Everything made you jumpy after that. Spencer came to see you when he could, bringing takeout and you slowly opened up to him about what happened to you.

It had been about a week when you saw the news broadcast, the man who had abducted you had been caught. He looked so ordinary that it scared you. When the door to your room opened, you glanced over with a smile that dropped a second later.

“I’m Derek, Spencer’s friend,” the stranger told you, showing you his badge and he glanced at the TV, “came here to tell you we caught him but I can see you already know,” he chuckled then sighed at the expression on your face, “he wanted to be here to say goodbye but he had to make sure the man who hurt you was away. For good. For you.”

There was a pain in your chest and you wanted to cry and scream at yourself for being so stupid, “so, I guess you guys are leaving?”

“We are.”

You sighed, scrawling something on a piece of paper and handed it to Derek, “will you give this to Spencer?”

He smiled, he had kind eyes, “you got it.”

You thanked him as he left but you were left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Spencer hadn’t come to say goodbye.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #reader insert

[imrllytootiredforthis]

The ‘bad’ kind of desire

pairing: soobin x reader (but not really)

synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.

warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it

a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭

“Am I bad person?”

Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.

"What?"

And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head. 

It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.

Soobin.

Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.

Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with. 

Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"

You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression. 

He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."

“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.

Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.

Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge? 

“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”

You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.

He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.

You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type. 

But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.

“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“

“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.

Really, why were you so concerned now? 

Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different. 

Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.

Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile. 

Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.

He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.

In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.

“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“

Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.

You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.

Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."

"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.

He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."

—-

You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.

Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.

He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.

He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.

But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.

You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.

And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.

You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.

But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.

It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.

Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.

And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.

Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.

Soobin was different though, special.

You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.

He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.

—-

"Fuck," he panted, "please,"

The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.

"Please,"

Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.

"Please."

"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.

Close enough.

"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"

He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.

"I need it~"

The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"

Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.

Not with you in the next room.

He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.

Because he would only focus on you.

You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.

But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.

He wanted to hear you.

Not some substitute for the real thing.

He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.

Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.

You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.

You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.

"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"

Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.

Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.

Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."

Fuck, so that was what it was.

His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.

You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.

God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.

Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.

But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.

In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.

You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.

He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.

You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.

God, that’s what he needed right now.

Needed you.

Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.

Not you fucking someone else in a different room.

Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.

"More."

He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly 

"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"

He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.

He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.

“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.

"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.

"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"

He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.

More.

"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.

He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.

"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.

"Your's." He moans in reply.

And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.

Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.

But it doesn't matter.

Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.

Up,

"Slut." You whisper.

and down,

"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.

over,

"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.

and over,

"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.

harder,

"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.

faster,

"Mine." Across his cheek.

deeper.

Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-

"-Cum for me baby,"

And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.

Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.

"Fuck,"

And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"

a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #sub txt #txt x reader #txt smut #sub!txt #sub kpop #sub idol #sub!soobin #sub soobin #afab reader #dom reader #dom!reader

[ham1lton]

the talk.

pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.

format: mixed media smau.

summary: when o/s asked you to apologise to lando she did not expect for you to start dating him? you decide to break the news over lunch at her favourite restaurant. we’ll see how that goes…

author's note: your favourite sisters on the grid are back! the baddest bitches. also you all voted on giving o/s a bf so keep an eye out for that. if you’re confused on the addition of o/s’s bff - read party in the u.s.a. for more clarification!

— part of the nepo sister universe —

liked by oldersister, oldersisterbff and 367,691 others.

yourusername: beachtime!! also someone needs to teach those girls in the second slide some manners…. nasty 😒

oldersister: you’re just jealous.

-> oldersisterbff: she doesn’t understand us pookie bear….

-> yourusername: sometimes it shocks me that you’re both older than me and also considered as the best in your respective fields….

user7: the beach designs are so cute!!

user1: what i would give to have o/s gently put her leg over my arm…

-> user2: what i would give to gently put my leg over o/s/bff’s arm…

user8: you think you’re so slick with the soft launch…

-> oldersister: omg i almost didn’t see it…

-> yourusername: THANKS A LOT user8 😒

-> user8: my bad bae 😩‼️

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

DINNER TRANSCRIPT BETWEEN OLDER SISTER L/N AND Y/N L/N

-> as detailed and described to her boyfriend LANDO NORRIS.

Y/N (monologue): so to start, i obviously allowed her to take us to a restaurant that she liked to get her in a good mood. i even get there early. i’m all ready, let be rephrase, i was all ready and early, when my sister walked in. she already was mad so i got a start on ordering my food so she’d have to pay the bill.

LANDO: you and your free dinners.

Y/N: keep talking and you’ll fund my ubereats for the next month. this is a monologue lando.

LANDO: got it babe. mouth zipped. no more words.

Y/N: okay so she sits down and gives me a glare. i’m like ‘oh my beautiful amazing sister who funds my eating habits. i wonder how i have annoyed you on this glorious day’.

Y/N as O/S: stop talking shit and tell me who you’re dating.

Y/N: oh no! my sweet glorious sister! i can’t tell you that! you might cut me off your credit card!

Y/N as O/S: i would never do that. i am a fair and sweet sister. i love you y/n and i will give you a lot of money to prove this.

Y/N: oh thank you! love you. then that’s the part where we hugged it out.

LANDO: has anyone ever told you that you should go into acting babe?

Y/N: yes! you think i have a future in it?

LANDO: yes! now tell me what really happened.

Y/N: i said i was dating you. she spat out her drink and started choking on something. we had to call the ambulance and take her to the hospital. she woke up and thought it was a nightmare. then i told her, she vomited and she fainted. to be honest…. i was expecting it to worse. that’s pretty tame. i think she likes you!

————————————————————————

liked by rollingstone, user67 and 1,283,892 others.

oldersister: thank you to rolling stone for photographing me as a part of their front cover. being interviewed in my own home seemed daunting but it was so seamless and fun.

we talked about betrayal, fashion and navigating being a barrier breaker. go read the full article on rolling stone’s website or in the physical march copy!

oldersisterbff: my best friend is so hot and sexy i love you 😍

-> oldersisterbff: hot, sexy and smart? what can’t you do bae?

-> oldersister: lots of things. like ending climate change.

-> oldersisterbff: i think you could 🤷🏼‍♀️

user17: yourusername hasn’t liked this… um…

-> user72: she doesn’t have to like every one of o/s’s post. you forget she actually sees her sister in person.

user455: i love listening to her thoughts. she’s so intelligent i love it.

-> user12: she has two degrees! one she got and an honorary one!

-> user23: unlike lando. does he even have his gcses?

-> user89: stop comparing the two lol. both of them have complained about how annoying it is.

-> user23: comparison is a part of the job. get over it.

user61: she’s so hot. need her sooo bad actually.

rollingstone: we loved having you o/s as our cover girl!

-> oldersister: i loved being your cover girl!

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

liked by oldersisterbff, yourbff and 308,727 others.

yourusername: my bitch pose is NAYYYSSTY…don’t ever play with the cat…. that ELBOWWW…

landonorris: when you said you were hard launching me… this isn’t what i was expecting tbh.

-> yourusername: u look cute mwah 😘

-> landonorris: i’ll take anything you give me stink 🤤🤤

oldersister: just vomited actually…. trigger warning next time please.

-> oldersisterbff: i’m omw babe.

-> oldersister: hurry i can feel the light fading from my eyes…

-> yourusername: BOOOOOO!!! you are not florence pugh.

user56: is this the betrayal o/s was talking about in the rolling stone interview??? she’s so dramatic lmaoooo.

oldersister: this is your man?

-> yourusername: yesss 😍😍😍

-> landonorris: hey sister in law 😁

-> oldersister: blocked for harassment.

-> landonorris: NOOOOOOO 😭

user73: how she a nepo baby twice. got f1 connections through her sister and her boyfriend?

-> user89: not how nepotism works tbh….

user67: he looks so goofy lmaooo.

-> yourusername: good keep thinking that. more for me.

-> user67: girl i want you not him 😭

-> landonorris: nuh uh 🙄👎🏼 you can’t have her user67.

————————————————————————

taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @charlesleclercsonlywife @molten-m122 @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @d3kstar (wanna be removed? send an ask!)

— wanna be tagged in any future works? join my taglist! —

#jayde’s works ☆ #nepo sister universe #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 texts #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #lando norris #ln4 x y/n #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 smau #formula one smau #formula one imagine #f1 x you #f1 fic

[cometkenji]

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?” 

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?” 

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

– 

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

– 

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 

“I can watch him.” 

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

– 

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch #x reader #x chubby reader #a fat reader #x plus size reader #aaron hotcher x chubby reader #aaron hotch x fat reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x you #fluff #fluff fanfic #comet: AH

[mingtinys]

" i am so proud of you "

pairing : hansol chwe x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : got a little carried away with this one , something about writing for vernon is just so fun

"I was thinking, why don't we go out tomorrow to that restaurant you really like? To celebrate and all."

"I'd really like that." You call back, glancing over at your boyfriend who is still busy washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Though he isn't looking directly at you, you can just make out the excited look in his eyes and the toothy grin gracing his lips. He's been like that since you told him about your promotion at work. Honestly, you didn't expect him to make such a fuss over it. It was a relatively small promotion, just a raise and a slightly higher title. But that sunny expression on his face could make someone think you'd hit CEO status.

"I'll make reservations after I finish up here." His words are barely audible over the running water. You're about to thank him when your phone buzzes to life beside you.

Incoming call from Boo Seungkwan.

Seungkwan? You think, narrowing your eyes at the screen. Why on earth could he be calling you and not Hansol?

"Hello?"

"Y/N!" His excited voice comes through the speaker. "You're not busy right?"

"Not really, no. Why, what's up?"

"I— well we all wanted to call and congratulate you on your promotion!" A chorus of voices flood your phone and you take it you're on speaker with the rest of the members.

"That's very sweet of you all, thank you." It's nice, having so many people in your corner cheering you on. "But how'd you know? I only just found out about it a couple hours ago."

"You're joking right?" It sounds like Chan. "Hansol won't shut up about it in the group chat."

"He talks about me?" You ask no one in particular

"Yeah, like an annoying amount." That's definitely Mingyu.

There's a short altercation on the other side of the call, probably Seungkwan trying to wrestle his phone back from various members. But you don't pay much mind, the warm feeling in your chest taking over all other senses. You let your gaze drift back to Hansol, who is now on his laptop, nodding along to whatever song is currently playing in his head.

"Just, give it here—! Sorry about that," Seungkwan's voice jolts you from a daze. "Anyways, we just wanted to give you our compliments. We'll let you get back to your night."

Good, because tears are already welling up at your lashes and you're not sure how much longer you can hold back the stitch in your throat. "I appreciate it, tell everyone I said thank you."

You hang up before Seungkwan can respond and promptly make your way to the kitchen. Hansol's nose is still buried in his laptop, eyes squinted as his fingers peck at the keys. "Okay," He says upon the realization of your presence. He hits the enter key rather dramatically. "Reservations are made and you're . . ." His words teeter off when he looks up, met with your tear-filled gaze.

He takes a beat. Brows furrowed and head cocked to the side. "–You're crying. Shit, wait— why are you crying?" Hansol panics. He rushes to you, taking your face between his warm hands. Holding you the way one would hold fine China. Carefully, his thumb comes to swipe a stray tear from your cheek.

"You tell your members about me?" You sniffle. Hansol's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes like a fish before he conjures up an answer. "Was I not supposed to?"

The pure concerned cluelessness in his voice makes you giggle and he seems to relax when he realizes he's not in trouble. "I just didn't know you bragged about me like that, it's sweet."

"I am so proud of you,"  Hansol speaks with unashamed sincerity. "Why wouldn't I brag about your accomplishments?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

#vernon #hansol #hansol chwe #vernon chwe #hansol vernon chwe #veron x reader #hansol x reader #hansol chwe x reader #vernon chwe x reader #hansol vernon chwe x reader #hansol x you #vernon x you #hansol chwe x you #vernon chwe x you #vernon fanfic #vernon imagines #vernon imagine #hansol chwe fanfic #vernon chwe fanfic #seventeen imagine #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #ateez imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen fluff #hansol chwe fluff #vernon fluff #vernon chwe fluff

[pandoraslxna]

Sweet like Cherry — Chapter 5

Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader

Words: 6.3k

Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Warnings: explicit smut, age gap, size difference, alcohol consumption, somehow all men are assholes in this chapter, taking advantage of a drunk reader, cat calling, spanking, rough oral (f receiving), jealousy, possessive behavior, minimal dub-con warning, gambling, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, virgin reader, obsession, authority kink, power play, corruption kink

There's a good reason as to why you don’t talk about personal things with your coworkers.

The problem with most coworkers is, they either don’t know or don’t care about someone’s boundaries. They'll just do something like this because they think it’s a nice gesture, and you don’t understand the point when in reality, they just need another reason to get wasted on another saturday night.

Out of place didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt right now.

You knew parties could be fun and a good time for everyone. Not that you’ve been to many before. You just don’t want to be in the middle of this, can't stand the fact that all these people are clustered around, laughing and talking and celebrating you. It feels like a game of play pretend. You don’t even know half of these people that claim to be your friends. They’re not even coworkers, you think. A dozen of them you’ve never even seen before and you’re sure they don’t even work on the same floor as you.

Maggie is going to pay for this later, because she's the only one who could possibly have told them that it's your birthday, and you specifically told her you weren’t going to let her do anything for your birthday. But you should’ve known, the second she asked to do your make up, then stuffed you into this sinfully tight and entirely too short dress of hers because she convinced you it would be fun, and then coincidentally found a pair of heels to match the look.

You couldn’t actually be that stupid, could you? Obviously she had something planned for you, when she asked to spend the evening of your birthday with you for a coffee. Now that coffee turned out to be whatever liquor was filled into that plastic cup in your hand that was then downed with a loud, cheerful whoo of every women in the room because they convinced you that’s how it’s done at a party.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself even a litte?" Laura asks, looking a little like a puppy hoping for a treat as she watches you chew on the inside of your cheek, standing stiff like a rod in the far corner of the room. You’re almost a little disappointed in her, after you found out she helped planning all this. But you can’t be mad at her when she only means good. Apparently that’s what good cowork— friends. That’s what good friends are supposed to do for each other.

And even though you want to say no, you can't bring yourself to throw their kindness back in their faces. After all, they were the only ones that gave you a chance to prove that you could be more than just that nerd. That nerd that doesn’t even bother to make friends or go to parties, that nerd that doesn't even get invited to said parties because you’re no fun anyways.

You may have earned yourself that name, but it still stings to think too much about it. And maybe you don’t want to be that nerd forever. Maybe you want to let yourself enjoy this.

"Yes, I'm enjoying myself," you finally say, swallowing down a sigh.

"Then smile, and go dance with us!" Maggie nudges your side and you cringe at the thought of dancing in the center of the crowded room.

"Why?" You force out a laugh, even though the question is genuine.

"Is this going to be some kind of philosophy discussion?" The brunette rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but admire her talent in applying false eyelashes that long without poking her eyeballs out. "I wanna dance, that's why!"

"I don't dance."

"Everybody dances! You just move, and you're dancing. How easy is that?"

"No I mean, I don't dance. I spazz. It's painful to watch. Me, spazzing all over the floor…" Your voice has grown quieter with every word, until you’re nearly hiding yourself by taking another gulp of that bright yellow liquor in your cup.

It's sweet and fizzy and tastes like sunlight might if you could drink it, so you empty another cup.

Flashing lights give you a taste of what epilepsy might be like and you feel the music pounding through the air and floor caress your every nerve. You feel fuzzy.

But it seems to be a good fuzzy. Warm happiness flows through your body like thick honey. Okay, maybe that happiness was just this overly sweet tasting booze, but you still felt distant in a nice way, and your head seemed to be floating, only attached to your neck by a string. The feel of Maggie’s sweating hand wrapped around your wrist distracted you beyond words, until you realized she was trying to drag you somewhere.

"Well then, let’s find yourself some company so you don’t get bored while you don’t dance all night", she giggles.

The two of you wended your way across to the other side of the room despite every protest that came from you; dodging tables, drunks, dancers, and others with ease, until Maggie seemed to reach her destination with a proud smile on her face. A group of men, most of them as unfamiliar as the better half of people here.

One of them you knew, though. It was Phil from floor 3. G., that computer engineer that had earned himself the title of Maggie’s friend, but with certain… benefits. However by the way these two were looking at each other through that heavy drunken lust in their eyes, one could assume they were actually more than just that.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nervously nipped at your drink once again as Maggie introduced you to the group. A bunch of people that came to celebrate you, yet none of them even knew your name, you came to realize. Great. And if you weren’t slowly starting to feel very funny inside, that would’ve been just another reason for you to leave this party immediately, slip into your favorite pjs and call it a night.

"So, twenty-six, huh?" One of the men smiles and lifts his drink in a toast, gently tipping the cup against yours which snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you’re met with long, silky curls that framed a slightly tanned and politely smiling face. Your eyes skimmed over his frame for a split second. His body was...compact, lean, firm, though not overly muscular. Just an average looking guy.

"Yep", you clear your throat and send the man an awkward smile that he answers with a chuckle.

"I‘m Ben", he says and for a second, you hesitate to take his hand that he holds out for you to shake. "Nice to meet you."

The impact of that barest of touches, a mere whisper of skin-against-skin as you shake his hand and he squeezes yours, was enough to send blood rushing to your cheeks. His hands are soft, too soft, you think. Ironically, that makes you think about the dozen times a day lately when you had caught yourself thinking about Quaritch‘s hands. His are rough, big and warm, littered in tiny scars that you could feel when he caressed your skin or when he held you in a bruising grip.

The ones that had you concentrate very hard, to not beg him to touch you, on running those fingers across your body. His hands weren’t soft like Bens, who probably worked behind a desk and spent most of his times indoors, preferably in an office of some sorts.

Ben was also polite, you realized right away. He held small talk like it was second nature to him, even though you couldn’t help the awkwardness in the beginning. But his voice is smooth like honey and his jokes actually manage to make you laugh. Genuinely.

But by the time you had emptied your next cup, you couldn’t even seem to focus on the conversation anymore. Everything had turned into a blur of movements around you, and you were grateful for Bens guiding hand as he placed a glass of water into one of yours and took the empty red cup from the other.

"Here, drink this", he said with a chuckle, "Can’t have the birthday girl pass out this early on her special day, right?"

For a moment that seemed endless to you but for anyone near sober it must’ve been nothing more than a few seconds, your eyes lingered on him. Ben was cute, you thought. Not that kind of puppy cute that could make you go aww and ruffle through his hair, but that kind that made you blush and feel hot all over. He was handsome too. For an average guy. But then again, you’re just an average woman, are you not? And kindness, real kindness, was something you suddenly felt very starved for, especially now that it was served to you on a silver platter.

Suddenly it felt as if that hunger was beginning to burn out of control. As if he could sense your feelings, Ben moved just a little closer, the heat from his body searing your skin as he placed a hand to your upper arm and tilted his head.

"Y-Yes, no, i mean–", you stutter, quickly adverting your gaze from him to the glass of water in your hand. "You’re right. Sorry, i didn’t mean to zoom out like that, it’s just been… it’s just been a week for me and normally I don’t drink. Not that much, at least."

His hand moves in a soothing motion, up and down on your arm as he listens attentively. Ben tells you that you have nothing to apologize for. He asks about your work, your studies. He nods along and smiles to everything you say and it makes you feel appreciated, on a level you can’t remember ever feeling before.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that you’re rambling about your work life. And it takes you even longer to realize that through it all, Bens hand hasn’t moved away. That all it did was move up, up, up until he reaches to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek just as you explain to him how the the Pamtseowll can be used as a musical instruments due to the sound produced when the wind moves across the leaves of the plant. Looking back you realized, that must’ve been pretty boring for him to listen to, especially since Ben decided to cut you off mid sentence as he pressed his booze tasting lips against yours.

You’re taken aback from the sudden invasion of your personal space, especially when Ben wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you flush against him. But the alcohol in your system makes up for that pretty quickly, heat rushing up to your face and simultaneously between your thighs makes you feel tingly all over.

His tongue pushes past your lips and you gasp into the kiss, the cup in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp as you lean into it.

The allure of cruising for a quick fuck, or possibly hustling for one; no commitment, no strings makes itself known when a soft sigh, almost a whimper, escapes you. It could be so easy, you think. You could do it tonight and get it over with.

You had to do something about this, this feeling whatever it was, get it out of you.

And his lips already fit so perfect against yours, but that’s really the problem, isn’t it? They’re not too big or too small. His hands can’t close entirely around your upper arm. His chest is basically flush with yours. God, you’re almost eye level with him. He’s so normal, so average. It doesn’t feel special with him. There’s no spark behind his kiss, it doesn’t consume you, it doesn’t take your breath away. He doesn’t make you feel special.

No. This wasn't a good idea.

It was no use, picking a man that wasn't even going to be able to fill in for the one you actually wanted. The one who’s hands you wished were touching you now, instead of Bens. The one who’s lips you wanted on yours, so desperately, you couldn’t even stop imagining it were his instead.

Fuck it, you thought. If he could seek you out to find some temporary relief, so could you. And you needed one, needed him, before you did something you would surely regret in the morning.

Bens face was so close, you had to blink a few times to bring it into focus before you gave him a subtle little push and his lips finally detached from yours.

It must’ve been the sudden change of your facial expression, but he suddenly found the need to apologize for kissing you so sudden, so unsolicited.

"No, no, it’s not that. I just need some fresh air, I feel a little nauseous", you admitted sheepishly, which was both, the truth and a lie. You tried not to pay too much attention to the guilty look in Bens face as you excused yourself and quickly found a way to the exit without anyone taking notice of you, basically ditching your own party.

By now, you could make the walk through the dimly lit hallways to Quaritchs room in your sleep. Or, in this case, drunk and on uncoordinated feet.

Anticipation fills your hazed mind and with an enthusiastic thud, your knuckles connect with the metal frame, producing a muffled echo as you knock on his door.

Heart pounding rapidly in your chest, you eagerly wait for him to open, but the silence that follows is deafening. The realization slowly dawns on you that the Colonel isn't home and a mix of disappointment and frustration crosses your face. But you won’t give up that easily. If he’s not here, there’s only one place he could be at this time of the night.

Two floors up and down the corridor on the left, you could already see light beaming under the comically large door, loud voices and laughter echoing through the hallways that could already be heard as you had exited the elevator earlier.

Peaking into the common room that belonged to team Deja blue, you were greeted by a vibrant atmosphere where you knew the military men gathered to unwind after work. The space was adorned with patriotic decor, displaying flags, emblems, and photographs that reflect their shared commitment as well as their love for barely dressed na’vi pin up girls sitting on tanks and posing with guns. How ironic.

The air carries the smell of smoke and beer, and the musky scent of the day's work and you can’t help but shudder. Your inner warning sirens were working overtime as you stepped foot into the room, fear making your knees go weak, yet every sense of logic and common sense was overtuned by the alcohol buzzing through you. The room exuded a sense of unity, one you clearly didn’t belong to, making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Uniformed recombinant soldiers were relaxing on comfortable couches, their boots resting on coffee tables, engage in heated games of pool or cards -everything maximized to their ridiculous size.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the first pair of eyes to land on your much smaller frame, before nudging the recom next to them with their elbow, pointing at you with their chin.

You try to ignore their boring gazes, the sound of low whistles and snickering picking up the more of them realized your presence. Pulling your sinfully short dress a little down lower, a feeling of regret fills your cheeks in a dark blush. But before you can change your mind and turn around to exit, a large palm settles on your lower back, keeping you from walking backwards out of the room.

"Hey doll face, where ya‘ going?"

Craning your neck up, you’re met with a grin that belonged to a recom that had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his bald head. You knew he seemed familiar, but the liquor you had consumed earlier made it impossible to concentrate enough to remember his name.

"Oh excuse me, I- I‘m– I was just, uhm, looking for Colonel Quaritch?" You winced at the way you made it sound like a question, cursing yourself for embarrassing you by drunkenly rambling to a stranger.

"The Colonel?" He exchanged a look over his shoulder with some of the other soldiers, who were seemingly interested in what you had to say. "Why’s that, buttercup?"

"I, uhm, want to give him something", you improvise. "It’s urgent." That much was true.

The man looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes nearly peeling the little dress from your body as he takes you in, brows raised high.

"Give him something, huh? Why don’t you give that little something to me?" He laughs.

"He’s not here right now, but we can have good time together too", one of the others calls from behind.

You swallow the lump in your throat, awkwardly picking at your fingernails as your hands begin to shake. Deciding to back off and step back from the whole situation, you set one foot behind the other, already preparing yourself to mumble an embarrassing excuse before an arm wraps itself around your waist and you nearly stumble forward and into one of the soldiers arms.

"C‘mere pretty, I don’t bite", he grins, then points his chin to the bald soldier on his right, "But the Corporal over there sure does."

The men laugh and shove each other like a group of rowdy teenagers, and you’re honestly scared one of them could accidentally crush you if they fell. You use the short moment of chaos to wriggle yourself out of the soldiers grasp, only to be stopped short by your wrist.

"C‘mon short stuff, don’t leave", the bald one shows you an almost apologetic smile that you still struggle to trust. "Ignore these fuckers. Stay for a drink, yeah? I‘m sure the Colonel will be back in a minute. And we have the best beer anyone could get in this shit hole!"

Blame it on the liquor, but your mind was slowly beginning to draw blank, throwing all logic and consequences right out of the window and welcoming the nervous excitement of the forbidden. It felt like there was a pressure in your ribcage, making it harder for you to breathe properly, until you finally exhaled a shaky response.

"Just one."

The thing about working in the military is that you learn to kill your own tells. Killing your own tells is what keeps you from getting that double-tap to the back of the head. But learning how to pick up on what other people do when they're nervous as fuck, that's what’s really helpful, you’ve only just realized.

In hindsight, you should have known that agreeing to one beer that ultimately lead to two more and then to a round of poker was a bad idea. And now you’re perched up on someone’s lap and you don’t even know how poker works. That someone is named Lyle, you remind yourself of the previous learned name. His chin rests on top of your shoulder, nose buried in your shared cards that you hold up for him to see, one of his hands squeezing your hip while the other holds your hands steady.

"This one next," he whispers into your ear, pointing at the card on the far left before you laid it down in front of the table as instructed.

"Three fours showing, and over here…" The recom named Prager slaps another card down face-up in front of you. "Still garbage, sorry sweets. Ace high." Grinning, he pushes three colorful plastic chips into a pile in the middle of table. "I bet three."

The rest of the group remains silent, save for the sound of grinding teeth and stressed sighs.

The nervous trembling of your thighs doesn’t let up when the next round of cards is handed out, so you reach for the can of oversized beer and gulp the rest of it down.

"Relax, buttercup," Lyle chuckles, his hand soothing over your thigh, "You need to work on hiding your tells. You don’t want us to loose, do you?"

"Yeah but ya’ gonna if she keeps that up, Wainfleet," another soldier laughs.

"Poor thing is shaking so much, you might as well bet her next to finally get a lucky streak."

Crimson red fills the apple of your cheeks, barely visible however under the alcohol-induced flush of your skin. But even though your senses are as if in daze and directed at what is happening in front you, you still got enough situational awareness to realise that there’s someone standing in the doorway watching with a tense jaw.

"You gotta be careful," that someone says, the words flowing like nothing ever has, making the hair rise on the nape of your neck. "Betting another man's things like that."

And it should bother you, how easily he can categorize you as one of his things, like a gun or whatever fucking possessions he had, but it doesn't, because you are his. Aren’t you?

"Ah, boss", Lyle laughs, and you may not be a marine or recombinant or anything of the sort, but you could tell that he was nervous. Silence bleeds over the rest of team Deja blue as the Colonel steps into the room, sending cards go flying as he yanks you up by your wrist and throws you over his shoulder like a dead deer. Prey.

You squeak once the room has turned upside down, hands instinctively reaching for the hem of your dress to keep it in place as soldiers ogled the way Quaritch was walking you out of the room without another word and marched down the hallway.

The amount of times you’ve found yourself in his room could be counted on one hand, you came to realize, once you’re thrown onto his bed, almost bouncing off the oversized mattress.

A finger is pointed at you, and shame and dread uncontrollably fill your eyes with tears that dare to spill over as Quaritch barks at you like he’s lecturing a child.

"You listen here very careful, kid", he’s damn near yelling, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Kid.

Being now twenty-six years of age, you certainly took a degree of offense when a man his age still called you 'kid.' There wasn't much childish about you, never have been. Not in the last ten years, so there was no need for him to go running his mouths at you like you were twelve.

Balling your fists at your side, you barked right back at him, "I‘m not a child!"

For several seconds, there was nothing, and you wondered if you’d truly fucked up this time, and you don’t even dare to look up at the man towering over you like a mountain. That is, until the bed suddenly dips and a hand effortlessly closes around your wrist and manhandles you to bend over his lap.

You would squirm and fight and run if it weren't for the iron grip on your wrists, pinning them behind your back like the wings of a butterfly to a board.

"That’s right," he murmurs that part, but the rest comes out more sternly, "So quit actin‘ like one whenever something doesn’t go your way!"

The first blow of his hand descended onto your upturned ass comes so sudden and unexpected, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over, that you couldn’t help but yelp, before you sucked in a sharp gasp of air as the sting spread through you. "What the— fuck!" You hissed. "What are you even talking about!?"

"What am I talking about?" Quaritch scoffs.

You barely forced yourself to relax when the next one came, making you jump, and duck your head down even lower in a vain attempt to scoot farther away from his hand.

"I can smell the liquor all over you, hun. And the way you were throwing yourself at these little creeps? Don’t act dumb with me. You and I both know damn well what you were trying to do here."

"Y-You’re imagining things!" You protest. Another slap, and this time you could feel the smooth fabric of your dress riding up, giving him unhindered access to the tender flesh beneath. "Fuck, that hurt, you–"

Blow after blow came over you, cutting off every complain and every thought that might’ve formed if you could concentrate enough, and you might have tried counting them but there were so many. Too many, and your ass was burning and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to say you were sorry, you'd never do it again, and maybe the Colonel would stop soon and you could just promise to be good—

But he didn't stop and you heard the smack again and one more landed, and god damn it really fucking hurt. You only realised you had started speaking aloud, babbling apologies and begging for it to stop when fingers ran over your panties, feeling for your throbbing clit beneath the thin fabric.

"Tell me, would you’ve spread your legs for them like you did for me? Thought you could just take what you want because I’m not giving it to you?"

One hand squeezed and molded a cheek, and you moaned as he groped the overly sensitive flesh. If you could gather enough strength to crane your neck and look at him, you would’ve caught the way his ears flicked at the sound of that.

Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, more gentle, with fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out another moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable, that when you felt the thigh you laid on tense, you could only guess what was coming now.

"Does this turn you on, getting what you deserve?" Quaritch said lowly, the spanks stopping for a while in favor of torturing you with the barest of touches, rough fingertips flicking over that little bundle of nerves until you were whining and squirming.

"No," you then responded in a hushed whisper.

Pulling the fabric of your panties taunt, Miles gave you a mean wedgie as he inspected the wet patch forming right there. With a chuckle he told you, "you’re pretty little pussy is telling me otherwise."

"That’s– that’s not true!"

"Oh, it’s not? That means you did enjoy all this attention they gave you today, hm? You enjoyed having all these fuckers look at you like you’re candy they want to peel out of its wrapper?"

"I- No, I didn’t–"

Rough fingertips run up and down your slit, cutting you off mid sentence as you feel him pull your slip to the side.

"What were you even doing there?" His voice sounds calmer now, collected, as he thumbs your exposed clit.

"Was looking for you", you mumble, all fight gone the moment warm pleasure fills your veins the more he plays with you like this.

"For me?" Quaritch chuckles, brows raised high. "Why’s that?"

"You know why…" You groan when one of his digits that had been circling your entrance slides into you, painfully slow and teasing, just an inch before it slides out again.

"I do. But I want to hear you say it."

Biting your lip prevents you from giving in to his teasing, but it doesn’t help muffle the moan that’s slips out when he pushes back inside, letting you feel the stretch of your walls as they envelop not one, but two of his thick fingers.

"Missed me, hm?" He grins. You can’t see it from your position, but you can hear that shit eating grin in his voice. And then his fingers start to move. His palm smacks your ass with every thrust, fingers curling inside you to feel for that spongey little spot that made you gasp.

"C‘mon, say it."

He speeds up fast. Too fast for you to catch up with, forcing moans and wet squelching sounds out of you, until you huff out in frustration.

"Fuck, okay! Yes, I missed you." That one actually makes him laugh, enough for you to grind your teeth, turn your head and bark back at him, "And you’re an… you’re a jealous old man!"

"Yeah? That so?"

His eyes seem to pierce right through yours as he glances back at you, grin sharp and dangerous before he grabs you by the waist and spins you around so you’re pushed with your back against the mattress, instead of being uncomfortably bend over his thighs.

If there was one thing that was able to set the butterflies in your tummy alive and making them do little jumping jacks, it was the way Quaritch so easily manhandled you so you were bend like a pretzel, panty shoved down and over your ankles, who were now nearly touching your ears. It was harder to breathe like this, that was for sure. But you don’t mind the position one bit, especially with the view of him laying down flat on his stomach, head neatly nestled between your spread thighs as he admires the wet glossy look of your pussy just begging for him to finally fucking do something.

You had guys go down on you before. Two in total. And it wasn’t like they were necessarily bad at it, it was just that they apparently had learned one way to do it and then decided to stick with whatever that technique was called. And that’s when you decided that being on the receiving end of oral, it wasn’t really for you.

But with Quaritch, you knew from the very second the tip of his tongue parted your folds from your slit to your clit, that it was gonna be different.

It felt like the pleasure was shooting straight up your spine, making your back arch off the bed as he repeated the same motion once more, groaning when your slick juices hit his tastebuds.

"Holy shit", you let the words out in a shaky breath, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you.

"Eyes on me, cherry."

Glancing down on yourself, you catch the moment he spreads your folds with his thumbs to get better access to your clit that coyly peeks out from under its hood. Quaritch gives the little nub a teasing tap with his fingertip, and you both watch as a thin string of arousal and spit connect your clit with his finger before it breaks. Not even a split second later and he’s on you again.

You nearly choke on a moan when his lips close around your clit and sucks, his mouth halfway covering your whole cunt as he eats you out, tongue swirling around those sweet spots of yours. The noises he makes are wet, sloppy and so dirty, and it brings you to the edge of that pleasure high faster than you could process.

A hand reaches for his buzzed down hair as he gives you a filthy kiss right where you need it.

"Oh- Oh god, I think I’m gonna come", you moan as his hands slide up to hold you more open than you were before, so that he could taste you again and again, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper inside every time. Your hand curls tighter in his hair, tugging, and you worry for a moment that you were hurting him. Not that this was even possible. Still, you just couldn’t help it– touching him was the only thing anchoring you, as if you would float away and disappear if you‘d move your hands just an inch.

But Quaritch doesn't seem to mind, not if the way he groans, grinds his face against your pussy and thrusts his tongue deeper into you is anything to go by.

You could feel the pleasure growing inside you, in your toes and in your spine and behind your eyelids, and you arch against him, moaning at each touch of his tongue, his lips against your clit– sucking and slurping and kissing. It's building and you’re reaching for it, hips jerking violently as though to follow his mouth, and then you’re falling apart with a gasp that ebbs into a moan.

You don’t even hear yourself for the first couple of seconds, the blood rushing behind your ears drowning out the volume of your moans before your legs finally stop trembling and clenching around the head nestled between them.

Arms falling limp to your sides, you watch your own chest raising and falling in frantic pants. You’re spent and exhausted, truthfully. But you can’t help but notice that the wet glide of the Colonels tongue hasn’t stopped yet. It circles around your clit, not quite touching it, just teasing.

"Miles", you call for him, soft and quiet, voice hoarse from moaning. You’re not prepared for the sudden suction on raw nerves created by his puckered lips, and you cry out in surprise. Your legs twitch in overstimulation as he sucks and groans, the vibrations only adding further to the stimulation that quickly morphs from uncomfortable to pleasurable. "M-Miles, fuck! I- I can’t, wait!"

Your back nearly arches off the bed, if it weren’t for his his hands keeping you in place. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, licking every inch of your cunt, all those places that brought yet another orgasm rushing forward.

Unable to control the movements of your body, you pump your hips against his face as your stomach muscles clench and your head digs into the pillow underneath you.

"Can’t, I can’t", you mewl, "s‘too much!"

"No, you will take it", he says, barely lifting his head to speak and the air that blows out between his words send a full on body shiver through you. "You will take it because that’s what little sluts get. I‘m only giving you all this attention that you were seeking today and now you’re complaining?"

It takes a moment for you to find your voice.

"I‘m not- not a slut", you protest. Glancing down at Quaritchs face, his wet chin and lips slicked with you, his lips curl in diabolical pleasure.

"No? Then whose humping my face like this? Who’s been fucking dripping all over my thighs from being spanked, huh? Cherry, you are a little slut. A desperate one too."

His sharp tongue then flicks over your clit again, and you break into a thousand pieces. It feels so good you’re shaking, as red hot pleasure surges through your veins and clouds your vision. Your second orgasm ebbs away faster than the first, but is nonetheless as intense. The feel of sticky wet arousal soaking the sheets below you makes you cringe and you want to move away, but the iron grip he has on your thighs doesn’t falter. If anything, he just holds you more secure, pulls you closer, to press his tongue into you as far as it could reach.

"Oh god- please, I can’t!" You nearly sob, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes while Quaritch flattens his tongue to catch every droplet of slick running down your slit. "Give me a break!"

"One more," he purrs, dark and sinister, his sharp grin visible even as he peeks up from between your legs.

"I don’t know if I can," you whine, throwing your head back at the invitation of sensations that just don’t let up.

"You can and you will."

The pressure of his suction continues as he moves his tongue, trailing it along your lips and over to your clit again. He sucks the sensitive nub and then slides two fingers inside your body, curving them, increasing their pressure as your loud moans turn into screams.

Miles wraps his free arm around your waist, stilling your trembling hips and locking you in place. He increases the thrusts of his digits, rubbing intently against your walls as he sucks harder on your throbbing clit. He's determined to make you see stars and it’s for him to decide when this insanely pleasurable form of torture is finally over.

You could only hope, pray and moan to him, god or whoever– as you felt the beginning tremors of what you hoped would be your last orgasm for the night course through your body, and your legs clamp tightly, unable to withstand the sheer intensity of it.

Sensing the growing tension in your body, Miles suddenly pulls back, replacing his mouth with his thumb on your clit, stroking around the glands before touching it directly, causing you to cry out.

He grins, catching his breath, and then continues his assault on your body until you’re past the point of return, walls clenching around his fingers and thighs pressed firmly to his shoulders, framing his head.

It’s heat against heat, hot tongue against hotter folds, and you throw your head back and sob with relief. It’s good, really good— his tongue is long enough so that when he laps at you he hits your clit on the upswing every time. Your hips buck once its too much, his tongue nearly rubbing you raw but he holds you down and then it becomes just right as you fall apart with a cry.

It takes several minutes for your senses to come back together, regain your vision and hearing, and when you blink your sore eyes open, you’re met with Quaritch‘s, just as he’s finishing leaving a final mark on your inner thigh. His teeth have left a purplish imprint on your soft skin and he grins at you.

"You’re mine. Never forget that."

Taglist:

@littlesugarcube45 @hellok1ttycake @luvvsnae @ok-boke @mynameisbaby9 @vixorell @aduialwen @headsincloud9 @aconstructofamind @hotsingledragon @normsdaughter-alt @waiting4avatar @loaksulluyswife @mechformers @neteyamswillow @neteyamsyawntu @tallulah477 @hotdsworld @neteyamssyulang @byunpum @abcm18339 @eywaite @aperiraa @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @puddle-nerd @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @neteyamsoare @ruyaas-world @minnory @xylianasblog @quaritchxwifewh0re @aria-tempest @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @loaksulluyswife @itchaboi-itchyboy @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @torukmaktoskxawng @taronyuhunter @yawnetu @talialobi @anemonelovesfiction @bambithewriter @tumblingdevils @danniackerman @witchsprit @rivatar @quarotch

Let me know if you want to be added / removed 🩵

#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #atwow quaritch #avatar quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #quaritch #quaritch smut #quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #recom quaritch

[canthelpit0]

Fake?

Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader

Word count : 3.2k +

Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.

(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)

Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.

You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.

You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.

Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.

You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.

You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You hadn’t known what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.

How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.

Obviously you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt it was different.

He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally he seemed the most mysterious.

Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?

Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watch him move around.

Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.

“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.

“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”

Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.

People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.

So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.

“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.

“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.

Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.

“Okay” you give in. Because of course you do. This is your long time best friend. You can never say no to him.

He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.

“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.

“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.

“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.

“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.

In a rush of boldness you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets ontop of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.

It’s a sweet normal kiss, there is no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.

Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”

“Just let them think we’re dating too, im pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.

He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re laying snuggled up in his arms.

★ ★ ★

So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.

At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.

You were also a YouTuber and tiktoker now. Except you post whenever you want to.

You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.

You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.

People believe you’re dating. Wich was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.

Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.

But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, be close to each other.

It was almost like you were actually dating.

And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.

You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.

Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

“Matt.”

He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.

“Mhm?” He hums in response.

“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.

He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.

“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”

That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.

“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.

He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.

He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you in kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.

You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.

You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating for what he’ll do next.

“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.

Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.

“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.

He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.

You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.

Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiles fondly like this was all he was waiting for all his life.

“You’re so gorgeous.“

He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.

“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.

Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.

As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.

“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.

“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.

“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.

“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.

You groan dramatically. “Matt”

The way Matt looks between your things like that, only serves to make you even wetter.

He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off, and throws them across the room. Being careful not to put any pressure on you.

He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.

He also threw that across the room.

You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.

Matts eyes lock on your chest

He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.

You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.

“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.

He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.

“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.

Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.

His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.

You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.

Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.

His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.

His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.

He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.

You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.

“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.

You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.

And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.

In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.

That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.

“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.

His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.

The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.

You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.

You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.

“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.

“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.

And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.

Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.

“You can move” you mumble under your breath.

“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.

And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.

“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.

Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman who he cares for.

“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show, or meant platonically.

But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.

“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.

He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admited.

Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.

“I love you too”

He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.

“Do you?” You breathe out.

Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.

“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.

His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.

“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”

“I’m all yours, princess”

And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.

It just felt so intimate and loving.

He leans down again his lips capturing yours.

You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.

One of his hands move to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.

He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.

“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.

“Please”

He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.

The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.

You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- wich it is.

His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans wich sent tingles to your core.

He sounds so good.

Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.

“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.

You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.

“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.

You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.

“Let go for me.”

As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he does it anyway.

As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.

His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warm and closure of his body.

He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.

He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.

“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.

After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly as to not hurt you.

He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.

“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.

Masterlist

(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader smut #sturniolo fanfic

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡A Sky Full of Stars♡

♡ Pairing: idol!dad!hongjoong x fem!mom!reader

♡ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff

♡ Summary: Just some sweet moments you share with Hongjoong when you and your daughter surprise him after their Coachella set.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k

♡ Warnings: If there's any warning it's that your kid has a name. I know some people don't like that. She's named after an artist Joong likes who I think has a pretty name so that's all babes.

♡ A/N: I set out to make this super fluffy summer road/beach trip fic with Joong but I sat down to write and this is what came out instead so I present to you some post-concert fluff and I hope it gives you all the sweet feelings it gave me writing it.

This can’t be real.

It’s all Hongjoong keeps repeating in his head as he steps off of the Sahara stage at Coachella. His ears are ringing, his heart’s beating out of his chest, his throat’s on fire, and he’d walk right back on that stage to keep going if he could.

It seems like only yesterday his group was fighting to debut; now they’re here, performing on a stage some artists can only dream of stepping foot on. The joy on his member’s faces. The sound of their fans screaming for them. It’s a special kind of magic he wishes he could bottle up and keep somewhere safe to treasure forever.

“Captain!” Wooyoung cheers, throwing an arm around him, “We did good?” Hongjoong looks around to see his members staring at him, his approval all that matters in the sea of praise thrown at them by staff. Hongjoong nods, wiping his face with a towel, “We did good!” Smiles perk up their exhausted faces as they drag themselves down the steps leading to the backstage area.

Stepping onto the grass, Hongjoong stares up at the infinity pool of stars that is the California sky. Just when he feels himself begin to float away, a faint tugging at his pants keeps his feet on the ground. It’s so faint that he almost questions if he felt it at all until Yeosang lays a hand on his shoulder letting him know, “You have company.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes dance their way down his leg to find a smaller nearly identical set of eyes staring up at him. All he’d done not to cry is for nothing when he sees the chubby glitter speckled cheeks of his little 2 year old smiling at the sight of him. “Olivia…” he gasps, scooping her into his arms, “What are you doing here?”

The other members gather around like moths to a flame. Of any fan they’ve ever had their niece will always be their favorite. Mingi squats down to eye level with her, pinching her cheek, “Hi, Oli. Uncle’s here.” “Oh look at these” San coos, playing with the two ponytails sat atop her tiny head, “So cute.”

Hongjoong holds her close to his heart, shaking the tears from his eyes. “Daddy cry?” she asks, touching his cheek. Hongjoong smiles, choosing to dodge the question rather than lie, “Um, where’s your mo—” “Here!” you say, hugging him from behind. You had every intention of announcing yourself to begin with but the happiness on his face seeing Oli was too adorable to interrupt.

That same happiness plays on repeat when he feels your arms around his waist. You weren’t supposed to be here. Your flight had been delayed twice and the baby was beginning to get fussy. Hongjoong had insisted you just stay home and watch the livestream. Just knowing you were watching would be enough for him but that’d never be enough for you. If you had to grow wings to fly yourself here you’d have done it to be by his side.

Not satisfied with simply knowing you’re there, Hongjoong reaches his free arm back to pull you around to his side. Time slows when he looks at you this way—like you’re one of the most precious things on this Earth. You’re one of two really, the other’s bouncing in his other arm with her fingers scrunched around his collar.

“Hey you” you beam, wiping a few rogue tears from his face. Hongjoong kisses you, soft lips pressed to yours in what has to be the sweetest, saltiest kiss you’ve ever shared. You don’t care how sweaty he is, only that you’re together. “Hey you” he smiles, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You shrug, playing it cute so he doesn’t kill you, “I wanted it to be a surprise.” Give him a heads up so he has ample time to play it tough? Never.

“Ahem,” Seonghwa interrupts, “Does that mean you were watching and saw…everything?” The guys look at each other, suddenly mortified at their onstage antics. “Oh, for sure. We saw everything. She’s gonna be an alcoholic now” you tease just to watch their heart’s sink. Hongjoong shakes his head at them, “Shame on you. For the record, my cup was water.” 

Jongho throws Hongjoong some vicious side eye, “Water, right. Oli, your daddy’s a liar.” “Daddy liar” Oli repeats with a giggle. You dip your head down to hide your own laughter as the guys hit an equally amused Jongho with their towels. Seonghwa casually swipes the baby away from Hongjoong to teach her how to throw a few hits. Hongjoong chases them down as if he’ll never see her again, “Be careful!”

“Joong, she’s fine!” you shout after him, “As long as Hwa has her…oh, no…Mingi unhand my child!” 

“Goodnight stars and goodnight air” Hongjoong reads, flipping the final page of a children’s book, “Goodnight noises everywhere.” He closes the book and Oli cheers, flipping it over for him to read again. Propped up in his lap as he longues in a barely comfortable hotel chair, it’s clear her miniature lids are growing heavy.

“Honey, it’s late. No more Goodnight Moon. Bedtime, okay?” His voice is stern, he means business, but so does she. Oli flips the book open, her hand rubbing the first page. Her bottom lip pokes out and he knows he can’t say no to her. “Fine but one more time and then bed.”

You emerge from the shower in time to hear the story start back up again. “In the great green room…” Hongjoong starts in his bedtime story voice. You move quietly around the room, listening to the story for what’s the 1000th time for you too. As you do, you steal glimpses of them holding hands, turning the pages of the book together. Hongjoong pauses to let Oli read or poke around the pages marveling at the illustrations.

“Is bunny?” she asks, pointing to a figure sitting in a rocking chair. “That is a bunny” he cheers softly, poking his two front teeth out to mimic a rabbit. Oli copies him—it’s sorta her thing these days—making you laugh so hard you snort. “Are you laughing at me?” Hongjoong jokes, his mouth still in perfect bunny formation. It only makes you laugh harder. Your two little bunnies, twins in every way they can be. Especially in their silliness.

You approach the them, planting a kiss on both of their foreheads, “You guys are adorable.” Hongjoong leans his head back, allowing it to rest in the palm of your hand. “You are too. So adorable” he yawns, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. A blink and you miss it moment of silence passes before he speaks again.

“Did I do okay, today?” he asks, his tone more serious now, “I don’t want to…I can’t let everyone down.” “God, no. You were amazing. Look at me” you demand, cradling the sides of his face to keep his anxious gaze from drifting. “You. Were. Amazing” you repeat, “Your fans are so proud of you and your members they love you. And that little bunny down there, she loves you.”

Hongjoong looks at Oli who’s fallen fast asleep against his chest, her hand still in his. “We both love you and you fucking killed it. If anyone says any different I’ll kick their ass” you promise and you mean it. “What’d I ever do to deserve you two?” he asks, kissing your inner wrists. You lean in close to him, your lips hovering just above his, “Exist. That’s all you ever have to do, you know?”

Your lips part to meet his and he welcomes them, sipping down feelings there are no words for and pouring the same into you. “I love you” he whispers and you smile. “I love you too.” Easing the book from between them with mom-like precision, you throw a pillow on the floor and take a seat by Hongjoong’s feet. You open the book and begin to read, not to Oli but to him.

Finally relaxing into the chair, he strokes your hair and listens to the sweet sound of your voice. He balances Oli on his lap, his delicate little gem who treats him like the sun rises and sets in his eyes. He’d long ago sworn that he didn’t think he’d ever have everything. What a frighteningly beautiful realization it is that he finally does.

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #ateez au #ateez x female reader #hongjoong x fem!reader

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three

summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N

🧚‍♀️

a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee

read : [part one] [part two]

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.

Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.

You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."

"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.

You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."

"NO Lucien."

"YES."

"NO, I CAN'T-"

"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.

"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-

-a pair of orange breeches came into view.

"Oh."

"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"

An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.

"What did you realize, Lucien?"

"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.

~

Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.

He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.

He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.

He liked Elain.

"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.

"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.

God, she looked horrible.

Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.

Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.

Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.

"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.

Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.

“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.

Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.

“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.

“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.

“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.

“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.

“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.

As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.

Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.

He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.

Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.

--

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[miraclewoozi]

SPECTACLE. -j.ww

in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.

pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader. content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. w/c : 2.7k. notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.

content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.

Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.

You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up. 

He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb. 

Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.

“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he’s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.

You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.

“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why. 

It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.

“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once. 

You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.

“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”

You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.

“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”

You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression. 

Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.

“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time. 

“Are you s–?” You start to ask. 

Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. 

And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy. 

It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel. 

It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.

When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.

“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”

“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”

“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh. 

The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes. 

But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away. 

You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.

“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.

“What if they break?”

“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”

You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.

“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“I said, sit.”

His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.

“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin. 

“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”

He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.

“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”

Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.

“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”

So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and bounce down against his ardent mouth.

He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.

When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.

“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you. 

“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”

“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.

“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”

thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3

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