#i start things as a distraction from work and then get too stressed to keep watching 😣

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Steamy Situations 18+ (Alastor x reader)

Alastor x reader Rated: Adults only Warnings: Smut. It's shower smut. Female bodied reader. Careful with your shower sex.

Summary: You're hot and bored and your husband is busy working. If only there was a way you could distract him, get some of his attention and cool off. PS: https://discord.gg/q8kqx7ss is an Alastor server a friend of mine started and https://discord.gg/HeEbAHju is a vox server another friend of mine started. More friends are always nice to have <3

~~~~~<3 He had been slouched over his fucking desk for hours, working away at scripts for the next week’s broadcasts. They were perfect, probably had been for a while but when he was stressed, the perfectionist came out in full force. 

The summer heat and humidity had sweat sticking to your skin. Though the curtains were closed all day to keep the harsh sun from warming the house any more than possible, it was hot. 

The silk of your slip clung to your back as you crossed the room, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. If you were hot and grimy feeling, he had to be too. 

He huffed at the interruption, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he mumbled, not looking up from the pages in his hands. 

“I didn’t-” 

“Don’t lie to me,” he set the papers down with a huff. “Can I do something for you?”

“I need a shower,” you said, running your palm up the back of his neck, threading your fingers into the short curls that had grown wild with the humidity.

“Take one?” He leaned back into your touch as tension slipped from his shoulders. 

“You need one as well.” Your thumb rubbed at the drop of sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

“It would appear so,” He said with a laugh, shifting to face you. “Do you have something in mind, my dear?” 

“Well,” you slipped into the space between his torso and the desk that had been newly opened up, “If you need a shower and I need a shower, we should both take a shower.”

“Good thing we have two showers!” Alastor’s grin was wide as you struggled against the urge to roll your eyes again. 

“Or,” you drew out the word as you ran your hand up his chest, “We could take one together.” 

“How scandalous.” He sounded anything but scandalized as he patted your thigh, light reflecting off the simple gold wedding band. “Let’s get on with it then.” 

~~~~~<3

You had innocent intentions, stepping into the bathroom. Honest. 

It’s just, when you saw his warm tan skin under the running water, sending the shampoo down the valleys and dips between his strong muscles, you found yourself feeling rather jealous. 

You hadn’t even intended for this to happen. One moment his shampoo was running down his chest and the next it was your hands. Soft, water cooled skin over firm muscles that spoke of how hard her worked to maintain the property jumped and twitched under your touch. 

The water wasn’t hot but it wasn’t cold either, being somewhere comfortably between to soothe away the heat. It did nothing to cool the heat quickly building between you as his hands went to rest on your hips. His frame blocked the spray of the water, mist fanning out around him, catching the light in a way that made it look like he was glowing. 

“What?” 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, hands running up his water cooled skin to pull him to you. 

Standing on your tip toes, you trusted him to hold you steady as you slotted your lips over his. Strong hands wrapped around your hips, thumbs tracing circles over wet skin as your naked front pressed against his. Water running over his shoulder filled what little gaps there were between you. 

With a sigh, he pulled his lips from yours only to leave a trail of kisses along your jaw, “Thank you, my Dear. I am but nothing in the face of the beauty you possess.” 

“You flirt,” you tease, softly slapping his wet shoulder. 

“Hardly,” his chuckle seemed to bounce off the walls of the small room, wrapping you up in it as much as you were wrapped in his arms as Alastor croons, “Your beauty transcends even the brightest of flowers” Alastor croons. 

Your protest died on your lips as his warm tongue ran along your neck, dragging higher until his lips pulled your ear lobe between his teeth. You arch in his arms, trying to put space between you. His thighs were pressed against yours, member twitching to life against you as you half heartedly tried to wiggle out of your husbands arms.

“You’re not slippery enough to get away from me yet,” Alastor teased, arms tightening around you and holding you flush against him.

“Alastor,” you whined as one hand run lower, grabbing a palmful of your ass, “We’re in the shower, stop it’s-”

“Indecent?” Alastor teased, pushing her against the cold wet tile of the wall. “Scandalous, even?” 

“Yes,” your voice was weak as he looked down at you, cock pressing up against your thigh.

“Was it not you,” Alastor’s fingers slipped over wet skin, running up your ribs to cup a breast. Skilled fingers pinched and pulled at your nipple, “who disturbed me at my work with this indecent idea? Wishing to shower together?” 

“Yes?” 

Whimpering, you struggled to keep yourself from sliding down the wall. Alastor’s strong thigh pressed between your knees, pushing until they parted under the pressure. You had no choice but to yield until his thigh pressed tightly against your core, ensuring you would remain standing.

“And now? HA! Now you expect me to keep my mind on something other than having my wife’s wet,” He kissed your shoulder as he pressed his thigh against your slit with every word that followed, “naked, soft, inviting body on full display?” 

“Alastor, I didn’t-” 

“Don’t lie to me,” Alastor pulled your hips forward, grinding your cunt against his thigh. “You think I can’t feel your slick? I know that’s not water. I’m going to give you exactly what you wanted.” 

The dark promise in his voice had your core clinching against nothing. Delicate muscles twitched as a soft moan fell from your lips. Blunt nails ran down your sides as he smiled down at you. Fingers dug into the fat at your thighs as he simultaneously lifted you off your feet and pinned your hips against the wall. 

On reflex, you wrapped your legs around him. Shower spray pelted your legs as you struggled to grip his wet body. His hands seemed to have no issue holding onto you though. 

He ran his cock through your folds, gathering the slick and lubricating himself. Each pass over your clit had you arching, gasping and rocking into him as you sought more friction. There wasn’t much you could do though, pinned to the shower wall as you were. It was just how he wanted you, at his mercy. 

“Alastor,” you whined his name. 

“Just hold onto me,” he said as he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. You tensed in his arms. “Just relax, this is what you wanted.” 

He breached your entrance slowly. You spread around the fat head of his cock little by little as the unrelenting pressure left your body no choice. Pleasurable pain spread through you as he sank deeper and deeper within you. He was large and your body struggled to accommodate him without preparations. 

A shuddering ran up his spine as he bottomed out, forcing you to take all of him in one long slow thrust. Unstretched and unprepared, your body gripped him, walls fluttering around his cock as they strained to accommodate his considerable size.

You clung to him, arching in his arms as he chuckled against your shoulder. His body was burning against yours in contrast with the cold wet tile. It felt good. 

Rocking his hips, he worked his cock through your walls, ensuing you were spread over ever bit of him, taking all he had inside your walls as if there had been any doubt before. You gasped and twitched with ever shift of him inside you. Once he felt you had relaxed enough, he upped slowly from your body, holding you in place with his hands. 

Though his entrance and withdraw had been slow, what followed was anything but. He plunged inside you with such speed and force that your lower back slammed against the tile. He held you in place as his hips slammed into you again and again. 

You could do nothing but hold onto him and hope the water didn’t cause his feet to slip or you to slide out of his grip. Again and again, the head of his cock kissed your cervix with each thrust. 

Gasps turned into moans as he shifted your hips and his, letting the head of his cock rub against the spongy nerves that caused your cunt to flood with slick anew. Your fingers slipped over his shoulders, nails struggling to find grip before winding into his hair. Numb fingers pulled at his wet hair, his broken name all you can say as the coil inside you begins to tighten under his expert touch. 

“So tight,” you can feel his lips move against your neck as he fucks into you savagely. 

“Alas… Alastor,” your head falls back against the tile with a thump that you don’t feel. You’re so close now, so very close. No longer can you feel the cooling spray of the water or the tile. The sound of the shower is lost to you.

All you can feel is your husband’s body pressed against you, the grip he has on your thighs and his cock slamming into you again and again. All you can hear is his breath washing over you, soft praises whispered between moans and the music of his wet body meeting yours. 

With each powerful thrust, you could feel the twitch of his cock against your cervix. He was as close as you were. Knowing that you had the power to reduce the great radio host to rutting into you in the shower sent a thrill through you that was enough to push you over.

Your body clamped down around him as you came undone in his arms. The pull of your cunt trying to suck his cock deeper inside drew a long deep moan from him as his pace grew sloppy. A handful of thrusts later and he slammed himself inside, teeth latching onto your shoulder painfully tight as he tried to stifle moan that always came with his release. 

Rutting his hips into your twitching cunt to continue to stimulate himself, he refused to separate as his cock twitched and spasmed inside, seed shooting to paint your cervix with his essence and claim. 

As both your breathing calmed and he slowly began to soften, you unhooked your ankles from behind his back. His grip went slack, letting you stand on weak legs as his cock slipped out of you, leaving you feeling empty and sore but satisfied. At least for now. 

Alastor hummed as you settled against his chest, arms holding him in a light embrace. There was comfort in the sound of the popular tune and the sound of the shower spray. His strong hands rubbed suds into your body, lulling you further into relaxation. He washed your hair with tender care before allowing you to assist him with his own cleaning. 

Sitting you on the edge of the tub, he dried you with the same tender care. No one would believe he was the same man that so roughly, so quickly took you in the shower. As he rubbed the water from your hair, he tilted your head up and placed a soft chase kiss upon your sleepy lips. 

“I love you,” he said, smile as soft as his words. 

“I love you, too.” 

“Let’s get you to bed my Dear, so I can get back to work.” 

~~~~~<3 TagList: @catticora, @alastor-simp

#alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #Alastor smut #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #Hazbin alastor smut #Hazbin hotel alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #Hazbin hotel alastor #alastor radio demon

[darsynia]

Don't Read the Last Page Chapter 2

Summary: Your friend Nat claims her plan to distract Tony Stark with her sex appeal isn't working, so she wants you to do it with your brain--and a sexy red dress. Things start out completely over your head and get more complicated when SHIELD becomes involved.

Length/Warnings: 4,200 | none (future smut!!)

Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Prev | Next

Excerpt:

"Go, please, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your party.”

“It’s Tony, and I would, if I didn’t think you’d bolt the second I turn my back."

“Don’t worry about that, there’s still a lot of your house technology I want to see,” you blurt out, looking with honest interest at the lit-up interior of his famous mansion. When you hadn’t been stressed out about the dress, the spy agency, and possibly letting Natasha down, you really have been excited to catch a glimpse of Stark’s innovations in situ.

His hand tightens on your arm as he bursts into genuine laughter, pulling your focus back to him. “You know, I think you’re the first woman who hasn’t tried to use that line to get into bed with me!”

“Oh God,” you breathe, stumbling back against the wall. What are you doing here? How did you think you had the skills to attend something like this??

Chapter Two: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

When your car stops, you see that you’re in a short line of other vehicles making their way up to the entrance to Stark’s mansion. It gives you a chance to text Natasha about the crazy conversation you just had with her boss. The program Nat uses to text with you is some weird, proprietary one that makes you pick your nickname new each time. You use the same one as usual, CATnip, but Nat’s is always different, usually dependent on her mood.

CATnip: Your boss wants to recruit me to be a freaking sex spy, and I will never trust you again

TrustTasha: Maybe you misunderstood the assignment?

CATnip: I really don’t think so. He told me that SHIELD wants to keep him from getting too close to his CEO, like I’m in any way capable of competing with Pepper Potts! I’m in way over my depth here.

TrustTasha: Is this you exaggerating for effect or is that really what he said?

CATnip: I am 10% exaggerating. The car is pulling up.

The car stops, and you are gathering up your courage when someone opens the door for you and holds out a hand. You step out, tucking your phone into the gold clutch you brought, wishing you’d thought to check yourself in any kind of mirror in between being trust-stomped by Nick Fury and this moment. As you walk toward the door, you watch your feet rather than the scene in front of you, feeling very much like the ‘barely scraping by’ engineer who lives above her own storefront that you are.

“Excuse me?” a man says, and you look up. He’s a heavyset man, but you suspect that a lot of the bulk is actually muscle. The man’s wearing a black suit and an authoritative expression. He does a bit of a double take on looking at your outfit, and you look down to make sure the gold shawl is covering what you want it to be. “Trying to stand out, nice,” he says appreciatively. “Go on in.”

“Not really,” you mutter to yourself, but you do know your dress is sending a particular message. “You don’t need a name or something?” you ask him. It’s one last bite at your own paw to get out of the trap you’ve been placed in. If it doesn’t work, well, at least the bait is nice.

He laughs and looks back down at the slit in your dress. “I mean, if you want to give me a name, I certainly wouldn’t refuse it.”

For a long, horrible second you freeze as your brain dusts off the correct lines of code. This is a party, and he probably thought you were offering your name to him! Thankfully, it’s a popular party, and you’re jostled from behind by guests more eager to get in than you are. You take the opportunity to duck your head down and scurry in the door.

Once inside, it seems like every woman in sight is wearing black. You’re the only one in red and the only one with any gold as a part of your outfit. Now you understand what the man meant about standing out. You scan the room looking for Nat so you can give her a piece of your mind. Two of the dresses you were choosing between had been black! When you see her, you slip between through a group of young blonde giggling women, and call out.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

Nat clearly recognizes your voice, because when she turns around, her expression is amused. “Yes? Were you looking for a place to hang up your wrap?”

“Not at all,” you say politely, glaring at her. “Maybe a location for the bathroom?”

“Miss Rushman, please tell me you and the lady in red are friends?” someone behind you asks. You recognize who it is and close your eyes, caught between excitement and regret.

“I don’t think I’ve ever won a bet this quickly in my life,” Natasha crows. She’s holding herself in such a unique way, as if she’s meant to be on display, but not know it? It would be compelling if you weren’t ready to toss her and her entire organization off the cliff face the house is built on.

The thing is, you don’t want to be impolite, and you did hope to at least meet the man once in your life, so you slowly turn around to greet Tony Stark. He’s wearing slick gray dress pants, a matching suit jacket, and a mottled maroon shirt that definitely costs a lot of money, if the way it’s clearly been tailored to fit over the glow of his ARC reactor is any indication. Your eyes are caught by that glow right away, but you’re brought out of your fascination by the sound of him clearing his throat.

You look up into Stark’s eyes, and you’re even more startled by the obvious interest you can see in them.

“A room full of people here to celebrate my birthday, and you’re the only one in red,” he says warmly. In most of his public appearances he comes across as sarcastic, combative, or arrogant. Right now he seems almost lit from within, like his whole body is smiling. The man is the very embodiment of charisma.

“It seemed like an obvious choice, but--” you look around at the rest of the partygoers, some of whom are looking over at the two of you with curiosity.

“Were you planning for me to unwrap you, later?” he asks, his voice dropping in register as well as sound level.

You suck in a breath, suddenly realizing what your attempt to cover up the bodice of your dress actually looks like in this context. You drop back a step, eyes wide.

“I honestly hadn’t-- I mean--” you stammer. Stark steps close to whisper in your ear. 

“Breathe.” He turns toward the overlook on the other side of the room and jerks his head for you to follow him. “C’mon.”

“I’d rather just--” you shake your head, but to your utter surprise, he grabs one end of your gold shawl and starts backing away from you toward the door to the balcony. Stark’s expression is smug; whether you stay still and let him have his dramatic dress reveal or follow him outside, he obviously gets what he wants either way.

You choose the less revealing of the two and rush after him with a fist pressed tight against your heart, in case he tugs too hard. The analogy maybe hits a little close, tonight. This man whose career you’d followed for so long is completely focused on you, and you can feel his pull in more than one way. If you could chase all of the other people away and really talk to him, you’d be in heaven. Their scrutiny is what’s most upsetting to you right now. 

Another partygoer opens the door for the two of you and greets Stark, who acknowledges the man the same way a world leader might greet a diplomatic subordinate, magnanimously, as if owed the attention by virtue of his position. He walks you all the way outside to the overlook, other groups of people drifting out of his way as if it’s only natural to do so. As you keep up with him you can't help but wonder if Tony Stark has ever had to wait to see an exhibit at a museum or art gallery. Given how much scrutiny the two of you are getting, you suspect he feels more kinship with the displays than the audience.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you might need to yarf over the side. Not used to parties?” Stark says, leaning on the wall and looking at you curiously. He lets go of the fabric of your coverup with a twist of his lips that tells you he definitely thought about yanking on it anyway.

“You know how you buck the trend of tech professionals being typically shy, introverted, and awkward around people?” you ask, looking out at the view instead of him.

“Mm hmm.”

The sheer warmth in his voice is setting your nerves on fire. Your crush is a bonfire inside of you, optimistically blazing as if it can burn away your life-long career of being tongue-tied around men.

“Well I don’t. Buck the trend, I mean.”

“You work in tech?” he says. His voice sounds closer than it did before, and you look over to see that he’s drifted over, a completely different expression on his face. It’s everything you’ve always wanted-- Tony Stark interested in you (maybe? hopefully??) for your mind. You nod. “Where do you work? What do you do?”

A group of women start singing Happy Birthday over in the main room, the one with a DJ. You must have made some kind of terrible face, because Stark laughs, reaches out a hand and rests it on your arm where you’re leaning on the wall to keep yourself standing. The touch singes your nerve endings, sending heat from the point of contact straight to your rapidly beating heart. 

You barely expected to meet the man, much less feel the way he can so easily alter your brain chemistry. 

That thought helps you focus, somehow, and you picture yourself connecting every one of your twelve social brain cells to say, “Software and mechanical engineering, mostly. I run a small, very small design firm. Go, please, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your party.”

“It’s Tony, and I would, if I didn’t think you’d bolt the second I turn my back."

“Don’t worry about that, there’s still a lot of your house technology I want to see,” you blurt out, looking with honest interest at the lit-up interior of his famous mansion. When you hadn’t been stressed out about the dress, the spy agency, and possibly letting Natasha down, you really have been excited to catch a glimpse of Stark’s innovations in situ.

His hand tightens on your arm as he bursts into genuine laughter, pulling your focus back to him. “You know, I think you’re the first woman who hasn’t tried to use that line to get into bed with me!”

“Oh God,” you breathe, stumbling back against the wall. What are you doing here? How did you think you had the skills to attend something like this??

“Hey, hey,” Stark says, stepping directly in front of you and setting a gentle hand on either of your upper arms. “Don’t fuck with my ego on my birthday, okay? You look light-headed, and not in the good way.”

You pull in a shaky breath to apologize even as your inner swoon meter heads for the clouds, but Tony fucking Stark sends it to the moon instead by setting a finger on your parted lips. You’re completely captivated by the march of emotions that cross his face-- amusement, apology, and ardor, before he lands on a sternness that is somehow sexier than any of it.

“I see how I just made it worse,” he says, stepping back with a sheepish expression. “I’m still calibrated to birthday babes, not engineering ones-- yep, that’s still-- okay,” he scrunches up his face and then grins, glancing over his shoulder to their growing audience, crossing his arms to look at you with studied curiosity. “Are you telling me you put on that dress so you could sneak into my party and ogle my… inventions?”

He has to know how well his tailored suit sets off the pinnacle of all his inventions right there in his chest!

“Not just that. I did want to meet you, I just didn’t think about--” you break off as he shoos away a few persistent, nosy guests and herds you into a more darkened area of the balcony. “This is your element, not mine,” you finally confess.

The understatement of the century.

“And if I could be in your element, what would that look like?” His tone is different now, sounding less arrogant, less persuasive, but more real.

Getting what you want shouldn’t be this easy. It feels wrong, tainted, and you back up out of a sense of responsibility, almost as a ‘fuck you’ to Nick Fury and his ability to turn the truth into something morally reprehensible.

“T-shirt and jeans. Coffee. Sitting on the floor talking about inventions. God, what am I doing here?” you groan.

“Tony!” someone calls out from inside, leaning out the glass door, obviously drunk.

Stark throws up a peace sign in reply, but he’s looking at you like a particularly interesting design problem. Natasha’s getting her way, and you feel like shit about it, because you want his attention, just not like this. Not planned, not calculated. You’d warned Nat that you were arriving, did she pull him over to stand where he would see you when you walked in? 

“Stop that,” Stark says, eyeing you with the expression of a concerned boss. “You’re starting to look queasy again. Tell you what: you want me to enjoy the party? You wanted to stand back and be a wallflower? Do that. Just don’t leave. Lemme get a chance to talk to you after you’ve loosened up a little.”

“Oh, I can’t drink! I have work to do when I get back home. It’s either that or first thing in the morning,” you laugh regretfully. “Besides, I get more shy when I drink alcohol. I’d just chameleon myself right into the woodwork.”

“You need time, you’re saying,” he murmurs, looking past you toward the ocean. A fleeting look of sadness crosses his face before he squares his shoulders and makes eye contact again, fully back in Playboy Persona. “I don’t believe you. Everyone loosens up with alcohol!” Suddenly, he snaps his fingers. “In fact, whatever you don’t drink? I will. Down your fair share or take the blame for how completely smashed I’ll get.”

Whatever it was you’d almost glimpsed has evaporated completely. Stark’s trying to corner you, just like Fury had done, and you react as you usually do in that situation. You lash out. “I think you already planned to get very drunk. You’re trying to manipulate me,” you say harshly, crossing your arms. The action pulls at your shawl, and you clutch at it.

“Sure, I’m the one manipulating you, when you show up dressed like a present for me to unwrap, playing at being uninterested,” he says, advancing on you like a predator. There’s a light in his eyes that tells you you’ve activated the reckless streak Fury warned you about, but it’s not anger, just intensity. It’s vulnerability and vanity all at once, loneliness covered by an iron carapace. “Who sent you? What’s your name? What’s your company’s name?”

“My name is Cat. My company is Envision,” you say quickly, avoiding your real name and slurring the actual name of the company into the word its name is based on. EnvisIron’s name is a play the building itself, which used to be an Iron Works. The foundry had been converted first into apartments, and then into storefronts on the bottom floor. There’s no way someone with Stark’s ego will believe that your company’s name has the word ‘Iron’ in it without that having anything to do with him, even though you and your partners named it before he ever created his first Iron Man suit.

Stark looks at you with put-on suspicion, probably because you dodged the first question. You can tell it’s fake because he’s holding back a smile even as he narrows his eyes at you. It’s really attractive, and you wish that there really was a world where you could hang out with him in scruffy clothes and chat. Nothing about the way he’s spoken to you tonight has implied the kind of classism you’ve seen people complain about from the uber rich. You already had a favorable opinion of him despite all the stories about his antics in the press, and that just raises it more.

“It was nice to meet you, Cat. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t forget, have a drink. Have a few. Save me from myself.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” you blurt out in reluctant compassion, hating both the sentiment and the comparison to what Nick Fury had said less than an hour ago.

Stark had walked away, but he stops and looks back at you. Something happens when you lock eyes; he looks caught out, as if he was planning something self-destructive, and you’ve momentarily made him reconsider. Not more than three seconds later, though, he shakes his head.

“You know what to do to stop me, Kitten,” he says. The quick smile he flashes you is defensive, hurt, and you decide that he must see you as some kind of proxy for an argument with someone else. After all, you’ve just met. You don’t know each other at all.

You watch Stark walk away from you and desperately wish something was different. You wish that Nick Fury hadn’t spoken to you. That you weren’t afraid that Stark only wants you to get drunk so he can pry your shawl off, rather than actually talk to you person to person. You wish that you didn’t care that he might want to pry the shawl off. That you actually were the kind of woman he seems to wish you were. 

You wish that Natasha hadn’t invited you at all.

Despite how overwhelmed you are, you do try.

Stark nurses a drink for the first fifteen minutes after walking away. A few partygoers try to talk to you, but their conversation is vapid and uninteresting for the most part. Mostly they want to know what Stark said to you, whether you know each other, if you’re dressed like you are for a purpose (question complete with eyebrow waggling and voices dripping with innuendo). 

You catch Stark looking over at you and noticing that your hands are still just holding your gold clutch and no drink. He holds up a finger, reaches over to snag a full glass from a server’s tray, and downs it in ten seconds. Then he points at you, making an 0 with his fingers, then at himself, holding up a 2, stripping off his jacket and tossing it behind the bar. It knocks over a bottle, and he shrugs, pulling out a bank note from his wallet and handing it over to the bartender while holding your gaze the entire time.

If you could survive taking a swing at Natasha, you almost would. This entire situation is spiraling out of control, and all you did was be yourself! 

You try to strike up a conversation with one of the waitstaff, but that can only last a short while, since you know they’re working. When you see him next, Stark’s got a third drink, and it’s half gone.

That’s when you give up and go to get a drink of your own. You ask for the weakest drink possible, of the smallest amount. The plan is to nurse it, since you know Tony Stark would figure it out if you tried to fake it. Just in case, though, you ask the bartender if he’d be willing to just hand you an empty glass to hold.

“I actually do that for alcoholics stuck at parties like this, but I can’t, not for you. Whatever competition you have going on with the boss is between the two of you.”

Everything gets much worse after only an hour.

Stark is wasted. Intellectually you know that you can’t possibly be the sole cause of the night’s decline. He’d led a chaotic public life before the kidnapping and betrayal of his mentor, but you definitely contributed to his alcoholic brinkmanship.

A half hour ago he’d disappeared for a few minutes and come back wearing some parts of his Iron Man suit. He was already drunk by then, but he was still throwing you challenging looks. Stark had set up outside not far from you, allowing a succession of giggling women to fire the force weapon in the palm of his Iron Man suit into the night air. Natasha had dodged him, and you’d seen Ms. Potts walk outside with a wrapped present and turn right back around to leave after seeing him pretend to smack one woman on the ass during the transition of handing over his gauntlet to the next one.

You’re pretty sure Stark had been trying to single you out as the only woman who hasn’t gotten to try on the gauntlet, but you aren’t influenced by that kind of challenge. The more you shrink back and look uncomfortable, the more Stark seems to lean into his demonstrably destructive behavior.

The only reason you haven’t tried to leave is the worry Stark will do something even more attention-getting to stop you.

You’ve gotten Tony Stark’s attention, all right. In the worst possible way.

“Anyone else? No? Time for the main event, then,” he says. “Everyone inside. Come on, all of you. Every last one.”

He stands by the glass door, and you slip inside among a group of women who are drunk enough to throw their arms around you as if you’ve been a part of their cadre the whole time. Stark disappears for a few minutes after that, and you head for the front door.

It’s guarded.

A well-dressed man in front of you is ushered out with polite deference, but when you try to follow him, the man in the black suit you’d met when you first arrived steps into the space.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to stay put.”

“On a spectrum of asking politely to straight up kidnapping, what am I looking at, here?” you ask, pushed to your absolute limit. At least he has the grace to look ashamed.

“Nothing so serious. How about firmly asking?” He moves towards you, and you back up out of necessity. “Here’s the thing: he’s had a rough--”

“Year?” you interrupt.

“Something like that. Asked me to make sure you stuck around. Could you do that? Not if it’ll make you miserable, or anything, but--”

“Your boss is extremely drunk,” you point out. You know what you want to say, but it’s… drastic. Still, this man does look genuinely concerned, as if Stark was his friend rather than just his employer. For all you know, he is. “Look, Mr.--”

“Hogan. I’m his bodyguard, his--” the man sighs. “Sometimes, his minder. And it sure seems like he would mind if you left early.”

You nod, biting your lip despite the lipstick. “Okay, I’m going to say this, and maybe it’ll be enough for you to kick me out.” His eyebrows shoot up, but you’re committed now. You’ve never spent so much time feeling cornered in a twenty-four hour period in your life! It looks like you might have to ask your clients to grant an extension, because you barely have any brain cells active enough to rub together-- but who are you kidding? You're totally going to wake up in about fifteen minutes, and none of this absurdist unreality will have happened. It's actually surprising how disappointed you feel at the prospect.

The bodyguard clears his throat, and you realize you've just been standing there freaking out in silence.

"Right, sorry: There are lines, and neither of us are going to cross them," you say firmly. "He’s completely wasted in there, so no matter what he thinks is going to happen tonight, I’m not a rapist, and you’re not a kidnapper, are we clear?”

There’s actual relief on Mr. Hogan’s face, which is both strange and comforting. “Yeah, we’re clear. Thank you.” The sound of breaking glass causes both of you to look over in trepidation at the main party room. Hogan pushes past you, and you follow.

Stark’s holding court at the DJ booth with a microphone. He's wearing the Iron Man suit with the faceplate flipped up, arguing loudly with Pepper Potts, whose face is a mask of miserable politeness. You can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, but Natasha comes over and starts talking to Hogan.

“Can you tell the valets that we’re going to need them in about five minutes? This powder keg is about to go off.”

“Shit, okay,” he says. “Did you catch what they’re--”

“She told everyone the party’s over, and he started complaining that she’s no fun,” Nat says, letting her gaze slide over you as she frowns back at where Stark’s stepped forward to address the crowd again. 

Hogan's body language screams concern as he says,“All right, both of you stay out of the way if the crowd starts for the door, all right? Pretty sure he’d have my ass if either of you got trampled.”

With that, the bodyguard jogs out, and you can hear him calling to other people outside, indistinct but insistent.

You’re trying to come up with something not profane to say to Natasha about how you feel about all of this when Stark shouts something about an After Party and the crowd goes wild. 

To be continued...

In this version of Tony's party, you're the only one in red! I'd like to think fate would adjust things to ensure that happens, even if it's not the version we see on screen.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x f!reader #tony stark x you #iron man x reader #iron man x f!reader #iron man x you #iron man #tony stark fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #tony stark #mcu fanfiction #tony stark imagine

[skitskatdacat63]

did u like the departed? 👉👈

AAAAA I'M SORRY I MEANT TO FINISH IT BUT THEN FINALS WEEK WAS UPON ME 😭😭

But thank you for reminding me !!! 💕💕 I will finish it tonight hehe :)

#i start things as a distraction from work and then get too stressed to keep watching 😣 #my brother was bullying me so hard for this: #'wdym you didnt finish it?? how could you not finish the best movie of all time in one sitting??? what is this disrespect!?!?!?' #but i will finish it and come update you! i promise you JD 😭😭😭 #but like with china 2009 i watched a bit and then started thinking too hard abt everything i had left #and got distracted from my distraction hahaha #but i promise i did not forget to tell you 💕 #catie.rambling.txt

[foxy-eva]

Stress Relief

Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut 

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something. 

Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."

Oh. 

There was only one bed. 

The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option. 

Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?" 

"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."

Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ." 

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!" 

You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.

"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer. 

You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."

With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.

When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least. 

Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place. 

“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look. 

A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine. 

As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.” 

He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”

The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were. 

“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”

Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck. 

“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you. 

“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained. 

To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”

Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.” 

You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore. 

When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center. 

There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot. 

He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed. 

“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.” 

Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you. 

To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.

“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?” 

Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.” 

“You read a book about massages?”

The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice. 

“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all. 

It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking. 

“Are you interested in that?”

Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!” 

“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!” 

Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him. 

“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded. 

Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point. 

His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”

Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”

“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.” 

The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back. 

Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to. 

The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs. 

Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions. 

“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.” 

You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish. 

“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going. 

One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.” 

Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon. 

“Please continue and… go lower.” 

In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts. 

“Like that?” Spencer groaned. 

You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”

As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild. 

You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.” 

“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response. 

There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him. 

The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet." 

It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him. 

The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment. 

"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."

At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.

Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. 

You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."

With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead. 

The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.

"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl." 

You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you. 

When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?" 

Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle. 

You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat. 

His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.

With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face. 

"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again. 

"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips. 

His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand. 

Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions. 

"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him. 

He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."

Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"

As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist. 

He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?" 

You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.” 

"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."

With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you. 

As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves. 

“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.

You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."

His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions. 

"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice. 

That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.

When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself. 

Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air. 

You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.

Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.

When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles. 

"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned." 

"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut

[eddiesxangel]

You Look Tense |Masseuse!Eddie x f!reader

Cw: reader uses where/her pronouns, seduction, perv!reader, perv!eddie, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected, pull out, pet names (sweetheart, good girl) modern!eddie

wc: 2.9k

You were on a fold-out massage table in the middle of your living room. You downloaded the app to have a masseuse come to you on a whim. Your friend swore by it. You were a bit apprehensive about letting some stranger come into your home and rub you down while you were naked, but she said it was legit.

When you heard the knock on your front door, you didn’t think you would open it up to one of the hottest men you had ever seen. Leaving you staring at him with wide eyes and your jaw agape.

“You order a massage?” He smirks.

“Yea, sorry, um, come in.” You observe his dark blue scrubs as they hug his upper body.

You lead him inside to show him where to set up.

“First time?”

“What?”

“Is this your first time using the app?” he smiles. Taking off his coat, you notice his tattoos and muscular forearms.

“Oh, I’m… yeah.” You stammered because you were so distracted.

“I could tell, don’t worry. Things are strictly professional.” He explained.

Professionalism was not what you were worried about at this point. Quite the opposite, really.

After Eddie set up his things, he instructed you to lay face down, and then he left the room so you could strip and get under the white cotton sheet.

You called out that you were ready and heard his light footsteps entering the room.

“Anything specific you want me to focus on?”

“Um, my lower back and shoulders have been really hurting,” you mumble into the head pillow.

“Ok, great, let’s get started.”

-

His hands were like magic, the way he wasn’t too rough or too light. He worked your soar muscles perfectly.

“What’s got you so tense, sweetheart? Let me help you relax,” He spoke.

Relax?! How could you be relaxed with this extremely attractive man who is rubbing his hands all over your naked body in your own home!

And the voice! Oh god, his voice is so hot, you don’t want him to stop talking. It didn’t help that you were wound up in more ways than one.

“Um, uh…. Work, I guess.” You didn’t need to guess; you were drowning in the stress of your responsibilities.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help with that,” he hummed as you heard the squirt of more oil fall into his large palms.

“Oh, yeah, your shoulders are so tense; that's a big knot.” You felt him shuffle, so he stood at your head. If you lifted your head up any further, you’d be face to face with his crotch.

You were trying too hard not to let out a moan as his strong fingers dug into your aching back.

“You gotta relax for me. Is the pressure too much?”

“No-no, you’re perfect- I mean, it’s perfect…”

Eddie let out a chuckle as he continued.

This was so good, too good, but he was right...You needed to relax. You tried not to focus on who was above you but on the feeling that he was giving you.

A few minutes later, you were successfully relaxing into the table.

“That’s it, very good,” he praised, and you let a moan slip out.

“Sorry,” you squeak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It happens all the time, and it lets me know I’m doing a good job."

Like Eddie said, he was keeping things strictly professional, but you were making it very hard, especially with that moan you let slip from your pretty lips.

Your skin was unbelievably soft, and you smelled really good. With this particular job, Eddie is used to all kinds of different clientele; he never knew what he was walking into when he got booked. So when you answered the door, he was very pleasantly surprised.

You stew in your own thoughts about how good this man’s hands feel, holding back the noises threatening to break the silence. The only sounds filling the room are Eddie’s feet shuffling, breathing, and wet, slippery skin.

“The best way to help with your shoulders is if I also rub down your neck and head. Are you okay if I get oil in your hair?” he asked again in that sexy, soothing tone.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you sighed. Eddie smirks to himself again, knowing he is doing a good job.

“Great,” he shuffles to position himself to get the best angle. You feel as he sits beside you on the table, drapes your arm over his thigh, and uses his free hand to work at your neck.

His hand slowly works its way up, up, up until his long, thick fingers grip your hair, tugging on your scalp. His fingers dig into the perfect pressure points on your head.

You can’t help but let out another moan of pleasure; it just feels so good. You can’t stop your mind from going to an x-rated place, thinking about how good his hand feels tangled in your hair.

You couldn’t ignore your pussy any longer; there was no denying how wet you had gotten over the last half hour, and he hadn’t even made his way down to your lower back. How are you supposed to survive the rest of the time?

Your pussy was throbbing by the time Eddie made his way down to your lower back. You could feel Eddie move the sheet down lower, exposing more of your skin to him. He lightly draped it over your ass, careful not to expose it too much, trying to tuck the sheets into the band of your underwear, but to Eddie’s surprise, you weren’t wearing any.

You hear him clear his throat as he discovers that you are fully naked underneath.

“What side is, uh, bothering you?”

“Right,” you sigh. And I think I might have pulled the back of my thigh,” you suggest, hoping Eddie reads into it.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” he hums.

Eddie was in serious trouble, and the thin material of his pants did not help his situation.

Eddie had never grown hard with a client; this was not normal. He could not excuse himself until the session was over, so he hoped and prayed that his situation would defuse itself until it was time for him to leave.

It did not, you were torturing him, at this point you had to be doing this on purpose. Your moans were getting more and more sensual.

“Mmmmm, you’re so good at this,” you praise as his hands run along your lower back, creeping closer and closer to your ass muscle.

“So I’ve been told”

“Bet you’re really good with your hands in other places.”

Eddie froze. Did that really come out of your mouth, or did he hear things?

“You uh-" he cleared his throat, “-uh, said your lower back, right?”

“Yeah, but like, really low,” you hummed.

“You comfortable if I move the sheet, uh, lower?”

“Yeah,” you wiggled your hips slightly to encourage him to take things further. You cannot remember the last time you had been so turned on.

You hear Eddie’s breath hitch as you feel the fabric slip off your skin.

“Oops”

“Oh shit-”

“It’s okay; you can leave it off”

“You? Uh? Oh-okay” what was he thinking? This was not professional! It would get him fired if anyone found out… but how could they? He was in your home. You wouldn’t tell anyone? Against his better judgement, he decided to leave you exposed…

With your naked body exposed to Eddie, he continued to work on your lower back. Your oiled skin was glistening under each touch, and Eddie’s cock was growing by the second.

Eddie’s hands worked lower as he hesitantly yet excitedly explored the vast planes of your body. He hadn’t dared make a move, but you could feel his hands move closer to your inner thighs, so you partied your legs so he could have better access.

Eddie watched as your legs moved for him, your legs parted, and he had the perfect view of your glistening pussy lips.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he knew he had not even gotten close to that area of your body with the body oil.

With a deep breath, Eddie grazed his fingers closer to your upper inner thigh, right below your ass; the tops of his fingers lightly traced the outside of your lower lips to test the waters.

The last thing Eddie needed was to read your advances the wrong way and end up in jail.

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you hummed, encouraging Eddie to keep going.

“You need me to work on anything else?” Eddie asked suggestively.

“Now that I think about it, I pulled my groin the other day; I think you could really help me with that; you’re so good with your hands.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, shifting his weight to get the best angle. You felt him crawl up onto the table with you and straddle his legs around you.

His hands work your ass, massaging the muscles up, pulling your skin taught so he could see your swollen pussy lips.

Sucha pretty pussy

“Mmm thank you”

Shit, did Eddie say that out loud?

You let out a chaste breath as you felt his long thick fingers finally graze your wet slit.

Eddie gently massages circles onto your clit, and your hips roll into his hand.

“Mmmm, that’s it, relax f’me… this is what you needed, hmmm?”

“Uh-huh,” you sigh as your body fully relaxes into Eddie’s soft touch.

Eddie’s hand continues to work your fluttering clit before he decides to let an oiled finger slip into your hole.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are so tight, so tense. You should have told me earlier. I really need to loosen you up” he pumped his finger in and out of your pussy before curling his fingers to massage your inner walls.

“Maybe we could extend the session,” your breath hitches.

“I think that can be arranged,” he slips a second finger effortlessly.

As he continued to work your pussy he added his thumb to your clit. That familiar feeling of lust and need built up in your lower stomach as Eddie sped up his fingers.

“More,” you pleaded. You were at his mercy. You’d do anything to have him make you cum.

“I think I need to get in deeper,” he hummed.

You liked that idea; you popped up to finally see him. You watched as his pants slipped from his hips, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock staring you in the face.

“Like what you see?” He smirks as he watches you checking him out while he checks you out, seeing your naked breasts for the first time.

“Yeah, like what you see?” You ask back.

“Oh yes,” he leaned in to cup your face, bringing your lips together.

Eddie’s mouth took over yours, and he ravaged you. His plush lips were so soft as his lips explored your own. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his soft hands moved up your middle to kneed your breasts.

You shuffle back so Eddie can place himself between your legs.

“Need you now,” you spoke into his mouth between kisses.

“Want you so bad” Eddie replies.

“Please,” you begged for him.

Eddie stripped the rest of his scrubs and exposed the tattoos that dawned his alabaster skin. He was covered head to toe in ink. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but the need to have him inside of you was more, so you widened your legs as far as they could go to expose yourself.

“Thought you said you pulled your groin” Eddie smirks

“Guess your magic hands healed me” You sank your hand between your legs so you were touching yourself, teasing Eddie as you worked your fingers in your needy clit.

“Magic hands, huh?” He replaced your hand with his.

“Mmmmhmmm,” you hum as Eddie kisses you and guides you to lie on the fold-out table.

“You think these are magic just wait and see what my cock can do.”

You gasp as Eddie slips the head of his cock across your wet lips, collecting your slick before the tip of his cock breaches your hole.

His cock was thick and long. Slowly, he stretched you out inch by inch. Sinking deeper and deeper until you enveloped him wholly.

Eddie watched as your pussy swallowed him, skin to skin, he didn’t even know you, but it didn’t matter; all that mattered was how you were making him feel and how he was making you feel.

“Oh, Eddie!” You cried as he started building up his speed, pumping into you.

“Mmmmm, I like how you scream my name.” You watch as his body pumps into you, his abs defining themselves with every thrust in. His big hands grip as best they can on your oiled skin and push your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he does.

“S’big,” you try and grab at Eddie, but he’s too far out of reach, so you ball your hands into fists and grit your teeth in frustration. You want to feel him, to touch him, to have all of him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Wanna kiss you” you whined.

“Shhhh, you’re okay; as long as my dick is inside of you, you’re fine.”

“Oh fuck!” He sunk deep into you, faster and faster, his hips thrust his cock deeper into your needy cunt.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl.”

God, the mouth on this man, you had no idea.

Eddie gave in and leaned over to kiss you before he unexpectedly jumped off the table and flipped you over to your hands and knees.

“The only way I’m going to get as deep as you want, baby,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Just give it to me”

“Oh, asking to be fucked? Wanna be fucked by my cock, huh?”

You nod your head frantically as he aligns your hips to be at the perfect height for him to pound into you.

“Fuck look at that” he massaged your ass, spreading it apart before plunging his hard cock back into your throbbing pussy.

You let out a scream; Eddie was right; this angle was deeper, so deep you swore he was in your stomach at this point.

“That’s it, you can take it.” Eddie watched as your oiled skin bounced off his cock, and he swore he was in heaven.

Your tight pussy clenched down on him even more from the angle. The way your warm wet walls were hugging his cock, how your ass looked bouncing off his body, he could have come by now, but he wanted to hold off, savour this a little while longer.

Eddie reached round your body to massage your clit once more. His fingers were moving so meticulously while his cock was pouncing into you from behind.

“Faster” You grabbed Eddie’s wrist because his fingers were too slow; no way you would cum from them slowly circling your swollen clit.

Eddie listened to your plea and picked up the pace with his hands and his hips. Eddie was pounding into you so hard. If you were an outsider looking in, you would swear the fold-out table would have given out, but you were so cockdrunk you had no other thoughts than how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close, baby; I can feel the way you’re squeezing me; you’re going to cum when I say okay.”

“Can’t hold it, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad!” your upper body gives out, only making your ass arch higher for Eddie. He looks down to see the creamy ring form at the base of his cock as your orgasm threatens to take over.

“Hold on, on my count ok.”

“Mmmmmmmm” was all you managed to get out. Eddie s fingers still circling your clit, with his cock hitting your g spot. There was no way you were holding out any longer.

You wanted to cum so bad, but you also wanted to please Eddie, your friend, your hardest.

“Cum for me in…. 3….2….1, cum on my cock” he spoke between each thrust into you.

You listened and came as soon as the words left his mouth. Your body seized, and your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your silent cries were met with a wave of pleasure that washed over your whole being, soaking Eddie’s cock even more.

It could have been minutes or a few just a few thrusts later, you didn't know, but Eddie pulled out and finished, spreading his seed on your ass, which was somehow still perched in the air for him.

“Holy shit,” you hear Eddie whisper. “Definitely never done that before,” he laughed.

“Same,” you sigh, still fucked out.

Eddie picked up the discarded sheet off the floor and wiped off the remanence of his seed off of your ass and back.

“So, uh, that fix your problem?” He smirked.

“Only time will tell.” You sit back up finally with the sheet wrapped around you. “Maybe next time we will have you set up in the bedroom… You know, there is more space up there,” you smile.

“Next time?” Eddie smiles back.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll even cook you something, buy you dinner first.”

“I’d like that.”

Tags: @munson-blurbs @hunter-in-the-upsidedown @joejoequinnquinn @hellfirenacht @cinemabean @voyeurmunson @impmunson @asimpforthe80s @ali-r3n @take-everything-you-can @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @strangerstilinski @daisy-munson @bl00dy-hideout @babybimbo777 @lokis-army-77 @jamdoughnutmagician @sadbitchfangirl @mrsjellymunson @xacora @girlwiththerubyslippers @justiceforfoxface @katethetank @frogtape @cool-nick-miller @susie3334 @mrmiyagislittletrees @penguinsandpotterheads @eddies-acousticguitar @elvirasleftnipple @american-idiot-jpg @emo-taurus @ilovetaquitosmmmm @chloemm13 @gri959gri @seatnightsdea @faeriemunson14 @veemoon

#Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #modern!eddie #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #modern!eddie munson x reader #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie munsun x you

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 4 )

<<< Part 3

Relationship : Fluff

Warning : None (?)

Plot : Every time you enter the Playcare you feel eyes watching you everywhere you go. You feel stressed and start to become sick.

Recently, you feel uneasy and something tells you that you were being watched. Every time you go to work, you feel eyes on you.

It scares you.

Nobody likes the feel of being watched.

It made you stressed out.

You tried to get rid of these feelings by distracting yourself with work. You tried to keep yourself busy to a point you overwork yourself with all those papers or taking care of the Smiling Critters.

To a point it made your body ache and have a migraine from overthinking.

Not only that, Catnap has been acting quite differently too and his visit has become less and less each day. Not only that—

The lovely and sweet cat is avoiding you!

You finally asked the feline, what's the matter but only received—

"It's nothing...."

Nothing....nothing? Obviously there's something wrong!

Multiple questions began to swarm into your brain like a raging tsunami, did you do something wrong? It must be you, right? Yes, no? Maybe?

You had a slight feeling it has something to do with the higher ups.....

Did they tell Catnap to...avoid you? It has to be it, right? Why they do such a thing?

The stress starts to eat you the more you think about it.

Dogday and the other smiling critters saw that you've been stressed lately to a point it started to affect your health. It made them worried, especially Dogday. As a leader, it was his responsibility to care for everyone's wellbeing, including you.

"Angel, You look nervous lately. Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, hey. Dogday....."

Dogday knew something was wrong. He comes closer to you and touches your shoulder.

You slightly flinch under his touch which made the canine even more worried.

"Angel, please tell me. Is something bothering you?"

"......"

"As a leader, it's my duty to help everyone in need. I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you"

"....."

Dogday holds your hands gently and holds them in his large ones.

You take a deep breath before telling him what's been bothering you, you know it will be useless to ignore the canine. He is stubborn and won't stop until you tell him what's wrong.

"I feel like something bad is going to happen. I don't know when. It might happen now, Sooner? Tomorrow?"

"......"

"I really hate this feeling, Dogday.....I-I can't get rid of it and no matter how many times I tried to forget it by distracting myself with work, I just.....couldn't— Not only that, Catnap has been ignoring me and started to avoid me! I— ugh, m-my head"

You suddenly drop to your knees causing Dogday to panic and he begins to whine worriedly.

Dogday's heart clenched the way you spoke. You feel scared, anxious and nervous. The canine pulls you into an embrace, in hope that it will help you calm down.

"Let's get you to the infirmary..."

Dogday makes sure that the school doctor treats you and gives you medication.

"Mrs. (L/n), I think it would be better if you take a week off from work"

"A week?!"

"Angel, it's for your own good"

"But—"

"No buts, end of conversation!"

The doctor said sternly you were causing you to snap your mouth shut.

The doctor also recommended you to rest someplace quiet and away from the city and your workplace.

It seems you have to go to your foster parents house, they always welcome you with open arms if you need anything.

"Alright...I'll take the day off..."

But still....that gut wrenching feelings still resides in you....

For today, you need to rest in the infirmary room until you are discharged.

Dogday leaves you to rest before proceeding to make his way back to his stage but before that, he wants to find Catnap first.

Dogday knows that Catnap is great at hiding, but it won't stop him since he has his canine sense helping him.

He sniffs around to find the feline until he sees the cat, snoozing around his stage like he always does.

"Catnap. I need to speak to you..."

"...Speak"

"(Y/n) is sick, have you not noticed?"

"...I know..."

"Then why did you help her with your red smoke? To make her sleep and at ease?"

"....."

Catnap looks away from the dog, Catnap knew that you were sick. It hurts him to see you like that.

He wants to help and comfort you, he really does but...

He had received an order he has to obey. His had to choose between two individuals that he adores. One he worships and the other he loves. Yet, he chose the one he worships, the one that saves his life.

Catnap knew that Dogday will help you and he trusts the dog with you in his care.

Other than that, using the red smoke on you will make everything much worse and potentially kill you in your sleep.

He doesn't want that to happen to someone who cares for him and loves him.

"Why?"

"Red smoke use...on stress person...bad could hurt and... possibly.........kill..."

"O-oh..."

Dogday rubs his arm before turning away, but before he leaves.

"Please, pay her a visit, Catnap. If you do, it makes her less worried and she would be happy to see you again"

"Also, She won't come to work for a week...."

Dogday leaves Catnap's stage, leaving Catnap alone to think about his decision to see you.

A/N : Another chapter finished 😁 . Also, a fair warning for all of you. The future chapters will become darker as it progresses since I want to stick to the plot of the game.

Also, the mascots have their own stages to perform for the orphans!

#poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime catnap #smiling critter #smiling critter dogday #smiling critters x reader #smiling critters catnap #dogday x reader #catnap x reader

[lunarw0rks]

────141 headcanons: touching the belly────

a/n: y'all know i'm a sucker for the the pregs trope so i had to do this request. and i only did the four dinguses for this one, sorry anon ☺️

warning(s): pregnancy, fluff+angst, invasion of reader's personal space/privacy, protectiveness, hurt/comfort?, afab!reader

‧˚₊ MAIN MASTERLIST ⟢ 141 MASTERLIST ‧₊˚⊹

๋࣭ ⭑ PRICE

⌞one of the perks of being married to john is being supported. quite literally the definition of it, in every form. that goes for your baby too, no questions asked. he's more akin to simon in being traditional while you're expecting. wants you home, resting and not lifting a finger.

he's very particular about who he lets close to you, more than ever now. it makes sense considering his work and the general fragility of a new family. in the same way as kyle, he's constantly stressed. wants everything to be perfect for you and soon to be little one.

always has his eye on you, just like he does all his men. there's nothing he doesn't see or already knows about. honestly, may even spot a bad apple before you do. won't even bother with politeness and will shoo them away before their hand(s) even make contact with your tummy.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ SIMON

⌞ he was already protective enough before you got pregnant, but he's at a whole new level now. practically a full-time security guard by the time you reach your third trimester. ESPECIALLY when you two find yourselves out and about — which isn't often.

on the off chance that you're at some sort of gathering with simon, he's at your side no matter what. eyeing every person who approaches you, only chiming in when spoken to, out of mere courtesy. as soon as you give him any inkling of discomfort, he's asking you if he should go start the car.

one thing he hasn't gotten used to yet is the touching. how people often belaud pregnant women. cross boundaries constantly to get a feel of them and their bellies. it's already hard enough getting the man to relax, but it's hopeless now with all the new people he "needs" to keep an eye on. it's not a matter of him catching someone touching your belly; he'll already be standing there most likely. glares, huffs, will certainly go as far as removing their hand if it lingers long enough.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ SOAP

⌞doesn't see any point in excluding you from functions if you think you can handle them. loves having you on his lap or right beside him when he's out, even in pregnancy. as long as you're comfortable and able to signal to him when you're too tired or need something — he's just happy you're there.

most of all, johnny is fiercely protective of the bump. more than he is of you (which is nearly unfathomable, i know). and if there's one thing he loves more than you — it's gushing about you to anyone who'll listen. so, initially, he might not notice someone making you tense while amid his blabbing.

but after so long with him, you've learned to accept the flattery for what it is and remember how easy it is for him to get distracted. a firm squeeze to his hand or a tug to his jacket will do the trick. but once realizes what's happening, he's on it (with his new Dad Speed). finds a way to distract the person and slip you the car keys. promises he'll be out in two minutes to drive you home — and he always is.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ GAZ

⌞ even though he'd prefer you bundled up in bed and waiting for him, kyle still enjoys doing things with you. he definitely gives a wider berth than the other guys, but he's just as vigilant (if not more). he's more subtle about it, if anything.

it isn't just you to protect anymore, it's you and his baby. so, forgive the man for his pinched brows and clenched fists, he's reverted into nothing but a ball of anxiety the further the months progress.

doesn't mind people having a feel of you, usually, when they only mean well (it's typically older ladies anyhow). but sometimes it's a more unsavory interaction; someone who isn't taking any hints, who can't bear to leave the two of you alone. on one hand, gaz understands — an expectant, attractive couple out on a wholesome shopping trip is bound to lure attention. he takes a slower approach, less hostile to avoid upsetting you anyone. brushes it off with an excuse; "oh, love, you got that appointment today, right? don't wanna be late." and then makes his exit, a guiding hand around your waist.⌝

#dividers by cafekitsune #>>> all creds to them #mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #141 x reader #141 x you #141 task force #mw2 x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #141 headcanons #mw2 headcanons #mw3 #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #soap x you #kyle garrick x reader #john price x you

[satoruhour]

very gojo-coded‼️ like if there’s one thing mans cannot do it is keep his hands off you

a/n: UR BRAIN >>> / tagging @jabamin @osaemu @hyomagiri :3

warnings: i guess reader is a little shy in this? fem!reader, a little teasing, use of ‘mama’, pet names, humping, fingering, lovesick gojo, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

“baby—” you’re quick to retract your statement when you catch your boyfriend trying to relax after a long day of fighting curses, but he’s more holding his head in his hands and just taking a moment in silence for himself. the television only does more than what it’s intended for by providing an annoying canvas of background noise but he’s just too content with finally being back home that he doesn’t care.

he reached home when you were in the shower, a little surprised he didn’t try to teleport himself into the cubicle itself, but you think it’s because he’s exhausted; maybe he needs a little . . de-stressing. gojo hums at your resigned call and doesn’t turn to face you, but you know he knows that you’re surely naked and dripping under your towel, meekly holding a bottle of moisturiser and hoping you wouldn’t have to take another shower with the actions that’s sure to occur.

“what is it, sweets?” gojo asks, head tilted back along the edge of the couch, but he finally tries to turn his head toward you, smiling a little when he sees your figure freezing from the night’s breezes.

“need you to moisturise . .” you mumble, padding over to him before plopping yourself down in front of him. he welcomes you with open arms, wanting to just have you in his embrace for a little while and you fall right into his sweet talking trap. you like it, though, the sweet nothings he tells you as he easily adjusts your body against his larger one, not caring one bit that the shower droplets wet his uniform.

“c’mon, turn your back toward me,” you murmur a soft okay, sucking in a breath when he peels away the towel from your skin. you sigh softly when you feel his nose along your neck, taking in your fresh scent of strawberry shampoo and body wash while his hands massage your shoulders, down to your shoulder blades and to your sides where you jump from the ticklish sensation.

you burn when satoru laughs against your skin, “relaax, sweetheart.”

you’re unaware but gojo tries his best to untangle the knots you’ve developed over the years from endless training and brutal missions, hands working magic on your lower back now as his thumbs continually move over the base of your spine.

“you’re so tight, here.”

“a-ah . . don’t say that, satoru,” you’re anything but innocent, but it is a little upfront the way your boyfriend never fails to talk dirty in entirely mundane situations. while you’re used to it, your body still tenses from the lewdness and suddenness of it; you’re at a loss for words and you melt in gojo’s arms.

“why?” he presses his front into your back, mouth going back to your neck to try to distract you from the actual thing he’s supposed to be doing. with each kiss along your jaw, he can only feel himself get harder. “it’s cute seeing you so shy like this.”

“satoru.” it comes out shaky, “the moisturiser.”

“okay, okay,” he laughs, using his hand to turn your cheek for a small kiss, humming into it, “i’ll get to it, mama.”

the both of you are only trying to play the part — you, the clueless one receiving a moisturising job at the places you can’t reach on your back. gojo, the ever-loving boyfriend who drops everything to help you. he giggles again when you yelp at the coldness of the liquid before he starts to spread it; he does his job dutifully, at least, rubbing it into the far ends of your shoulders right to the centre where you struggle. like earlier, he takes pride in his larger hands, rubbing and squeezing at your back as he massages the moisturiser in.

“anything else you need me to help ya with?” the voice behind you surprises you again, arms now gliding along your sides to wrap around you, “maybe . .”

“are you really gonna make me say it—”

gojo giggles into your hair, an innocent action if it wasn’t for the hard-on pressed into your lower back, “it’s only fair i would want my shy baby say what she really wants, it’s always a treat.”

“i’d— uhm,” words sometimes have a hard time leaving your mouth, but even so, the way you tenderly turn around and push him to the sofa all have a scared edge to it. being with gojo made you open up more, but you don’t think your shy disposition has any problems. plus, your boyfriend finds it cute.

your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling away the belt and zipping it down, before you’re palming his bulge softly. he hums at the relief, his encouraging hands all gentle on your arms while you remove his underwear slowly. gojo looks like you’re the most beautiful as you climb on him, freshly showered and back full of sweet-smelling moisturiser, and plop yourself onto his lap. your pussy’s already fairly dripping, small moans leaving both your mouths when your cunt meets with the underside of his cock.

“at least take me out to dinner first,” satoru jokes and laughs even harder when he sees the pout on your face, “c’mere, you.”

before you know it, your hips are already grinding down on his front while he crashes his lips into yours. while his hands are placed on your ass, kneading it and helping you, yours are simultaneously removing his jujutsu uniform, fingers in perfect muscle memory from the many, many times you found yourself making out after gruelling missions. you have to pull away against your will when his hands leave your ass, doing the work yourself as he removes the uniform one arm hole at a time.

“i’ve only rubbed your back and you’re already soaking,” he whispers against your lips once he’s unclothed, lips chasing yours as you only press yourself deeper into him.

“and you’re already hard,” his eyes express pure glee at your words, letting you grind your cunt into his now dripping shaft. you can feel him twitch at the way your folds fit nicely along him, hands periodically squeezing your waist when you move your hips back and forth.

gojo has the luxury of sucking on your neck when your head tilts back at the tantalising feeling, clit bumping against his cock in all kinds of friction while you hump him, fingers losing themselves in his stark white hair that you love so much. tugging and pulling on it, there’s a plethora of sensations that only heighten the lewd situation; your nipples rubbing against his chest, his fingers stealthily playing with your hole, his teeth marking your skin.

“’toru—” you moan into open air, body arching into his hold as he hums in response, bringing your mouth back to him for a rough kiss. you can feel his fingers enter you gently while he swallows your sounds, his own hips also chasing ecstasy against your needy clit. “s’good . .”

one arm tight around your waist and the other pumping his fingers in you, you’re overwhelmed when he starts curling them in your cunt, making you whine out at the spot he’s found. everything about gojo drives you crazy, and it’s clear you do the same to him from the way his length twitches again under you.

“you’re so tight, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, eyes struggling to stay open from the way you grind against him and push your ass against his digits. you’d expect a smart comment about him saying the exact same thing as earlier but he’s too lost in pleasure to give a shit, “can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

you whimper at the blatant filthiness of his words, pulling away and hiding your burning face in his neck while he only chuckles softly, cut off by a grunt when you clench around him.

“need you to cum, princess,” his fingers reach deeper than any of yours, spreading you and getting you ready for his dick. your hips are working overtime, grinding the most that you can to feel something, anything against your bundle of nerves. paired with the grunts of satoru in your ear and the slickness of your pussy, you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax until— 

“f-fuck . . shit,” gojo’s eyes are squeezed tight when you continue to hump the underside of his shaft while he spills all over himself, fingers faltering while he continues to cum all over himself just from your grinding, a breathless laugh escaping him when all your face held was surprise, “this is what you do t’me.”

the twitch of his cock sends you hurling over the edge as you cum over him as well, thighs closing around him and the grip on his shoulders only strengthens while your cum drips down his fingers  — the declaration of the strongest sorcerer being weak only for you was something you didn’t take lightly, and yet you’re in wonder everyday how it came to be. you let out a surprised shriek when he carries you swiftly, a small question of sofa or bedroom? posed to you before you silently point to the room.

it’s all loving laughter about the abandoned towel, or him walking with his trousers halfway down his legs as he princess carries you there, messy kisses shared before you’re both plopped down and your face is smushed into the pillows (“don’t wanna mess up my moisturising job, now, do we?”).

“fuuck yeah . .” gojo groans once he slips into you, hands holding onto your hips as he eases his cock inch by inch and you’re left to softly moan at the stretch. your hands scramble for sheets and pillows, already clamping down on his shaft like a vice and he hisses. “tryna snap my dick off?”

you giggle as you turn your head so you can at least see him, a drunk smile on your face as you take in your boyfriend: chest glistening from sweat and his usual unkempt hair looking even messier and his mouth dropped open at the feel of your wet pussy.

slowly, his hips set a pace once he’s bottomed out in you, thumbs digging into your lower back and having the opposite effect of his massage from earlier; it’s bound to leave some bruises, but the drag of your cunt along his cock is just too hypnotising. he grinds himself into you, tip just about brushing your g-spot so easily.

“pretty, pretty girl . .” satoru mumbles, eyes trained on you, he admires your silent noises and limp body rocking against the bedsheets before his eyes fall on your centre, a clear sheen of slick along your folds that shines under the moonlight, “with the prettiest cunt.”

the words, as grossly filthy as they are, warms your cheeks as he continues to speed up, hips driving into you so violently you wouldn’t think he loves so softly. his hands span your lower back, triggering your arch and accentuating your ass, mesmerised with how it jiggles each time his hips meet them. but one look back to you and he’s already saying moisturising job be damned because of the lovely curvature of your lips as they fall open in pleasure together with the rolling back of your eyes.

your boyfriend leans against your back, one elbow supporting his body while he just has to litter your nape with kisses as he continues to rail you. you’re blessed with his incoherent words, only making you wetter and more pliant for him. your hips start to move back against him, too, and your hands try your best at cradling his face.

“s’good, s’full, ’toru,” you mumble, eyes barely keeping open as his fat cock stretches you and sends you reeling with each brush of his tip along your spots, “love it s’much, love you.”

he coos at his baby, body flush against yours while he muffles you with his love and lust. and while satoru has stamina, your lower back begins to hurt and he lets you lower yourself down to the bed, grinning at the feel of the sheets that smell like him.

“you feelin’ better?” he smooths his fingers along your back, and he knows you nod without even looking at him because he just knows you that well, “well, good, ’cause—”

gojo re-enters you with one hand spreading you and the other guiding his cock into you, the position only emphasising your thighs and your ass and the squeeze of his length is too good. he pulls your cheeks apart just to look at how you take him, pussy spread to accommodate him.

“’cause you feel too damn good for me not to be in ya for even a sec.” he grunts as he pushes in and you only suck in a breath at it, wiggling your butt back into his for him to start moving. his eyes fixate on your tight cunt, lost in a trance as he starts up a moderate speed, but he makes sure to thrust all up into you.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he mumbles out, groaning when you push your butt high enough for your hand to slip in. he can feel you rubbing your clit, eyes fluttering close from the overstimulating sensation that all that falls from your lips are satoru, satoru, satoru.

“just like that, that’s it, mama,” gojo watches your expression, hips stuttering at having witnessed your beauty in such a lewd place, “wan’ me to cum in you? hm?”

you unconsciously nod, more whines falling from your lips and babbles that just shows him how fucked out you are. “i’ll need my princess to cum first, though . .” and he takes over just like that: one hand next to your face and the other swatting your hand to replace the messy circles you’ve been rubbing into your puffy clit.

“want to feel her — fuckin’ hell — clench around me, want her to cum all over my cock,” he speaks through gritted teeth, slapping your pussy briefly and you cry out in pleasure, “can you do that, sweetness?”

your eyes scrunch in euphoria, “yes, yes, satoru—” every breath you take is a struggle and every word you speak is slurred, grasping onto his wrist for an anchor and try to angle your head, “w’nna cum, i’m gonna cum, baby—”

“’toru—!” you see white before you can feel it, tearing just a bit at the intense feeling and hiding as much as you can behind his wrist as his other hand increases his speed on your clit. it happens all too fast; the slap of his pelvis against yours and the clear, audible sound of your pussy dripping and the precise thrusts in how he rams into you.

“that’s it, there we gooo . .” gojo coos when you cum silently, little pants and mewls leaving your mouth as your body convulses around him. your cunt’s gripping onto his cock so harshly he has trouble moving but it’s fine considering the way he gets to see you come undone by his doing. you’re gushing all over him, a small squeal leaving you when he pinches your clit playfully.

he slows a little just to let you ride out your orgasm, clear in the way you continue to grind back against him but soon he’s picking it up again and you’re left to hold tight onto his arm as he uses your body to reach his high. your gummy walls were just too warm and gripping onto him so well, and when you’re holding so gently onto his arm, filling you up is all he can think about.

“gonna c—” a loud groan sounds out from satoru when his thrusts are interrupted by his orgasm; all it took was one involuntary clench from you to get him to empty himself in you, sensitive tip spurting ropes and ropes of cum deep into you as he paints your insides white, “take it. take it deep in ya, mama.”

you moan softly at the obscene words and later, at the obscene noises of how he pulls himself out of you and you can hear your mixed juices coalesce and drip onto the sheets below you. although, before satoru can make a funny joke or kiss you, you’re knocked out cold on the bed sheets.

“passing out on me?” is all is says with a laugh, turning you over and gives you a spare pillow to cuddle before he leaves you with a forehead kiss and a promise to clean you up just like you deserve.

#ohimsummer #asks #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru smut #gojou x reader #gojou smut #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojō x reader

[tlou-reid]

!smut, mdni!

thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.

and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.

so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.

and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case

that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.

time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.

“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.

“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.

he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”

he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.

her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”

her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.

his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.

this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.

her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.

and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.

he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.

#thought about this in the shower and just needed to get the idea out there #sorry i’ve been gone schools kicking my ass #be back soon #spencer imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds blurb #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[ryuluvr]

needy. (wlw, smut)

warnings: softdom!ryu, sub!reader, mommy kink, thigh riding, praise, slight begging, orgasm permission.

summary: reader is horny as hell but is shy when it comes to asking ryujin to help them out. (requested, tysm!!)

word count: 1000

( not proof read, ends as quick as it starts tbh, just wanted to get something out after such a long break! )

you adjusted yourself on the edge of your double bed, crossing one leg over the other as your eyes settled on ryujin across the room. she was gaming at a desk, the game irrelevant to you in this moment. this woman looked good, too good. and no matter how hard you fought it, all you could think about was her touching you, her slender fingers exploring every inch of your soft skin. you left the room more times than you could count to try and occupy yourself and distract your dirty mind, but of course it was no use. you needed her, desperately, but asking for that felt beyond embarrassing for someone as shy as you.

a deep sigh escaped your lips once you reached the living room, throwing yourself down on the nearest couch and immediately zoning out. cleaning wont help, listening to music wont help, nothing you try will take fucking ryujin out of your head.

“hey, you okay?” immediately you snap back to reality, ryujin chuckling at the sight of you just sitting there in silence. in a poor attempt to clear your mind you shake your head and smile up at her sweetly. you didnt even hear her walk to you.

“i’m good, sorry!”

“you look like you got a lot on your mind… stressed, baby?”

“no- nothing like that, dont worry.”

ryujin quickly makes herself comfortable beside you on the couch, her eyes scanning every inch of your face which immediately made you feel hot. her hand reaches for your thigh and she gives it a light squeeze, frowning at your silence.

“talk to me, baby. what’s wrong?” her eyes were practically burning into your skin and it was unbearable. as you glanced in the opposite direction, your cheeks flushed a deep pink shade, embarrassment completely taking over you. as much as you didnt want to admit it, you thought maybe its time. she was not going to let you leave until you told her.

to your surprise, ryujin took your chin gently between her thumb and finger, turning your head to face her. “baby.” she spoke once more, this time much lower, her voice barely audible. something had switched up inside her and it was obvious to you.

“i just… i dont know… i just keep thinking about you.” you matched the other woman’s tone, soon biting down on your bottom lip due to the nerves.

ryujin understood within seconds. she always does. “you want me, pretty?” she began, “want some attention?”

her voice was enough to make you go weak, nodding without giving it a single thought. she quietly asked you to stand up before pulling off your panties and letting your skirt fall to the floor shortly after. ryujin lightly tapped her thigh with the hand previously holding your face. you wasted no time, immediately positioning yourself on her thigh and letting her soft lips teasingly brush against your neck. you grip onto her shoulders to keep yourself up as a slight whimper escapes you. ryujin started by trailing multiple kisses across your neck and up to your jawline, her hands rubbing your back lightly from under your top.

you were still, yet could still feel how wet you were against her thigh. ryujin was wearing shorts, so the skin on skin feeling was driving you beyond crazy. her lips claimed yours in a desperate kiss, eventually disconnecting when she slipped your top off and over your head, her fingers immediately working at your bra to remove that too. a gasp left your lips when you felt ryujins tongue trace along your nipples, flicking them enough to make you whine loudly.

“ryu, please…” you could barely think, and your cheeks showed no sign of cooling down. she paused to press a gentle kiss to your lips instead, her right hand brushing your hair out of your face. it was little things like that which made you melt.

ryujin’s hands gripped onto your hips and began guiding you on her thigh causing a soft moan to escape you. you continued grinding against her and your clit was throbbing more with every passing second. you dragged your soaked folds against ryujin’s skin, your nails practically digging into her shoulders to keep yourself upright.

“does it feel good, baby?” ryujin asked, her warm breath tickling your ear, “you like getting off on mommy’s thigh, hm?”

your entire body shuddered at her words, your pace quickening as you desperately tried to chase an orgasm.

“ah- i do!” a series of moans and whimpers filled the room as you continued grinding against ryujin’s thigh, one hand running up to squeeze your breast. “mommy, ‘m so close.. fuck, it feels so good..”

a devilish smirk appeared across ryujin’s face as she tensed her thigh, sending immense waves of pleasure to your needy cunt. her grip on your soft hips tightened as she kept planting sloppy kisses to your lips and neck.

“have i told you that you can come baby?” ryujin asked, her tone even lower than before. your head dropped as your body twitched over her, needing to stop yourself before you came without her permission. you didn’t care if it was embarrassing, you needed release.

“please ryu- fuck, please mommy! please can i cum? i need it!” you begged, pathetically whining into the crook of her neck. she waited a few moments as if to torture you before quietly agreeing. “cum for me, angel, let it out.”

your hips didn’t hesitate to pick up the pace once more, only taking a matter of seconds to reach your climax. your pornographic moans and loud squeals filled the room as you made a mess all over ryujin’s thigh, desperately rubbing your overly sensitive clit against her soft skin until you felt your whole body go limp on top of her.

ryujin instantly wrapped her arms around your waist and held you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek as you came down from such a high.

“feel better, baby?” she whispered before pulling you further onto her lap, your cheeks flushing a deep pink shade. you nodded as if to say yes and cuddled up to the other woman, smiling through the gentle kiss you pressed against her lips.

#shin ryujin smut #ryujin smut #itzy smut #girl group smut fxf #girl group smut #itzy imagines #ryujin itzy #itzy fanfic #ryujin fanfic #wlw nfst #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #fxf smut #kpop smut #smut #itzy ryujin

[hayisins]

# — oral ! 🕊️

how : alhaitham, wriothesley, cyno, diluc, + zhongli give head !

disclaimers : afab!reader + no specific pronouns. mentions of a skirt in cyno’s ! zhongli has dragon features ! mndi ! 18+ ONLY ! 🍓

#001 — ALHAITHAM !

his hands are gentle and delicate. like a wild animal he stares at its prey. alhaitham is fixed between your knees, watching your body as if it was some kind of experiment.

finally he stops staring, leaning right in close to your heat. again he stares but this time it’s not a careful study, no, he’s letting his mind run rampant with impure desires.

your grinding hips and needy whines fall upon deaf ears. alhaitham is not listening. slowly his tongue pokes out, gently using the tip of it to graze your clit. the gesture is so gentle it makes you shiver. he takes his time, slowly and calculated he devours you whole. ♡

— “i will take my time with you . . . just be patient, okay ?”

#002 — WRIOTHESLEY !

the duke is rough. every action he has is always full of greed. he can’t take his time, it might kill him if he does. so it’s no surprise he has you pressed against the closest wall.

it’s absolutely no surprise that inbetween ravenous kisses and clashing teeth, wriothesleys hands would be tugging your bottoms down past your knees. at this rate he didn’t care who saw you like this.

he will kiss his way down, leaving a plethora of bite marks and hickeys along the way. now you’re able to look down and see your adoring partner eagerly spreading your thighs and sucking happily on your clit, shooting you a cheeky wink in the process. ♡

— “i don’t care who sees, i want to see you break darling.”

#003 — CYNO !

it’s always the quiet ones you gotta look out for. the general mahamatra was more than skilled in keeping such a calm composure even when in a situation just like the one you’ve put him in.

you’re in the tavern, happily drinking and feasting with friends !! however no one knows that cyno’s hand has slowly creeped its way up the incredibly small skirt you decided to wear. for five minutes now his hand was rubbing lazy little circles when you needed him the most.

if there was one thing cyno was incredible at ? it’s eating you out into next week. the mahamatra was not only skilled in combat but also with his tongue. one by one more people started to leave. a perfect enough distraction for a very hard cyno to drag you to the restaurants bathroom to reward your patience. ♡

— “you did so well waiting for me . . . you’ll be compensated cumpletely . . get it because — sorry.”

#004 — DILUC !

he melts. it’s as if a lifetime of stress slides right off his shoulders when he’s in your presence. he takes his time, kissing from your lips right down to your inner thighs. fiery red eyes never leave your expression.

diluc is rather quiet during sex — unless he’s eating you out. diluc truly gets into what he’s doing to you. he prefers to do it in the morning the best.

occasionally he wakes you up by gently kissing your thighs all the way to the softness that is your folds. his eyes hood and his mind swims in an endless sea of lust as he slowly wakes you up with his gentle kitten licking. ♡

— “good morning firefly . . . allow me to finish here and then we’ll get breakfast, yes?”

#005 — ZHONGLI !

for a centuries old retired god zhongli is rather clueless in his ministrations. every way he touches you is like learning to read for the first time. gold eyes carefully watch and observe each and every gasp, whine, bite of the lip — you name it. he was watching.

the way you call out to him does a number on the god complex he tries so hard to deny. thanks to zhongli being an ancient dragon he also had a stunning tongue.

so here he has you in a field of glaze lilys, marking your body in light possessive geo markings you gasp at the all too familiar feeling of zhongli’s forked tongue working to gently flick against both sides of your clit. a satisfied hum leaves his mouth the more you scream and beg for release.

— “your body . . it belongs to me. your god. are we clear little lamb?”

#genshin impact #alhaitham #wriothesley #cyno #diluc #zhongli #alhaitham smut #wriothesley smut #cyno smut #diluc smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x you #genshin alhaitham #genshin wriothesley #genshin cyno #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli

[staytheword]

on my mind

on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]

• han jisung x female reader.

• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.

• word count: 8.6k

You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.

• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡

You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips. 

You can’t do this anymore. 

You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.

Or you’re going to try. 

It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.

“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty. 

Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?” 

At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this. 

You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him. 

Almost. 

You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones. 

But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies. 

We get through this together, you said.

Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours. 

Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.” 

“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.” 

With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt. 

You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly. 

You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly. 

“Shit, what time is it?” 

It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?” 

“R-right. Yeah. Okay.” 

You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot. 

“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen. 

He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue. 

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island. 

There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television. 

Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl. 

“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.” 

Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”

“Yes, please.” 

He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh. 

A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours? 

You should study again after this.

Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.

You’re wasting valuable time. 

You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands. 

When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance. 

“Thanks.” 

You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that. 

Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back. 

“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.” 

You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed. 

“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.” 

“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…” 

“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.” 

You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch. 

“Sit down, please.” 

His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest. 

“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?” 

You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing. 

“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.” 

He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.” 

“What do you suggest, then?” 

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch. 

“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.” 

When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues. 

“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.” 

That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.” 

“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.” 

You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night. 

“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?” 

You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.” 

Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm. 

“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.” 

“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head. 

You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you. 

“You want to join?” 

Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it. 

Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie. 

The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other. 

“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”

“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”

He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand. 

“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.” 

“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.” 

“Sounds good.” 

You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s. 

At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head. 

“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs. 

You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.” 

“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…” 

He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?” 

“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.” 

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously. 

You could swear he is blushing. 

“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.” 

“I like the idea,” you smile. 

Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh. 

“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.” 

Jisung arches an eyebrow. 

“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.” 

“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”

“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.” 

“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.” 

“She was a bitch,” you point out. 

Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.” 

“That’s not exactly true.” 

“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?” 

You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.” 

You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.” 

“How can you not be a massage person?!” 

You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause. 

“Ji, this isn’t working.” 

He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…” 

“We need something more drastic.” 

He gives you a little nod, and you squint. 

“What was the idea you had earlier?” 

His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?” 

“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.” 

And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.” 

You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.” 

He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest. 

Jisung breathes deeply. 

“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…” 

“Yes?” you encourage him. 

“I jerk off.” 

You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense. 

“Oh,” you breathe out.

“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -” 

“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass. 

You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?

Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?” 

“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.” 

He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment. 

“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously. 

He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even. 

“I mean, if you want some time alone…” 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?” 

You nod. “Yeah, why?” 

“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.” 

It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly. 

“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice. 

“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.” 

There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking. 

Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?” 

Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes. 

“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds. 

You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now. 

“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

Jisung looks at you. “R-really?” 

“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.” 

You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.

“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…” 

“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead. 

You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. 

“Just say it,” he sighs. 

“I heard you that time.” 

Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking. 

“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -” 

“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…” 

“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.” 

Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?” 

“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.” 

Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.” 

“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?” 

“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.” 

You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage. 

Jisung is observing his nails very carefully. 

“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.

Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness. 

“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.

For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard. 

“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.

“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure,” Jisung breathes. 

It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen. 

“What?” 

“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.

“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.” 

“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…” 

“Ugh, tell me about it.” 

You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably. 

A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh. 

“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says. 

You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.” 

Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy. 

“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.” 

“O-okay.” 

Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch  next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju. 

It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other. 

Oh, God. 

Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.

Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God. 

On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another. 

You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet. 

As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes. 

He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.

You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply. 

“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.

“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment. 

Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.” 

You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction. 

But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing. 

The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure. 

“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.” 

“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.” 

“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.” 

Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed. 

Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god! 

You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move. 

You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears. 

“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.” 

You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.” 

Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.” 

“S-sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.

“Ji, do you… do you want some help?” 

The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.

Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?” 

You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.” 

He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.”  He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…” 

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.” 

“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…” 

You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself. 

“H-here.” 

He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair. 

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.

Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric. 

“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music. 

Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.

“Is that okay?” you ask him softly. 

“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…” 

The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm. 

“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!” 

“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.” 

It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips. 

“Y-you sure?” 

You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls. 

“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…” 

“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.

You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently. 

“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -” 

He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully. 

When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray. 

This is a sight you’ll never forget. 

A taste you’ll never forget. 

You feel something tighten in your chest. 

You’ve fallen so hard for him. 

“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you. 

His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy. 

“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you. 

He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth. 

“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.” 

Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh. 

The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin. 

“Jisung…” 

“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.

When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him. 

“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”

He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning. 

You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.

Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…” 

The nickname alone almost ends you.

He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says. 

The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?” 

You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt. 

“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear. 

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away. 

“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained. 

He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him. 

You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.

“Y/N…” 

Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy. 

“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.” 

“Y/N, wait -” 

You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.

You smile. 

You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you. 

Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to. 

When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear. 

“Y/N, please, listen -” 

You don’t think. You just kiss him. 

Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock. 

“What are you -” 

“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.” 

It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again. 

You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.” 

You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth. 

“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.” 

“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”

“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.” 

You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again. 

“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.” 

You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.

It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.

You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.

He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.  

“Fuck, those tits…” 

You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.

“Ji, please…” 

His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours. 

Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have. 

Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you. 

“Can I - I mean - You sure?” 

“Yes,” you nod. 

You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.” 

“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.” 

You smile, pulling him into a kiss. 

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear. 

He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together. 

You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure. 

“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…” 

“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…” 

You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic. 

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…” 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…” 

He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.” 

“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.” 

With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws. 

“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”

“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.

“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.” 

“Jisung.” 

You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes. 

“Will you kiss me?” 

Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.

Some time later, you smile. 

You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.

“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him. 

You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.” 

“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.” 

“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.” 

“Me too, Ji. Me too.” 

I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡

taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry

#han jisung smut #jisung smut #han smut #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader #han jisung x female reader #han x reader #han x female reader #han x y/n #han x you #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #skz x reader #skz x female reader #skz x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #han jisung imagines

[barbiiecams]

sugardaddy!rafe who’s also older than you omg… you’re around 20-21 while he’s 30. it’s not bad, but it’s definitely not something people saw coming. some people thought it was wrong with what was going on, others actually envied you. but none of that ever mattered. you’ve made him the happiest he’s been in a while and vice versa. everything is so perfect for you, because that’s the only thing rafe wants (and it keeps you happy of course.)

being the girl you are, you have a big thing for keeping in touch with the latest clothing. and when you set your eyes on that cartier love bracelet… best believe it was gonna be yours.

you gasped at the beautiful sight on your screen. just happening to be laid back on the couch, in your favorite robe, that was covering your lace lingerie, doing some online shopping, it came up on your screen.

falling in love weren’t even the words for how you felt. rafe was in his office doing whatever boring work he always does. he told you not to distract him too much, but this was a bracelet you HAD to have. so, you got up to go see if he was all that busy.

making your way with the macbook in your hands, you already can hear him yell at someone over the phone from down the hall.

“are you fucking dumb? i said you will pay me by TONIGHT. or you know what the consequences will be.” it seemed like his voice was getting louder each word.

“you’re not listening, man. i don’t give a shit if-” at this point, you’ve actually made it to the door. he’s pacing and fuming around the room, then he spots you. he holds up a finger, mouthing you to wait a minute. but this bracelet? couldn’t wait at all.

“it’s important!” you whisper-yell. he ignores you, and that makes you even more impatient. he still continues to pace, getting angrier at whatever’s being said on the other side of the phone.

knocking on the door to grab his attention again, he takes a deep breath. “if you don’t get that shit sent by 12 am, that’s your ass tomorrow morning.” rafe says in a lower tone, but still very stern voice. you felt bad to whoever he threatened. there’s never been a single time rafe hasn’t done what he said he’s going to do when it comes to hurting people.

he hangs up immediately after and motions for you to walk in as he sits back down. “you know i’m busy baby, what is it?”

you needed to butter him up a bit, simply because you could still see the smoke coming out from his ears. “are you okay, honey? i can tell youre still pretty upset.”

discreetly trying to set the macbook down with it angled as if it meant nothing, you then walked to the back of his chair where he sat and started rubbing his shoulders. of course, he relaxed at your touch.

“don’t worry about it babe. just stress work.” he sighs. you leaned down to kiss on his neck. his eyes are shut as he loves all this affection, but he chuckles.

“someone must want something.” he says.

“i can’t just love on my man?” you faked innocent.

“oh you do that enough, but i see the macbook you brought with you.” he responds. you gave him one last kiss.

“it’s just a little something i saw.”

“oh yea? how little is it?”

you reached over to pick up the laptop. opening it so he can fully see the screen, the gorgeous 18k gold band with diamonds all over it popped up.

“that’s real gorgeous baby.” his eyebrows raised.

“i know! wouldn’t it look so perfect on me?” you suggested.

“it would,” he started to pat his clothing for his wallet, “what will i get out of this though?” he teases.

“well, just imagine how much better my hands will look when i hold onto you, and how well it will look up close when i give you a blowie.” you reply seductively. for a second, it looks like he’s really trying to imagine it.

by now, you know he feels his wallet. but he likes to play with you at times. “i don’t know if you need it,”

“pleaseee rafey! i really do! haven’t got a new bracelet in soo long.” you started to beg.

“58,000 for this? shit i could buy you a new purse with that.” he chuckles again. he could buy you purses worth a lot more than that but you know, who’s keeping track?

you took a seat on his lap and straddled him. “please? i’ll be such good girl. y’can use me however, whenever. doesn’t matter what you want. i would just love to have this bracelet though.” he was a fool for your doe eyes, so that was the weapon you were trying to use.

he just smirked in your face. the both of you knew he liked to hear you beg. “i don’t know..” he says which makes you internally flip out.

you threw your face in the crook of his neck and made it sound like you were getting emotional. “please rafe!! it’s so pretty.”

he lets out a laugh then starts stroking your back and swaying a little. “i’m just joking baby, of course you can have it.” that’s all you needed to hear to perk up again, and give him the deepest smooch.

“thank you, handsome.”

“you’re welcome, spoiled.” he says before slapping one of your cheeks. “gonna buy it right now, but i got some more work to do so i’ll be with you in a minute. want you stripped down with legs open, yea?”

whatever rafe says, most definitely goes. “yes, daddy.”

#omg #i usually don’t even use the word daddy but it felt right 😭 #barbiiecams #drew starkey #rafe cameron #sugardaddy!rafe #outer banks #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey fic #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey headcannon #drew starkey angst #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #sugardaddy!rafe cameron

[salvatwh0re]

I have officially mastered the void

So this morning (afternoon actually) i decided to tap into the void so I did the 61 points yoga nidra meditation with a subliminal. I didn’t really need the subliminal I was just using it cause my headphones are somewhat noise cancelling and my family was awake so I didn’t want to get distracted. But the meditation was really relaxing. At first I had some trouble staying focused but then I reminded myself why I was doing this and what I was doing it for. So it kept me motivated. After that i affirmed a little bit then I counted down from 100 and then I affirmed some more then I got bored of affirming so i started visualizing and then I got bored of that so I just decided to focus on the darkness behind my eyelids.

I never really took that advice from people when they said it helped cause I didn’t believe them but it actually worked. Out of everything else I did that was the one thing that sent me straight to the void. I think for the most part it was just letting go of that desperate feeling i always have when I try to enter. I always feel like I’m forcing myself to do it so I just let go and kind of forgot about what I was doing while still keeping that intention.

I was getting pretty anxious tho because of the time so I just got out but i did it again and it sent me straight to the void again. So now I know the secret to getting into the void is to just let go of that desperation and to stop forcing yourself, just let it happen. If you feel you’ve affirmed enough stop affirming, if you feel you’ve focused on your breathing enough, go back to your automatic breathing pattern STOP FORCING YOURSELF IT WILL GET YOU NOWHERE!!

and I know a lot of people stress about not being aware in the void and not affirming for your desires but stressing over that is exactly what’s going to make you forget tbh. When you let go of that desperation you let go of those other doubts too, those things that were stopping you from getting there in the first place. I feel like removing yourself from those thoughts is really effective in getting you what you want.

I will say it might help to have a list of things you want either written down or set in your mind because it will be a lot easier to remember what you’re going to affirm. When you’re in the void or even before you tap in completely you’re supposed to be super relaxed so it might be a little difficult to bring up those thoughts but because of how different the void is from the 3D it’s kind of hard to forget. Especially if you’ve been trying for a long time.

The void isn’t really something you question, you know for sure you’re in cause you can’t hear feel see taste or smell anything so it’s pretty identifiable. And because you’ve reminded yourself over and over that that’s what the void feels like, once you feel it you’re going to be like OHHH ok now i know to affirm for my desires. You’ve been training your brain to associate the void with your desires so of course once you recognize that you’re in you’re going to remember to affirm for your desires.

Also I don’t really like using the term void personally, but it’s what I learned it as. I feel like calling it the void just makes it sound so otherworldly and extraterrestrial and scary tbh. I think that’s what was holding me back as well, fear. I know that Neville Goddard refers to it as the I AM state which is a perfect name for it because it really is a state of just BEING like you’re not worried about anything else other than yourself and that’s the beauty of it. I would go on more cause there’s so much I can say but overall i hope you just let you go of that desperation so that you can finally push through and get everything you’ve been wanting because you deserve it.

#void state #void success #the void state #loassumption

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS

+ MOODBOARD IMAGINES

SET. : in between chapter 3 and chapter 4

LENGTH : 3.4k

A/N : do you darlings remember this (↓) moodboard? well, i thought it would be a good idea to write the scenarios i featured in it just cause... hehe~ (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope you darlings enjoy the read!

On his break, Sirius has a routine, one that involves lighting a cigarette. Usually he would have the decency to step outside but his schedule was stressful for the day and all he really wanted to do was just sit by an open window, slumped into a chair smoking his cigarette until there was nothing left to smoke. Thankfully the rest of the work day wasn’t going to be as packed so he could finally start taking it easy. 

Grey eyes drifting over to the clock on the wall, Sirius hums thoughtfully. Almost lunch time. He’ll need to cut his smoke break short if he wants to have enough time for a decent lunch. It’s another ritualistic practice for him to not pack anything for lunch; he was a horrible cook and usually prioritises sleeping in over eating breakfast and preparing a lunch, it’s the same for James and Remus too. Thankfully there’s a pretty good fish and chip shop down the street. Or maybe he could get a medium pizza for himself at the pizza local place? Maybe get a large pizza for the whole group? 

Propping his ankle up onto his opposite knee, Sirius drags a slow breath in and waits a moment before releasing the smoke. He tries to aim the fumes out the window as much as possible but the air is a fickle thing and stubbornly lingered around him. Nevertheless, he takes the time to admire the swirling fumes, artistic and free to take any form they so pleased. It was one of the small pleasures in smoking that he could bask in. 

“Siri–!” Sirius promptly snaps out of his daze with your call and the opening of the break room door. One step into the room and you were already having a coughing fit. Hurrying to stand, Sirius smothers his cigarette in an ashtray and reaches for a nearby folder of generic designs to fan the smoke out of the open window. 

“You okay there, sweets?” he calls, brows furrowed into a concerned crease as he watches your struggle for air slowly calm. 

“I-I’m okay,” another slight cough slips past your lips despite the assurance, “sorry for disturbing you,” as most of the smoke escapes the room, pliant to Sirius’ frenetic fanning, you manage a small smile that he shyly returns, ashamed of his inconsiderate actions. Though he truly didn’t anticipate you returning to the shop. His shame doesn’t linger for long, however as he keeps the window open and makes his way over with open arms, pulling you into an embrace. 

“What a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here, Doll?” he looks down at you, admiring your sweet face as it scrunches up in slight distaste and his heart drops. What’s upset his sweetheart? 

“Y-you smell like cigarettes…” you utter without a single thought and immediately clasp your hands over your mouth, muffling a gasp of realisation. That was so rude!

“Shit–”

“I-I’m so sorry, Sirius. I didn’t mean to be ru–” but your apology was cut short when the tattoo artist steps away and begins pulling his shirt over his head and hurries about the room, looking for something.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he gives up on his search and turns to you with a bashful smile, his toned torso and idiosyncratic tattoos on full display. Your mind goes completely blank as you admire the chiselled contours of his muscles and the beautiful tattoos that decorate his skin.

“U-uhh…” 

“I guess I’ll have to ask James if he has a spare shirt or something…” muttering to himself, Sirius looks up and finally catches your eye, immediately noticing your admiring gaze. Naturally, a devilish smirk tugs at his lips, “or not~”

He has the face of an angel and the body of a jock with the eyes and lips of a demon. 

Over time, you’ve come to visit the boys at their parlour more often and the guilt of distracting them from their work has chewed away at you. They were always quick to say that they adore having you around the parlour so your discouragement quickly dissipates. Nevertheless, you wanted to do good by them and started going on snack duties, not only to provide refreshments for them but also for their clients. 

As a group and as a business, they agreed it would be a good investment to provide complimentary food and drink for their clients and themselves; getting tattoos was just as exhausting as giving them, especially for the big order clients. Therefore each room was fitted with a mini fridge and basket to host an array of snacks and beverages for anyone to have as they pleased. 

The accumulated bill cost a pretty penny but one that the boys were willing to pay, they even managed to strike a deal with the vegan specialty store across the street to provide their best snacks for customers as a form of free advertising. It warmed your heart but it didn’t come close to the butterflies you felt when you found that the boys were first attracted to the shop for their regular donations to a local dog shelter. 

You just came back from your trip over to help restock the fridges and snack baskets in each room. Remus was manning the front desk and handling clients and prospective customers. There was a stack of paperwork piled up next to him so he could multitask and stay preoccupied when there was a lull in business. 

Meanwhile, Sirius was tending to a client and their massive back tattoo. You remember him telling you that this was just their second session and that he still had one or two more sessions left to go. You managed to slip in and out of the room without distracting him or his client too much; both were very busy, except for the emotional-support friend the client had brought along, who appreciated the restock of snacks and raided the stash even as you were restocking. The two of you giggled at that together as Sirius chuckled under his breath, shouting an appreciative ‘thank you’ while his client grumbled playfully, apologetic about their glutton of a friend. Their interaction made you giggle while slipping out the door and making your way to James' room - you don’t believe he’s with a client right now so you weren’t as anxious over potentially disturbing his flow. Though he was expecting one to arrive soon, according to his calendar. 

“Snacks restock,” you call through the door with a knock before stepping inside. 

“Thanks, angel,” James was in an all-black attire today. Black jeans, heavy leather Doc Martens and a black, compression shirt that accentuated his slim waist, broad shoulders and sculpted muscles. That along with his black latex gloves and the beautiful collage of tattoos weaving up his forearms stops you in place. It’s undeniable how attractive these men are but, as James sits in his artist chair, posture relaxed but oozing with confidence, dressed like sin with his boyish grin and adorable round glasses on, an antithesis to his dangerous attire, you stop in your tracks and stutter embarrassingly. It has to be illegal how divine he looks right now…

Using the wheels and mobility of his artist chair, James moves to sit before you as he examines the contents of your bag through the opening at the top and mutters about which ones he’s eyeing for himself. However, your stock-still, frozen figure doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s soon staring up at you. His hazel eyes shine with curiosity and thinly veiled mischief. 

“Something wrong, Angel?” the pleasant drawl of his voice draws you from your obvious daydreaming and you’re stuttering out a pathetic, incoherent answer as he chuckles quietly, “Have you fallen for me?~”

The fucking tease! 

It’s a hot summer day and Remus was sweating buckets up in the office. The heat was torturous and he silently begged for the winter cold to rush back with an icy fever, his desperation for a cool breeze evident in his dishevelled state. 

It was common for James and Sirius to go around topless in their shameless, over-confident ways but Remus was stubborn about keeping a shirt on. They had been warned about the rising heat thanks to earlier weather warnings but preparing with a breezy linen button up wasn’t enough for Remus to keep to his strict dress code. For once, you were seeing him half-naked (almost) and like you were with Sirius and James the first time they surrendered to the heat, you stood in shock as an additional heat tormented your cheeks. 

You didn’t know what to expect. 

Clearly James was the muscular one of the three, Sirius was skinny but it didn’t mean he didn’t have any muscle – his arms and abs were especially defined, his thighs too, probably from his motorcycle. Remus was tall so, as the stereotype went, you didn’t expect him to have much muscle definition. However, as he laid back in his seat, his linen shirt unbuttoned but still tucked into his trousers and draped over his broad shoulders, you’re able to observe significant definition in his chest and the ridges of washboard-abs along his torso. Your eyes almost bulge out when you see the cuts of a V leading into his crotch area.  

Remus despaired over feeling like a sweat-drenched dog, foul-smelling and unsightly with clumpy, sweaty hair when, in actuality, he couldn’t look better. Ths sweat made his skin glisten and helped keep his hair pushed back in the most attractive way. With his head slumped backward, his adam’s apple prominent, his tattoos on full display along the toned expanse of his torso, Remus looked heavenly. Especially with the sun shine pouring in from the open window and showering him in specs of gold. 

So caught up in your silent admiration, you don’t notice when Remus peeks one eye open and spots you with a soft smile. 

“You alright there, Dove?” he asks, chuckling as he sees the exact moment you were brought back to the present, “I see you’ve gotten my water for me,”

“Oh! Y-yeah,” you shyly walk up to him and hand over the chilled bottle of water from the mini fridge downstairs. 

“You really are an angel,” he accepts the bottle and kisses the knuckles of your hand in thanks before taking a thirsty gulp. His sweet action of gratitude makes you want to squeal out loud but you bite your lip, not wanting to expose yourself. It was already embarrassing enough having to be caught staring. 

It was then, however, that you took notice of a small, faded tattoo that didn’t match the gallery of inky art collaging Remus’ torso, “That tattoo looks different,” you say without thinking as you point towards the slightly faded crescent moon on Remus’ chest. 

“Oh!” Remus chuckles and caresses his inked skin gently, fondness swimming in his chocolate-pool eyes, “This one is quite special actually,”

“Really?”

He nods and launches into the story when observing the curious look in your eyes, “When the guys and I finally graduated secondary school, we all got drunk off our asses and went to a hole-in-the-wall tattoo parlour to commemorate the occasion,” you both share a laugh at their reckless but typical behaviour as teenagers, “each of us got a silly little tattoo and the next day, when we were hungover, half-naked in James’ room – James on the floor, Sirius in the bathtub of his ensuite and me leaning against his bookcase, nobody on the bed –” you both laugh again, “we all found out we got different tattoos and from that, came our nicknames,”

You brows raise in interest, “You mean–”  

“I have a moon so I’m ‘Moony’,” Remus confirms as your eyes sparkle with delight, a sight that Remus adores more than he’d ever admit aloud, “Sirius got a dog paw–”

“So that’s why you call him ‘Padfoot’, makes sense. What about James?”

“A stag head so he’s–”

“Prongs!” you cheer and giggle at finally discovering the reason behind their peculiar nicknames. It all made so much more sense now! 

“My Angel calls for me?~” James’ voice sings through the door before he’s sauntering in and opening his arms, expecting you to fall willingly into them. It was tempting, considering he was shirtless and you’d love nothing more than to be held against his muscles but today was already swelteringly hot so you politely decline, to which smug expression James’ drops into that of a pitiful puppy’s. 

It’s not a secret that the boys adore you, not only were you kind and sweet and the prettiest little thing they’ve ever laid their eyes on but you also cook like an absolute angel and they can never get enough, especially when compared to their own mediocre cooking skills. After being spoiled by you so often, they can no longer fathom eating their own inferior cuisine. They’ve expressed this to you multiple times so, whenever you could, you would cook dinner for them and you’d all eat together at their flat. It usually happened over the weekend and they always offered to pay for the ingredients needed. 

Tonight, you had something special in mind to cook for them but weren’t well stocked on ingredients so it was agreed that Sirius would pick you up on his bike when you were finished shopping at the store. You made sure to text the tattooist a predicted time for when you would be finished with your shopping, remaining faithful to your shopping list so that you didn’t keep him waiting too long out in the overcast, chilly weather. Typical England.  

Hurrying to get past self check out, you smile at the singular bag of ingredients you held in your hand, excited to spoil the boys with another night of good food. You aren’t shy in admitting how attractive Sirius was but it was unfair how sultry he looked when on his bike, wearing his all-black, leather outfit, his huge helmet and fingerless gloves. The many eyes eating him up were evidence enough of his ethereal beauty. And with his helmet on too. Perhaps it was the mystery of who he was behind the mask that these strangers fawned over him so much. You couldn’t fault them though, you would be the same in their shoes.

Having made this trip multiple times already, you recognised him and his bike in an instant.. Behind the visor of his helmet, Sirius suppresses an affectionate coo over how you visibly perk up when your eyes land on him. There was no need for sun when Sirius had your smile to light up his day. 

“You good, Doll?” Sirius’ voice comes out muffled by his helmet as he dismounts his bike and opens up the storage compartment under the seat. He exchanges the spare helmet stored in the hidden compartment for the bag of groceries in your hand, “You got everything?”  

“Yeah, thanks for waiting, Siri!”

You don’t see it but he smiles happily at the sound of your twinkling voice, “No worries, Doll,” he mounts the bike once more and takes it off it’s stand, “hop on,” 

At this point, he expected you to be able to put your helmet on by yourself but he doesn’t account for the slight delay as you make sure it’s fitted over your head properly. Unable to help himself, Sirius waits leaning forward with his hand propping his head up as his elbow rests on the body of his bike. The stance makes him look as though he was admiring you like some lovestruck, teenage boy. When you catch sight of him after finally getting your helmet on, you laugh and throw your head back with the movement but end with placing your hands on your hips - scolding his actions, almost, although it was all in good fun. His response was to blow you a kiss by, first, touching his fingers to the front of his helmet and then laying his hand flat towards you. 

You clutch at your stomach to contain the giggles as your shoulders shake before finally deciding to play along and return the gesture, imitating a flying kiss that he catches and holds to his chest. Whenever the helmet was put on, the two of you always got into the habit of exaggerating your movements seeing as your facial expressions were obscured. But that mask gives you two such confidence that you’re more comfortable with being flirtatious with each other. 

You don’t complain but it makes your heart thump with want and a desire you were too afraid to fulfil. 

“Sirius loves his bike,” Remus explains, “and James loves his car,” both men were too distracted taking maintenance of their respective vehicles to listen to Remus’ explanation of their attentiveness. It was the weekend and you had arranged to have Remus keep you accountable for completing your upcoming essay. At some point, you two join James and Sirius in the garage as they do the regular checks of their beloved ‘rides’. Their vigilant focus as they mill about the engines and operations of their car and bike were a great motivator for completing your essay and now that you’ve finished, you observe them in their element. 

Both men had their muscular, tattooed arms on full display, clad in only their tight tank tops, ones that already had stains to begin with so they didn’t mind staining more as their fingers blackened with motor residue.  

“What do you love, Remus?” you ponder, needing a distraction from the beguiling display before you but also curious. Did Remus have a secret love for a particular motor vehicle like the other two as well? You were beyond curious, although you couldn’t think of any other motor vehicle he would likely obsess over. 

“Can’t say,” the tall brunette shrugs, subtly peering down at you from his higher vantage point, “I’m pretty sure those two love it just as much as I do so it won’t count,” his answer leaves you curious but he doesn’t elaborate further. Was he talking about a motor vehicle or something else entirely?

Giggling beside Remus, you watch the exchange unfold before you with amused eyes and a warm smile hidden behind your fingers. Seeing James and/or Sirius become whiny and pouty wasn’t an everyday occurrence but it happened often enough that you were used to their shenanigans and didn’t give in as easily as you used to, especially with Remus at your side to keep the boys in check. Such as right now. If it weren’t for Remus, you’re sure James and Sirius would have continued to whine and throw a strop until their clients got impatient, left and then proceeded to write a very passionate review about the lack of service. Thankfully, the piercer shooed them away as efficiently as always, reminding the two of their responsibilities and scheduled patrons. 

“Stupid Moony,” James mutters under his breath as he walks away with Sirius, “...always getting Angel all to himself…” 

As soon as the two are out of sight, Remus takes his usual seat behind the front desk and pulls out a small paperback book to keep him occupied. With warm eyes directed at you, he smiles and asks, “would you like to join me for a good read, Dove?” as he speaks, he brings his hand down to rest on his thigh and, with your reeling mind, you mistake the gesture for an invitation that you couldn’t refuse.

Remus never expected you to look so adorable when approaching to sit with him for a read at the register but, other than that, he never expected you to sit on his thigh. You didn’t meet his eyes at first so you didn’t see his shocked state or the creeping grin tugging up the corners of his lips.  

It was embarrassing but this isn’t the first time the boys had you sit in their laps. This was just the first time you were made to sit on your own accord. You don’t think your embarrassment could get any more drastic, however, until you finally look up to see the surprised look on Remus’ face and finally realise your mistake. 

“Oh god! I’m so sorry!” 

He laughs at how adorable you are and winds his strong arm around your waist before you could even attempt to hop off his thigh. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” unable to resist, Remus presses a soft kiss against your temple and pulls you even closer to him, “you’re welcome to use me as a seat anytime,” he smiles adoringly at your bashful demeanour, “in fact, I encourage it,”

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N : for those of you that don't know, the moodboard was requested by my darling moot @diputy on my 1k milestone event (now closed) but if you're curious, here are the links to the event and the request masterlist : 1k EVENT | 1k MLIST

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa

#poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #poly marauders x you #poly marauders imagine #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders #poly!marauders #hit series #hit series : +imagines #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders

[moonstruckme]

Can I request Spencer x anxious, overthinker reader ? Maybe, overwhelmed or stressed, like almost burnout, but not quite. Because this semester at uni had just been way too much in every way. Thank you 💕 🌸

Thanks for requeting love, hope you're able to get a break soon!

cw: academic stress, reader has symptoms of anxiety

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

When Spencer gets home in the middle of the night, you don’t hear him over the sound of sizzling and your own racing thoughts. 

“Hi,” he announces himself as he comes in, meeting your little jolt with a bemused look. “I’m surprised you’re still awake.” 

“Hey, how was your flight?” You whirl from the stove for the half a second it takes to brush a kiss against his cheek before turning back to keep pushing things around the pan. The momentary distraction is worth it for the emergence of Spencer’s smile, soft and fatigued. “Sorry, I was hoping to have this done before you got home.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says automatically. “The flight was good. I’m happy to be back.” He sets his bag down and rounds the kitchen island to lean against the counter beside the stove, peering at your face. “I hope you’re not making dinner just for me.” 

“I’m going to have some too,” you reassure him. “I’m starving.” 

Spencer’s expression shifts. You get the sense you’ve confirmed something for him. “It’s pretty late. Why haven’t you eaten yet?” 

You wish you could say that you’d wanted to wait and eat with your boyfriend, but there’s never any point in lying to Spencer. 

“I just haven’t gotten around to it until now,” you say. “I have a lot of work to do.” 

“I know,” he replies. You know he does. You’d started venting about your workload before he left for the case, and he’d been kind about letting you continue to do so during your nightly calls when he was away. “Still, it’s a lot to be up until…” He glances at the microwave clock, unsure of what time it actually is. You can’t say you know, either. “Nearly three-thirty. How long have you been working for?” 

You push the vegetables around in the pan, olive oil spitting and burning the skin of your hand. You feel Spencer’s stare narrow on you. “Since I got home, so seven-ish.” 

He frowns. “You’re not feeling tired, are you?” 

You’re not, though you don’t ask how he can tell. You look tired, you know. Every time you look in the mirror lately, you think of the word unkempt. Messy hair, dull skin, purplish crescent moons stamped under both eyes. But you don’t feel like you could sleep if you tried. There’s an urgency in your blood that gets you up early every morning and propels you to work through the day, like there’s an engine inside of you that’s decided it doesn’t need gas to run. You’re always moving, humming, thinking, certain without reason that if you stop it’ll all fall apart. 

You shake your head, and Spencer frowns towards the pan. “What do you have left to do with this?” 

You’re surprised to find, upon looking down, that the vegetables look ready. “Um,” you switch the heat off, “I’m just waiting for the timer to finish on the pasta, and then I’m going to mix them together. It shouldn’t be long.” 

“Okay.” He takes the spoon from you, moving you out of the way with a careful hand on your shoulder. “I can handle that. You should go sit down.” 

“Spence,” you laugh, “I can do it.” 

He doesn’t argue with you, necessarily, just utters a quiet, “It’s okay,” and nudges you in the direction of the couch. 

You don’t have it in you to protest much, not when he’s just gotten home, so you do, curling up with your feet underneath you and pulling a blanket from over the side of the armrest. You think Spencer is going to want to talk, but he doesn’t, just stirring the pasta and pulling dishes out of the cabinet. Maybe he’s exhausted, too. It is late, and he’s been working on his case the same way you’ve been chipping away at your schoolwork, for days and days with little reprieve. 

You thank him when he passes you a bowl, slurping up the noodles the way your mom would chide you if she were here for and comforted by the fact that Spencer’s doing the same. You’re convinced the pasta somehow tastes better than if you’d finished it yourself, your boyfriend’s poor culinary skills supplemented by the love he puts into taking care of you. 

“You know,” he says after a minute, “there’s evidence to suggest that consistent sleep loss can lead to loss of brain cells.” 

You suck a noodle into your mouth. “I sleep,” you tell him. “I’m just having a late night.” 

Spencer gives you a sorry sort of smile. Like he almost wants to apologize for how smart he is, how it keeps you from getting away with anything. “I’ve only been gone for four days,” he says, “but you were texting me after I went to sleep and before I got up every morning.”  

“Only psychopaths look at timestamps,” you joke, looking down into your pasta bowl. 

He shrugs, quiet. 

“What else can I do?” you ask, and you really are asking. “I have deadlines, Spence. Due dates. I can’t just say fuck it and go to sleep at nine every night like I don’t still have work left to do.” 

“Which part is overwhelming you?” he asks curiously. 

You huff. Not at him. “All of it? It’s like every one of my professors thinks they’re my only class. There’s a bunch of essays and projects all due this week, and no break from the regular stuff to give me time to get it done.” You blink into your pasta bowl, ashamed at the emotion bullying its way into your voice. Blame it on fatigue, you guess. “Every day when I get home from class, I have this impossible list of things to do, and it’s like, if I don’t finish, what’s going to happen? My grades will tank, and I won’t be able to get any of the good internships, and then I won’t get a job, and—”

“It’s okay.” Spencer’s voice is quiet, and you might keep going if not for the hand he sets on your wrist. His thumb strokes once over the delicate skin just below your palm. “It’s okay, just try to breathe for a second. Calm down.” 

You do, only because it’s him. When other people tell you to calm down, it’s a demand, a criticism of your display of feeling. When Spencer does it, it's an assurance. That you can relax, because he’s going to make it all right. 

“I failed three classes when I was in college,” he tells you. 

You imagine your eyes bulging all the way out of your head on cartoon springs, lolling towards the ground. “What?” 

He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I didn’t like them. I never showed up to class, and eventually I just failed. I didn’t really care.” His mouth slants sheepishly. “I probably should have, but I still don’t, actually. You can get a job either way.” 

Your laugh is dry. “Spence, I think it’s a little different for genius prodigies.” 

“Not really,” he says, thumb still pressing into your wrist, and you finally realize he’s been taking your pulse. It’s strangely touching, the way he cares for you so quietly. “Even if you did fail these classes because of the assignments this week, the odds are actually pretty good that you could get a job. And you won’t fail, because you’ll still finish and the work will be great. I know you.” His long fingers stretch up your forearm, a caress. “I know you get really nervous about these things, but you’ll do better work if you sleep more. You’ll be more efficient.” 

“I can’t,” you admit quietly. 

A tiny, sympathetic crease appears between Spencer’s brows. “You can,” he promises. “I’ll make you some nighttime tea and we’ll make sure all the curtains are closed. We should turn off your alarms, too.” 

You bite your lip. “I have class in the morning.” 

“You can miss one. You have to miss a lot for it to really affect your grade, trust me.” He gives the base of your hand a little squeeze. “I’d know.” 

Your laugh is half breath, but Spencer smiles anyway. “Okay.” You’re giving in way too easily, but a morning spent in bed with your boyfriend sounds heavenly. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” he says sincerely, releasing your hand to pick up his fork. “We’ll go to bed once we finish this, okay? And I’ll pick up breakfast tacos for breakfast tomorrow. Protein is good for brain function.”

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