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#indie smut one x one

ddejavvu · 4 months

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anakin kissing gum outta your mouth

oh indy i'm so glad you talk to me about gross!anakin cause he's my fav <3

yeah he does kiss gum out of your mouth. the first time he does it you are appalled. he grabs your jaw and leans in and you tuck it into the side of your cheek so that you can kiss him semi-properly but he jams his tongue rather unceremoniously into your mouth to fish it out. It's gross and spitty and drooly and wet, it's probably the sloppiest kiss you've ever gotten, but when he curls his tongue over it and sucks it into his own mouth you feel a fucking shiver up your spine. I'm talking one that tightens up your shoulders. Electric.

let me tell you he is delighted by how indignant/horrified you are. the more you huff and puff about how that was disgusting, how that was your gum with your spit on it, the wider his grin grows, wolfish and satisfied. it's an open-mouthed grin that perfectly showcases the gum he's still chewing on, and he grabs you around the waist when you try getting up to get another stick.

He'll take turns with you, but only because he gets to pinch your cheeks all hollowed and then spit the gum into your mouth. he gets a real nice view of your mouth open and ready for him, and depending on where he's put his massive hands, he can feel your pulse racing every time he manhandles your face. he might give you an extra glob of spit along with the gum but he wants you to let it pool around your mouth while you chew on the gum and mix it with your own spit, not waste it by swallowing it all

#indy <3 #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

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hanasnx · 5 months

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❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

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aluvsal · 10 months

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𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙏𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏/𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙩

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

such a sweetheart, cleans you up and then gives you cuddles and kisses, sometimes runs you a bath.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his hands, he likes seeing them all over you. his favourite body part of yours are either your hips or your legs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

he likes to cum inside you, on your boobs, or on your face.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he loves teasing you, even if he’s desperate himself, he’ll push that aside just to see you begging for him while on your knees.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

very experienced.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

he loves to see you ride him, especially when he’s in charge, he loves fucking you from underneath.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

usually pretty serious but if you’re feeling a bit down that day then he’ll always make little jokes to lighten the mood.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

trimmed.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

most of the time he’s incredibly intimate, if you’ve been teasing him the whole day then he can be a bit cold, still extremely warm and sweet afterwards tho.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

he doesn’t like to jack off, ever since he felt your hand around him, his hand physically can’t make him cum anymore.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

god, where do i begin? spit kink, daddy kink, edging kink, overstimulation kink, begging kink, degrading + praising kink, etc.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

loves doing it in bed or on the couch, but he’ll do it pretty much anywhere with you, backstage, the studio, the bathroom, the kitchen counter, the car, *anywhere*.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you beg. seeing you squirm in anticipation really gets him going. also when you give him the puppy eyes.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that could cause you physical damage. (aside from light slapping and spanking). feet stuff, scat, piss stuff.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

loves both equally. he loves seeing you struggle to take his whole dick in your mouth but he also loves making you squirm and cum on his tongue.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

goes hand in hand with the intimacy headcanon. normally he’s slow and sensual, tries to get as deep as he can inside you. but if you’ve been teasing him all day he’ll just pin you down and rail you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

loves them, loves fucking you backstage just before a show, purposefully not finishing so he can go on stage with a big bulge in his jeans to tease you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

as long as the both of you feel good, he’s definitely taking risks.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he makes sure you cum at least a few times before he actually fucks you. he can cum around four times before he’s fully worn out.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

blindfolds, handcuffs, vibrators, anything he can use to make you feel good. although, he prefers overall to just use his hands, mouth and his dick.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

LOVES to tease. he can’t get enough of it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

loud groans and grunts when he’s a dom, needy whines and squeals when he’s a sub.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

loves to take pictures in the moment, grabs his polaroid camera and snaps a picture of you laying there, sweaty, squirming, filled with his dick, fucked out.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

huge. over 9 inches and extremely thick. slightly tanned with a pretty pink tip.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

he can go for a few days without needing you, but he loves to fuck you as much as possible.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he makes sure you’re okay, cleaned up and comfortable before he cuddles you to sleep.

#alex turner smut #alex turner one shot #alex turner #alex turner alphabet #am era #alex turner x reader #indie smut rp

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alloftheimaginesblog · 10 months

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no right {indiana jones}

plot: after indy overhears someone make a rude comment about your weight, he steps in to deal with them.

character: indiana jones x plus size female reader

warnings: negative comment about weight/body size, physical fight, panic attack, swearing, hints of sex

Part of my Plus Size History Professor x Indiana Jones series and part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!

You hadn't wanted to come tonight, it had been upon Indy's insistence that you came so when he heard people sniggering about your weight and body in the dress that you were wearing, he felt like it was all his fault.

You had gotten all dressed up, wearing the dress that hugged your figure perfectly showing off that perfect stomach and those delectable hips. Indy loved you in tight clothing, he loved seeing your body. Growing up, hell even 2 years ago, you would hide your body and wear clothing that was baggier to hide those qualities you thought were unattractive. Indy helped you to realise that just because your body wasn't stick thin, just because it had lumps, fat rolls, stretch marks, just because your stomach was overhanging that didn't mean you were unlovable or unworthy of love. Quite the opposite.

You were a little nervous about wearing such a figure hugging dress to the party, general self-consciousness. You weren't great with social situations, usually overthinking all interactions but with Indy by your side you knew that you'd be fine. It was for the college, a fundraiser so there were lots of familiar face but lots of new faces too. He always helped to calm you in situations like this, he always made sure to include you in conversations and would always make sure people knew about your achievements in your field. There was even a time after you'd published your first research book and he went around the campus showing everyone because he was just so proud of you.

Things were going fine until he heard someone scoff behind your back and say, "She's brave dressing like that when she looks like that. If I was her I'd be hiding away from everyone."

"Right?" Another voice laughed, "Is that her boyfriend? Jeez, what does he see in her?"

"Maybe he's blind." The third voice giggled, "You'd have to be to date a whale."

Your heart sank.

All of a sudden, you were fourteen and being picked on for your weight in school. It was the laughter that was the worst thing in the world, the cruel giggles taunting you. Now, mid twenties, and it was still happening.

Tears immediately welled in your eyes as you looked down at your dress, stomach bulging in the red material. You felt awful. You stayed with your back to them too ashamed to turn, too ashamed to do anything. You didn't want to show them that you were crying over their words, they didn't deserve your tears. All could do was stand there, staring down at your body, wishing that you were strong enough to not care or strong enough to turn around and give them a piece of your mind.

It was only when you felt the hand on the small of your back leave that you remembered Indy had been beside you the whole time. He had heard them. His grip on his champagne flute was strong, almost enough to break it. How dare they giggle and snicker about your weight and appearance behind your back? His hand lifted from your back and he slammed the champagne flute down on the table that was conveniently to his left. He spun around.

"Indy," you squeaked out, reaching for him but he was too fast and he had already marched up to the group of three, two women and one man.

"I didn't know teenagers were invited to this party because that's what the three of you are acting like," Indy snarled, face contorted into one you'd never seen before. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils dilated from the anger was a sight you'd never seen before, "How dare you say things like that?! You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

"It was just teasing," one of the women said, "I actually love your dress." She looked to you and flashed a forced pearly white smile. Oh so she was one of those bullies; would act all nicey-nice to your face and then the second you weren't there, she'd turn and snap you in her jaws. You'd known lots of people like that in high school. They'd pretend to be your friend, tell you how pretty you were, introduce you to guys and then when they thought you couldn't hear them, they'd laugh and say that they should ask you out as a joke. Bullies, the lot of them.

Indy scoffed, "Don't bullshit me. You made my wife the butt of your joke, laughed about her, said some horrible stuff, turn the tables and you'd be sobbing into your fake designer handbags. I mean come on, are your lives really that boring that you just start insulting everyone around you?"

"Look, dude," the guy said, putting a hand on Indy's chest as he stepped forward, "if she doesn't want people commenting on her appearance then she shouldn't be wearing-"

Crack! The man didn't have a chance to finish because Indy had already balled up a fist and had hit him square on the jaw. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth as the two women gasped and the whole party around the two of you stopped to stare at the scene unfolding.

"Don't dare finish that statement, asshole!" Indy yelled, pointing his index finger at him as the man lay bleeding and groaning on the floor, "None of you are worth half as much as her. None of you! She is kinder than you'll ever be, she is far more worthy than the three of you put together, she's damn beautiful and you? You're all scumbags. You hate yourselves so much that you tear everyone around you down so it makes you sleep better at night but not tonight. Go to hell, all three of you!" His voice was loud and angry. You'd never seen him like this, never heard him get so heated and it was over you; it was for you. All you could do was stare in shock as Indy delivered the final blow, "You don't have the right to talk about anyone else's body!"

He stood, chest heaving, glaring down as one of the women helped the man up, "I- We are sorry," the woman said quickly, glancing around at the rest of the party guests knowing they'd witnessed everything.

You walked towards Indy, gently taking his forearm. He tensed and whirled round but when he saw it was you, he visibly relaxed, "Let's go," you whispered. The three were leaving, ashamed of their actions, but you couldn't stay here. You couldn't stay after being publicly humiliated like that. Indy nodded and led you out of the party as guests watched you the whole way out.

In the car home, neither of you spoke. You couldn't. If you spoke, you'd break and you just wanted out of this dress, you wanted to scrub at yourself in the shower and wipe the insults away, scrub the shame away... Indy glanced at you every few seconds, he knew you didn't want to talk but he just wanted to know that you were okay but he just didn't know how to approach it. Honestly he was worried you might be mad at him for causing a scene but he just couldn't let those bullies get away with speaking about you so casually and cruelly like that. The drive home was uncomfortable for the next twenty minutes.

It wasn't until you got back into the apartment that you began to crack. You immediately rushed to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Indy winced. Fuck, he thought thinking that he'd messed it all up but it wasn't him you were upset at. It was them and, truth be told, you were upset at yourself too. Years of actively trying to be more kind about yourself, years of trying to love yourself and be at peace with yourself and now one little comment has everything flown out of the window. They have you hating yourself and you hate that bullies like that can have and hold so much power.

You refused to look in the direction of the mirror as tears streamed down your face making your mascara run and your eyeliner smudge. Desperately, your hands tried to pull the zipper of the dress down but it was impossible, it was too high up and your arms just didn't bend like that. Your chest heaved with silent, panicked sobs as you tried and tried but ended up throwing yourself headfirst into a bit of a panic attack.

"I-Indy!" Indy, who was icing his already bruised knuckles with an ice pack, heard your strangled cry and dropped the ice pack on the counter to come to your aid. He could tell by your tone that it was serious so he didn't knock and instead burst into your shared bedroom. There you were, trying desperately to pull down the zip sobbing and panting.

"I-I need- need- out!" You wailed through your sobs and babbles.

Indy was quick to pull the zip of your dress down, helping to shove the red material down past your stomach and hips so that you could hastily kick yourself out of it, kicking it half way across the room. You stood, sobbing, as your hands tried to cover yourself. He'd seen you naked many times before and you weren't even naked, you were covered in underwear, but it was different tonight so Indy didn't question it. Instead, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and you quickly used it to hide the front of your body from him before you collapsed into his arms. He whispered soothing words of comfort in your ear until you'd stopped crying and until your breathing had returned to normal.

"You ready to talk about it?" He whispered, breaking away from your grasp ever so slightly (which wasn't an easy feat as your hands were gripping his shirt in a white knuckle grip). You shrugged, lip wobbling, "Okay, sweetheart, okay... are you ready to hear me talk about it?" You considered it for a few seconds before giving a tentative nod, "Okay good. Want to sit down?"

"I-I need to get changed." Your voice was thick and slightly hoarse.

Indy nodded, "You want me to stay or go?"

"Stay," you whispered, "but... can you shut your eyes?" You felt stupid. You were so comfortable around Indy but the wound was too fresh and you just wanted to hide from everyone including him.

Indy never thought you were stupid, not for one second, he nodded and complied after sitting on the edge of the bed, "Just let me know when I can open them." You checked to make sure his eyes were shut before you made your way to your chest of drawers. There was no question about what you were picking; you were taking out the largest, baggiest pyjamas you owned which was a massive navy blue novelty shirt and a very long, baggy pair of old pyjama bottoms. You took yourself to the bathroom, again not looking in the mirror, as you grabbed a fresh face cloth, ran it under the tap and scrubbed at your face. A couple of minutes later, after tying your hair up, you exited the bathroom to tell him softly that he could open his eyes.

He opened and gave you a wide smile, "There she is," he said. He knew exactly why you'd opted for your baggiest clothes but he didn't judge, he understood, he never once looked at you with pity... just with love. He led you out to the couch where he grabbed a blanket and let you wrap yourself up with it before he sat down beside you.

"I'm sorry," he licked his lips as he frowned, "for a few things actually. I'm sorry that those idiots said such horrid, awful things about you. I'm sorry that you heard their lies. I'm sorry they ruined it... I'm sorry I made a scene but I won't apologise for punching that son of a bitch, He deserved it. I couldn't stand there and let him talk about you like that." He looked at you and saw the hint of a smile on your lips, "How do you feel?"

You looked to your hands, tears once again automatically flooding your eyes, "Awful," you admit quietly, "I hate that I've let them bother me so much. I hate how dramatic I'm being. I wish I could be different, wish I could hear stuff like that and not let it bother me. Wish I could just not care about that stuff, y'know?"

"Sweetheart," Indy's hand moved to hold yours, "you got it backwards. You're not the problem here. You aren't being dramatic or silly or hormonal or anything like that. They're the problem, you know that right?" You shrugged.

Whenever you got upset over someone making a comment about your weight or your size or shape, the usual answer was something like 'toughen up' or 'well don't give them something to mock you for'. You were always told it was your fault they said stuff, it was your body they were mocking after all.

Indy shook his head, scooting closer to you, "They're the ones who should be ashamed, not you. Never you. You were just enjoying your night, you were just existing, you weren't commenting or mocking anyone's body so how dare they do it to you? You are beautiful so please, please, please," he squeezed your hands, "don't let them tear you down."

"I..." Words failed you as you stared at yours and Indy's joined hands, "I just... I really liked that dress."

"Why should they get to ruin it?" He asked, "Why should their stupidity affect the way you see yourself and the way you dress? Fuck them." You smiled slightly at his colourful language, "Wear the dress, wear it grocery shopping, wear it to the mall, wear it to work. Who cares? You look damn good in it. Your stomach looks so damn sexy in it. Your hips... god they look like I could take a bite right out of them... But why should you listen to me? Your body is yours. You liked the way you looked in that dress, listen to yourself. You know you looked good so do not think you need to change to fit their smallminded views."

"Oh, Indy," you wept throwing your arms around his neck, "You really mean all that?"

He nodded into your shoulder, pulling you flush against his chest, "Every word, princess," he murmured, "you are beautiful and you deserve to feel it... Please just ignore those idiots, they are worthless compared to you. You deserve to be comfortable in your own skin."

"How's your hand?" You asked him pulling back to study the bruised skin, "It looks sore, you didn't have to-"

"Course I had to," he scoffed, "think I'm going to let anyone say stuff like that about you? Absolutely not. It's fine, not broken just a bruise and a bit swollen."

"You know," you said, a smile tugging your lips upwards, "it was quite hot." Indy laughed. "You really liked the dress on me?" You asked, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Sweetheart, it - you - drove me crazy in it. We should've just stayed home and I could've given you much better memories..."

You smirked, cheeks feeling hot as heat pooled between your legs, "What if you helped me put it back on and told me how crazy it drove you?" You suggested softly, "Maybe you could take it off me too?"

Indy's grin widened, "Oh princess, I think that sounds pretty damn good." He stood, taking your hand and pulling you back to the bedroom to make some better memories for the red dress.

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xcherrypie · 4 months

Text

Sunburn & Silk dresses

Summary: your on holiday with Sam and he decides to call it an early night, for the both of you.

Words: 1.7k

Rolling over in your shared bed you stretch over and reach out for Sam. You both were currently on holiday with your best friend Molly, and her boyfriend Cal, in the most beautiful Greek island. Admittedly, you’d never been on such a chilled holiday, but spending it with Sam made it even better. “Sam?” you called out once you had registered that you couldn’t feel his touch. “I’m through here” he chuckled in response. “You overslept from your nap babe, we have to leave in half an hour” he continued. Oh shit, you forgot, you had a meal booked for just you and Sam at some posh restaurant you saw while exploring the island, the day before. Truthfully you were looking forward to some time alone together, as much as you love your best friend and her boyfriend you didn’t realise how little time alone you and Sam would get, even moments spent at your villa was as a group of four, dancing around by the pool, or talking the night away.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You groaned as you approached Sam, he looked so good, leaning against the balcony of your room, wearing nothing but his boxers and a golden tan. “I was going to pet, just you looked so peaceful” Sam smiled down at you as you rubbed circles on his back. “Come get back in bed with me” you whispered against Sam’s ear. He grabbed your wrists in response brining your bodies to collide together, faces centimetres apart. “I can’t, you need to get ready, or we will be late” he smirked, his lips hovering over yours as he spoke, for him to then plant a sweet kiss on your nose. You whined in response, knowing how much Sam enjoyed teasing you like this.

You free yourself from his grip, and head to your bathroom to get ready, Sam couldn’t help but stare at you as you walked away from him. He was in awe of how hot you looked, in his favourite look of yours; a pair of lace knickers and one of his cotton shirts. You were also sporting a nice tan, however Sam loved the little bits of sunburn that brushed your nose and cheeks, he found it adorable.

Sam’s mouth dropped when you entered the bedroom after quickly getting ready, he sat on the edge of the the bed, taking all of you in. He pulled you closer, to stand in-between his legs as he looked up at you, “look at you” he murmured lowly, overwhelmed by how irresistible you looked in your tight fitting, silk cocktail dress, that flowed out so elegantly past your hips. “Who you trying to impress ay?” he smirked jokingly. “Oh, no one that important” you sarcastically replied, leaving a deep kiss against his lips, as you played with the buttons on his loose fitted shirt. “Right let’s go” you laughed.” Before we actually are late” You leant back offering you hand out to Sam, pulling him from his seated position at the edge of the bed, he slapped your arse as you spun around to guid him to the exit of your villa, fearing you’d both never actually make it out of there for your meal.

Yourself and Sam had a lovely time out for food, full of laughter and pointless chit chat, Sam could do that forever with you, just sit and listen to you talk about whatever pops to mind. You both express how good the food was and how full you are now and decide to head back to the villa, expecting Molly and Cal to be waiting for you, for a night of games and drinking by the pool. And you were right, “ah here they are, dirty stop outs” Molly winked at you as you entered the villa. “We’ve been waiting for you for ages” she continued. “Sorry sorry, we were a bit late to our table and had to wait for a taxi back, but we’re here now” you replied, giving your best friend a hug while Sam placed himself next to her boyfriend, them both opening bottles of beer.

“As if we’ve only got two nights left” Molly exclaimed, slurring on her words. As the night continued Molly along with her boyfriend had decided to make the most of the fridge full of alcohol and as a result ended up a fair amount more intoxicated than both you and Sam. You didn’t mind though, everyone was enjoying the night and Sam just got more attractive as the night continued, the moon highlighting his features and his shirt moving with the warm night breeze against his body, you were finding it hard to concentrate. Therefore it was only fair you made Sam just as distracted as you.

Subtly throughout the night you do things that you know will drive him crazy, from suggestive eye contact every now and then, to positioning yourself on his lap during conversations. You know he equally won’t be able to resist you by the end of the night. While sat next to him you run your fingertips across his thigh getting closer to what you wanted by the second. He shot you with a look of both frustration and lust, only encouraging you more.

“I think we’re gonna call it a night” Sam quickly told Cal, whilst grabbing hold of your hand, already half leading you to your room. “Alright mate, see you in the morning for breakfast” he replied while Molly gave you a kiss on the cheek signalling her goodnight. You were worried you came across rude, leaving so abruptly but Molly and Cal were so merry you figured yours and Sam’s absence wouldn’t make all that difference.

The closer you got to your room the more you needed Sam. You didn’t have long to wait though, the second you entered your room the door was slammed shut and you were thrown onto the bed. “It’s been so difficult for me tonight you know” Sam spoke, positioning his body over yours, landing wet kisses in the crook of your neck. “Trying to keep my hands of you ain’t easy at the best of times y/n, especially when your acting like you are” he continues, straddling your hips. You feel your underwear soaking through, beginning to get impatient. “And how have I been acting?” You respond innocently knowing this would set him off even further.

Sam didn’t even reply, he just pushed his body up from the bed and stood at the foot of it, grabbing your legs and dragging your entrance to the foot of the bed also in the process. While still holding your legs in the air he stats kissing down each leg, making you whine out. “Sam please” you moan as his hands make there way up your dress, playing with the fabric on your knickers. “Hm not nice is it? Not being able to have what you want straight away” he smirked, looking up at you through his eyelashes. Without giving you a chance to reply Sam yanked your knickers off over your legs, leaving his face hovering over your heat. You find your hands playing with his hair, hoping it’ll encourage him to give you what you desire.

You threw your head back in pleasure as he took a big lick up your folds, “So wet for me” he smiled. “Hmm Sam” you croaked while he starts placing gentle kisses on your clit, you find yourself gripping onto the bedsheets. Sam notices and grabs your wrists pinning them to your side so all you can do is take the pleasure he’s giving you. While he starts sucking on your clit, your vision goes blurry, overwhelmed with how good his tounge feels, you sit up and look down at him, you have such a good view, but it pushes you over the edge.

“I need you Sam please” you plead. “I need you to fuck me” you continue, short of breath. Without hesitation Sam gets up from his kneeling position and in one swift motion removed your dress from over your head, you return the favour to Sam, removing his shirt. You continue to unbuckle the belt on his shorts when you feel how hard he is under the material. “Oh my god” you gasp, smirking up at him. “It’s what you do to me love” he responded, before kicking of his shorts along with his boxers in the process.

You start running your hand up and down the shaft of his hard length while he spreads kisses all over your chest, an occasional suck on your nipples, making you go crazy. You line up his dick with your entrance and he slowly enters you, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Shit you feel so good” he pants, thrusting into you deeply. “Sam don’t stop” you beg as you can feel that your close and need to release. As much as Sam would like to tease you all night, he too needed to feel you badly. His thrusts get harder, as does your grip on his shoulders and moans start filling your room. So much so it’s not until after a few seconds later you hear shuffling and movement from outside your door. Shit, Molly and Cal must be making their way to bed. “Sh, your gonna have to be quiet”, Sam half moan, half whispers to your ear. But as you feel your climax approaching it was harder to keep your moans at bay than you thought. As a result Sam covers your mouth with his hand, turning you on even further. By the way that Sam’s thrusts into you have softened and his thighs start to shake, you could tell he was about to cum. “You ready” Sam smirked. You nodded, his hand still covering your mouth to muffle your moans. “Fuck” Sam croaked, as your eyes rolled back at your orgasm, your legs also starting to shake. Sam presses gentle pecks on your lips then climbed off you, the whole time admiring how beautiful you looked, despite your hair being a mess and beads of sweat dripping down your forehead. He moved himself next to you, placing his arm under your head for you to snuggle into, “Fuck I love you” Sam sighed smiling down at you.

Notes: Hey lovelies, this is my first time writing smut so please let me know how it is, also the teaser for “Homesick” looks incredible, can’t wait!

#imagines #smut #indie music #sam x reader #sam fender imagines #sam fender #one shot #boyfriend imagine #Spotify

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slutforsfender · 11 months

Text

Sam Fender Imagines Masterlist

(requests open!)

"We're Not Just Friends and You Fucking Know It"

"You Can't Keep It All Inside You Know. Bottling It Up Won't Do Anyone Any Good"

Late Period

"If It Wasn't For You, I'd Be So Lost. I'm So Glad You Came Into My Life"

Late Night Dancing

"Give Me One Reason Not To Kill Her Right Now"

The Calm After The Storm (Request)

Happy Endings (Request)

Concerts Aren't Always Just Concerts (Request)

Slow Mornings

Jealousy Jealousy

"I Think I'm Falling In Love With You and I'm Terrified"

Sets & Sweet Words (Request)

"Don't Talk To Me. Someone Might Think We Are Friends" (Request)

"Say It" (Smut)

"I'm Never Letting You Go" (Request)

"You're So Fucking Hot When You're Mad" (Smut)

Photo Booth

TRNSMT (Request)

Honorary Degree (Request)

Dancing In The Rain

Italy Trip

Also Starring

Mutual Friends - Drew Michaels (Request)

#masterlist #fanfic #imagines #imagine #sam fender #sam fender x reader #sam fender imagines #sam fender one shot #sam fender smut #music #one shot #indie

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oldhavnts · 1 year

Text

Pinned Post

Hello all and welcome to my blog! I go by L. I’m practically thirty and am looking for one-two new partners to create new ships with.

I am almost thirty and prefer writing with other partners 21+

I primarily play male muses in m/f ships but am open to f/f

My activity is up and down, but please always feel free to message or inspo spam

I have an extensive list of muses and need to make a new page and remake my Pinterest

I write slice of life plots, usually with mature and taboo themes

#indie smut roleplay #indie smut discord #indie smut #indie roleplay #one x one #one x one roleplay #1 x 1 roleplay #1 x 1 discord #discord roleplay #mature roleplay

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

INDIANA JONES isn’t too comfortable being outwardly emotional. Even during sex he can be a little distant. Sure, he’ll get you off, do everything right, give you your prep, give you his cock, but it’ll all be very clinical. Cut and dry. Standard procedure. He doesn’t mean to do it; it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy sex with you, it’s not that he’s not passionate. He’s just guarded. It takes a while to come out of his shell, you have to coax it out of him. Spontaneity does wonders for unlocking his more fun-loving side during sex, and it just so happens that you’d accessed that while inside his classroom to drop off his lunch. It’s not like you planned to wear his favorite dress, his favorite perfume, or your good pair of showy heels. Nor that you insisted on sitting on his lap when he was taking a look at some papers at his desk.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

oh indy this was so so sexy... there's not a huge emotional component you're right, it's more about lust and sex because he's not used to his heart being involved. sex is so mechanical for him, and it doesn't mean that it isn't genuine, but it's what he's used to and it's hard for him to branch out. he doesn't look you in the eye all that often, he prefers to bury his face in your neck to lick and suck and leave marks there, or latch onto one of your tits to bite your nipples all puffy and swollen and sore. but when you're not in a bedroom, when you're bent right over the top of his desk he's talking more, calling you perfect and desperate and eager and you are so so surprised because he is talking up a storm!! it starts flowing naturally for him, and when he flips you over to lay your back on his desk instead of your stomach, he leans right in to kiss you like he's trying to devour you. it's not just messy tongue and teeth, it's something far more intimate and emotional. it's so not what you're used to with him but it does the job so well. he does have to get back to work though :( you're not expecting him to offer at all, but you're more than happy to sit in his lap with his fat cock nestled deep inside of you while he finishes grading the exams he was trying to get through before you distracted him <33

#indiana jones x reader #indiana jones blurb #indiana jones imagine #indiana jones fluff #indiana jones oneshot #indiana jones one-shot #indiana jones one shot #indiana jones headcanons #indiana jones headcanon #indiana jones hc #indiana jones hcs #indiana jones fanfiction #indiana jones drabble #indiana jones dialogue #indiana jones fanfic #indiana jones fic #indiana jones smut #indiana jones au #indy <3

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hanasnx · 7 months

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KRAYT HOUSE M.LIST | ABOUT: Welcome to our page! Below you’ll find any and all links to fulfill your every dirty desire. Our studio is proud to present our first series in honor of Kinktober. If you find any episode(s) that interest you: comment, reblog, or inbox @hanasnx to be included on the taglist for the individual episode(s) you specify. Must have an age in bio or pinned to be tagged.

MINORS DNI 18+

STATUS: Completed! DISCLAIMER: None of these are actual videos. This is a masterlist to a literary fanfiction series.

NAVI | M.LIST | INBOX | @KRAYTHOUSE

Krayt House’s Uploaded Videos

Showing 1-32 of 313

▷ House of Amateurs | Behind the Scenes: Background, Rules, & Credit - S1E0

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WARNINGS: f!reader | adult film au | mentioned: sexual content, adult film industry

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▷ House of Amateurs | Behind the Scenes - S1E6

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WARNINGS: no reader | adult film au | spoilers: october 2nd | mentioned: sexual content, adult film industry

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▷ House of Amateurs | Behind the Scenes - S1E13

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WARNINGS: no reader | adult film au | spoilers: october 9th | mentioned: sexual content, adult film industry, knife play, butt plug

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▷ House of Amateurs | Behind the Scenes - S1E20

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WARNINGS: no reader | adult film au | spoilers: october 19th | mentioned: sexual content, adult film industry

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▷ House of Amateurs | Behind the Scenes - S1E27

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WARNINGS: no reader | adult film au | spoilers: october 22nd | mentioned: sexual content, adult film industry

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lovelyhan · 1 year

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— favorite poison ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

word count: 15.5k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex

wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme

fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215

part one - part two - part three - part four

“So when are you introducing me?”

The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.

He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.

“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs.

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”

Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see.

Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.

Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.

Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now?

“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head.

“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”

“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”

“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him.

“Why?” he asks with a scowl.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”

Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life.

“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”

Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.”

“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”

He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind.

Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned.

What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.

About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.

The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping.

Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.

But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.

“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?”

“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”

Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.

“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”

The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all.

“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”

Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now.

“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”

Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.

Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?

“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”

As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.

“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”

Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.

Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.

“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”

You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.

He’s fucking perfect.

Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion.

Well, almost everyone.

“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”

Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily.

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.

The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?”

Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.

“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.

“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.

“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”

Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you?

As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.

But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless.

Aside from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?

“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!”

Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.

The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.

But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one.

“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”

“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”

Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.

“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”

“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.

“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”

“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.

“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.

He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—

His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.

“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”

To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.

He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?

As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.

So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then?

Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly.

One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.

“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”

His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.

Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply.

He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…

You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.

“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response.

Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.

You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”

“Strip.”

“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”

He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further.

Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?

“Do you like it, daddy?”

Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.

It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after.

“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.

Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth.

You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”

The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.

“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days.

A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.

Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.

You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…

Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.

And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.

The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor.

You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.

Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?”

You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.

“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”

A low, devilish laugh escapes him.

“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”

He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?”

“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!”

The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.

“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”

For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.

“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”

The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.

Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual.

He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you.

When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it.

Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look.

Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”

You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.

As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him.

With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.

“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”

“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”

“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”

“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss.

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before.

It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you.

The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.

Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.

“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”

Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”

Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.

There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him.

It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…

“Can I ask about your old dom?”

Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—

You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet.

“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”

Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”

“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”

“So…what made you part ways?”

Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.

“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”

Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.

Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.

Is that because of your old shitty dom?

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his.

You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”

“How’d you even get rid of him?”

“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”

Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.

A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless.

“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”

He hums. “Why is that?”

“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”

“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.

For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.

But you don’t have to know about that.

On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.

He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore.

So, he does something stupid.

He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out.

But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.

Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.

Why does it matter anyway, right?

Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.

But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”

The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”

“Of your girlfriend?”

“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”

Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”

A secret… That’s right.

What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret.

Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.

“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”

“Who else is invited again?”

“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”

Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment.

He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.

The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message.

He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later.

Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”

“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”

“Early.”

“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?

🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out

🐈‍⬛: Wow

🐈‍: ?

🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply

🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long <3

🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious

🐈‍: well, so am i

🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon

🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone

🐈‍⬛: Okay

Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.

Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.

At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.

It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again.

But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere.

He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason.

When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.

Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.

🐈‍: help me. please.

Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.

He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party?

And why did you call him for help?

Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.

He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.

From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo.

However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.

“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”

“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”

Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.

Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?

“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”

He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”

“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”

Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.

“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”

“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”

When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.

Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.

Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.

Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.

You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened.

But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:

“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”

You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”

Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.

“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.”

You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative.

The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?

In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.

He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together.

Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”

You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.

With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.

When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.

Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places.

The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.

He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.

The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.

“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth.

When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place.

As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.

Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.

When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.

Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.

“You can’t be serious,” you say.

He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after.

He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.

“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .

Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time.

For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.

It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.

He’s in love.

The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.

“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank.

Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?

But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…

I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.

That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.

But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny.

“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”

You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something.

But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.

(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.)

🐈‍: are u free today

🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty

🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned

🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh

🐈‍⬛: Did you?

🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived

🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition

🐈‍: if you know what i mean

🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?

🐈‍: always <3

There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.

He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.

“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.

As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.

Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.

“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”

He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss.

Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.

Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh.

Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.

You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you.

There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted.

The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch.

He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.

“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”

You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.

Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual.

You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.

It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.

He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.

All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you.

“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!”

He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips.

You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.

He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote.

He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it.

But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.

You don’t do relationships.

Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?

“Wonwoo?”

He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”

Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”

Next time.

The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?

How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?

“Wonwoo, where are you…?”

He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.

“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead.

“Then…why are you acting like this?”

The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want.

“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”

Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know

Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.

Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.

So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.

When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.

“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”

Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth.

But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.

When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.

Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.

“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”

He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”

Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.

“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”

Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation.

It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.

“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”

Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace.

He really hopes so, too.

One month.

It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you.

He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you.

Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.

You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.

His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits.

Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him.

“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitates.

Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face.

Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.

“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”

You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now.

Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung.

“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.”

Fuck. He knew it.

“I’m—”

Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.

“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”

At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.

Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.

“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between.

“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”

The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.

“Fine.”

You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal.

“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask.

Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him.

God fucking damn it.

He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions.

Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.

“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more.

“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”

Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.

“It’s nothing you should worry about.”

“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.

“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”

The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?

Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…

“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”

The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.

Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.

You’re…in love with him?

“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”

“Say it again.”

When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.

“What?”

Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.

“Tell me you’re in love with me.”

You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”

Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again.

“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second.

You abhor how handsome he looks like this.

“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”

“I fucking hate you, too.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.

“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”

One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about.

First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…

“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic.

You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.

He’ll tell you the words properly someday.

Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.

For now, he’ll give you one last release.

He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion.

So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.

Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.

Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.

“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”

Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.

“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.

“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”

Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.

When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time.

As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.

“Wonwoo?”

He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”

You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?

Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone.

However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—

“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.

You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”

The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder.

You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.

“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours.

He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.

But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.

And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.

“Challenge accepted.”

part one - part two - part three - part four

q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found. How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T

this is part of the game over series!

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo smut #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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mydearzero · 9 months

Text

Lisztomania | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Years after joining the BAU, you thought you'd gotten past your little celebrity-like infatuation with Spencer, the whole reason you applied for the BAU. A case involving the murder of several groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band is bound to prove you wrong.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

4.7K words

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that Spencer would be the one to deliver the profile to the public. He looked a lot more stoic on TV than in real life. You never failed to be amazed by how he could still surprise you over the years. He looked confident, and it was a good look on him.

"-The man we're looking for is between the ages of 25 and 40. He is of an average build. He's likely socially inept and doesn't mingle well with his peers. Please be on the lookout for anybody who fits this description and contact the FBI through the local Police Department. Thank you."

"Someone's gawking." Emily's words startled you out of your Spencer-induced trance. You crossed your arms and grumbled.

"No, I wasn't..." You bit the inside of your cheek as Emily pat your shoulder and scoffed a laugh.

"Sure, you weren't. I gotta give it to you. TV does Boy Wonder well." Emily said as she watched the head of the local Police Department take over the press conference as Spencer left the screen.

"I guess I'm just amazed at how different he looks while doing press. Compared to how he usually carries himself, I mean." You shrugged. Emily turned to look at you, no longer interested in the TV screen.

"Guess that's the profiler in all of us. You can't help but compare. But you're right. Reid does have a certain je ne sais quoi about him, I suppose."

_________

That was several months ago. It wasn't until you saw Spencer in front of a classroom that a familiar, uneasy feeling returned to your stomach. Emily was right. He did 'have a certain je ne sais quoi about him'. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"-Which is why it's crucial we always discuss the details of the COD with the coroner's office. COD being the Cause of Death, of course." Spencer spoke with an air of juvenile enthusiasm. You were glad he still had that part in him, despite everything that happened previous to his teaching.

He finished the class and was about to walk over to where you were leaning against the wall, waiting for him to finish. But when he was nearly done packing his satchel, a small group of college girls formed around his desk. The soft smile he'd directed at you was quickly cut short.

You stared in amazement at the girls' shameless flirting. Spencer had turned this group of brilliant and educated girls into giddy schoolgirls, all by just being himself. They all wanted a piece of him, and you started to have peace with the fact that you didn't blame them. You were in the same boat.

_________

The final straw was during a case concerning a string of murders involving groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band.

"I mean, I get the urge to throw your panties on stage at an attractive man. I do. Even I would've taken the bait with Nick Carter, given the chance. But to follow a random stranger down a dark alley in the hopes of meeting your idol? That seems a bit far-fetched. Girls this age are smarter than that, especially with the media frenzy." JJ flipped through the details described in the case file.

"There's been several cases of fangirls going to great lengths to get what they want from their idol. The earliest case would probably be with Hungarian composer Franz Liszt in 1841.

The term 'Lisztomania' came about in 1844, describing an intense level of hysteria demonstrated by fans, a bit like the treatment of celebrity musicians today – but in a time not known for such musical excitement.

A more recent example would be Beatlemania, or even the so-called 'Bieber Fever' or 'One Direction Infection'. There have been several studies that explain this behaviour, but I won't get into that." Spencer trailed off.

"I know someone else who had a case of that. But I think that was just called a hard-on." JJ joked, jabbing at Spencer's short-lived fling with Lila Archer over ten years ago. Spencer grumbled something along the lines of "Can we please let that go," but it fell on deaf ears.

"It's still strange they would follow someone down the alley unless the person they're following has been established in the girls' minds as someone with authority, like a crew member connected to the band," Rossi mentioned.

"Garcia, look into all the current members of the band's crew along with the people working at the venues. We're going to need you at the scene, too. There's a lot of social media involved. Thank you. Wheels up in 30." Hotch stood up, signalling the meeting was finished.

You walked with Emily back to the bullpen, Spencer following close behind.

"You know, I get it. There's something attractive about a man with a platform, even if you put him on that pedestal yourself, to begin with." Emily said as you leaned against her desk.

"Yeah, for sure. It doesn't have to be a pop star or actor. A celebrity, even. Could be anybody under the right circumstances." You agreed. You could see the appeal in having an unrelenting devotion to someone like that.

You put Spencer on a pedestal like that, in a way. You watched as he gathered his things into his go-bag. You knew he was a flawed person, like anybody. Yet, in your eyes, all his problems could be explained or ignored. You didn't notice the curious glance Emily sent your way.

While on the jet, you contemplated the case. Would you have fallen for the ruse? Maybe if you had been a bit younger? You'd had your own little celebrity obsessions. You wouldn't have ruled it out if free tickets and a meet & greet were in the picture.

It was a quick but convoluted catch once the profile was made. Thank you, Penelope. The UnSub was most likely one of the band's crew members who used to date the bassist. They'd broken up due to an increasing number of groupies getting in the way of their relationship. Go figure she'd go and murder them.

The catch happened right in time with the start of the show, the bustling crowd missing all of the mayhem that had gone down backstage due to the support act. How the gigs hadn't been cancelled yet was beyond you.

"You can stay and watch the show from the VIP area if you want. It's the least we can do, really. Though, maybe ditch the FBI gear." The lead singer had a charming smile. You could see how the crowd waiting for him could be captivated by his energy.

After Hotch checked with the hotel and pilot, the team decided to take the band up on their invitation. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, you drove back to the venue in groups.

You were escorted to a barricaded area near the front of the stage. The energy of the crowd was exhilarating. An electric tension hung in the air as the 30-minute change-over between the support was filled with soft music from a playlist.

JJ and Rossi came bearing gifts, both carrying several drinks to hand out to the team. You thanked them as you took one, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink. You deserved to relax and enjoy a night like this after the gruelling case.

You watched unabashedly at Spencer, red overhead lights casting down on his face. You'd like to see how he'd do on the stage, perhaps in an alternate universe, and with a different wardrobe. He was undoubtedly eclectic enough to pull off the whole rock star gig.

He felt your gaze and made eye contact, working his way past a wildly gesturing Emily as she told a story. He lightly grabbed your upper arm when he reached you.

"Hey." You saw his mouth move, but his words got lost under the chattering crowd. You smiled and leaned closer.

"Hi! Fancy seeing you here!" You shouted. Spencer winced as he laughed. You'd obviously overestimated the volume of the crowd. You mouthed a quick apology before taking another drink.

You nearly choked when Spencer leaned even closer, invading your personal bubble (that was already narrow), to talk directly in your ear.

"Did you know that typical movement behaviour at large events like these increases the risk of spreading infectious diseases?" You bit your lip as you stopped yourself from laughing. Leave it up to Spencer to break the tension like that.

"It makes sense, I guess. Lots of people, lots of bodily fluids. Kinda gross, now that I think about it," you replied.

Just as he was about to speak again, the lights dimmed, and screams filled the stadium. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, afterwards turning to look at the show. He stood behind you for the majority of the show, and while you would've loved to admire him in the gorgeous lighting a little longer, you couldn't have asked for a better person to have rubbed up against you for an hour and a half.

After the show, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest ahead of their early flight the following day. The rest headed out to a bar just around the corner of the venue. You walked quickly, the cold of the outside being a jarring change from the heat at the concert.

You were a few drinks in when Penelope brought up a subject you'd somehow managed to avoid all these years.

"If I hadn't joined the FBI, I would've liked to be some sort of celebrity," She mentioned, taking another sip through her straw.

"Considering the type of psychos we encounter on a daily basis, I'd rather be less known, not more." Emily shuddered. You were quick to agree. Although fame was attractive on some level, you wouldn't want to risk situations like those you'd witnessed these last few days in exchange.

"What made you want to become an agent in the first place?" Penelope turned to you before continuing. "I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was jail or the FBI, and I'm not jail material. I mean, look at me!" She gestured wildly to herself.

You chuckled and decided to pick an opt-out answer. "I just saw it as the right thing to do, you know? Make the world a better place, even if it's only little by little." You shrugged.

Spencer squinted as he ran his eyes over your face. "Bullshit." He determined. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his callout.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned genuinely. Sure, you hadn't been entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie.

"You're lying, I can tell. You do that thing with your face. Besides, that's the most basic answer ever. Surely a person with as much integrity as you do would have a better reason than a moral superiority complex." Spencer stated matter-of-factly. You gaped at his accusation.

"He's right, though. You have no connection to the Bureau. Reid is a wunderkind, Garcia is basically an ex-con, and I'm a child of nepotism. What made you apply? And for the BAU of all places?" Emily wondered out loud.

You recoiled as you realised there was no getting out of this. If you were going to dance around the subject, Penelope would get too curious, anyways. She'd have your application and its details pulled up in no time. That, along with cross-referencing the BAU with your college, it wouldn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened.

"I actually followed a lecture on sexual sadism and the Mill Creek Killer back in college that made me wonder if I'd be cut out for it." You admitted, omitting some key details.

The one secret you'd sworn to take to your grave was that Spencer was the sole reason you were with the FBI in the first place, having followed one of his guest lectures a few years back.

He hadn't even left the room before you'd turned in your online application to the Academy.

"Why not mention that in the first place? God, no need to be so secretive about it." Penelope whined. You didn't answer as you tentatively sipped your drink, feeling busted for no reason.

You glanced up to look at an overly smug and amused Spencer. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised you were most definitely caught.

"You know, when Hotch first introduced us to you, I thought I recognised you from somewhere. But the memory I have of that lecture is actually overshadowed by this kid who was also there, Nathan Harris. He ended up killing some prostitutes. But now that you mention it, you did go to Georgetown, didn't you?" Spencer knew he was right. He just wanted to see how you were going to talk yourself out of this one.

"Oh, you gave that lecture? I never realised..." It was a pathetic lie, and there was no hiding it. Emily snorted out loud. She'd clocked your little 'thing' for Spencer long ago, you knew that much.

"Aww, you looked up to Spencer? That's so cute!" Penelope gushed. That sure was one way to put it. You made a face that must've said as much.

"What, you didn't look up to me? I'm offended. Here I thought I was your favourite professor." Spencer joked. He excused himself as he walked to the bathroom. Great timing, as it gave you time to rid your cheeks of the flush you were sporting.

"Be honest with me. And don't bother lying because we've all seen the heart eyes you throw at Pretty Boy. Were you genuinely interested in joining because of the subject matter? Or..." Emily encouraged you to answer.

You sighed as you brought a hand to your face. "Honestly? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be him or be with him. But at least I signed up for the class out of genuine interest! There were plenty of girls there that were there purely for the hour-long eye candy!" You defended yourself.

"And you applied for the Academy after the lecture? At least it must've been interesting." Penelope wondered out loud.

"Actually..." You winced. "He'd hardly even been done with his introduction before I'd filled in the online application. But I was very single, okay? And he'd already built up this celebrity status on campus." It felt nice to admit to it after years of harbouring it.

"Oh! You naughty little fangirl!" Penelope exclaimed.

"I'm not a fangirl! It's been years!" You groaned. You took it back. It didn't feel nice. You should've kept it to yourself.

"Who are you a fangirl of?" Spencer asked, putting a new glass in front of Emily and sitting back down by your side.

"You! She's a total groupie." Penelope betrayed you. You shot her a nasty look, but it went ignored by her drunken, self-satisfied glee.

"Is that so?" Spencer turned to you with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh yeah, total Reidiac. You should give her an autograph." Emily winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head at their antics.

The conversation moved on, but you felt the dynamic between Spencer and you had changed, even when unspoken. When Penelope and Emily were caught up discussing cats, Spencer leaned against your side, whispering in your ear once more. Unlike last time, he didn't break the tension, even when telling another fact.

"Garcia called you my groupie earlier. Do you know the textbook definition of the term 'groupie'?" His voice was huskier than usual, coated with the alcohol and late hour. You shook your head timidly, urging him to continue.

"A groupie is typically explained as a young woman who regularly follows a celebrity, especially in the hope of having a sexual relationship with them." His lip brushed against your ear as he whispered the words. A cold chill went down your spine at his insinuation.

"You're no celebrity, Spence." You answered apprehensively. He didn't move, still leaning into your side, out of sight. You couldn't gauge his expression.

"Maybe not in the classic sense of the word. But I have a Wikipedia page. Surely, that amounts to some celebrity status." He joked. You closed your eyes, tension slowly disappearing after the vibe of the conversation changed back to casual banter.

Was he insinuating what you thought he was?

You got your answer as soon as the four of you headed to the hotel. You bid your goodbyes to Emily and Penelope before turning to put the keycard in the door to your room. You heard a couple of doors close, and just when you turned the handle, there was a hand on your shoulder, pushing you inside and closing the door. You whipped around, only to be faced with Spencer.

"Spenc-"

"You deflected earlier." He interrupted.

"Deflected what?" Your heart was racing. Whether from the shock of his sudden intrusion or the proximity, you weren't sure.

"The definition of a groupie. And how Garcia is right, you totally are one."

You gaped at the insinuation.

"Don't look shocked now! You are totally one of those girls who audit my class." He grinned.

"You wish! I'll have you know you were scrawny at best when you gave that one lecture I attended." You huffed, crossing your arms.

"Were scrawny? Past tense?" Spencer egged you on.

"Shut up. You know you've built up some muscle since then. Hell, maybe you even grew a couple of inches." You rolled your eyes.

Spencer decided to ignore the comment and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He finally pulled something out, looking way too smug for his own good. "I brought a Sharpie. You know, for your autograph."

Fine. If he wasn't going to stop this ridiculous teasing, you were going to cross the 'groupie' line.

"Oh my god! I like, totally want your autograph, Spency!" You started, looking him dead in the eyes as your hands made their way to the hem of your shirt.

"Will you sign my tits?" You challenged, lifting your top far enough to expose your bra to its fullest extent.

Spencer obviously hadn't expected that, struggling to come up with a quick-witted response. You shrugged as you took the shirt off.

"I see. You require a larger surface area. I get it. Big ego, bigger signature." Spencer finally broke when you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.

"Hey, hey. Stop. I can sign them like this just fine, sweetheart." You knew he was simply going along with the rockstar act, but the nickname sent blood rushing to your cheeks either way.

"Okay, hot shot." You smirked, pushing your chest out. He hadn't expected you to actually let him sign your chest. He scrambled to take the cap off. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Stand still. You want it to come out perfect, don't you?"

You held your breath when he brought the Sharpie up to your breasts. You looked at his face as he appeared laser-focused on giving you the best autograph of your life. Why was it that such a stupid joke felt like the most sensual experience of your life?

The tip of the Sharpie tickled as it danced across your chest. He finished the signature with a dot on the I in Reid.

"There, perfection." He whispered, but his eyes were no longer glued to your scantily clad upper body. You searched his face for hesitation but only found his determined gaze settled on your parted lips.

He made eye contact as if asking permission. You'd barely nodded before his hands cupped your face, and lips were on yours, sucking all the air out of your lungs. His body pressed up against your own, frantically shedding the layers keeping you separated. You kept kissing him while desperately reaching for his belt.

You hadn't noticed you'd slowly made your way to the bed in the back of the hotel room until Spencer pulled away to remove his tie. You let yourself fall onto the sheets, ridding yourself of your bottoms. They got stuck at your ankles as you forgot your shoes.

"I got it." Spencer's voice was unrecognisably hoarse. He kicked off his own shoes and made his way over to the bed in only his boxers. He tugged at your shoes after undoing the laces and discarded them somewhere in the room.

You'd never seen a sight quite like Spencer leaning over you as he rested one knee on the bed. He put his hand beside your face and you met his eyes. His head blocked the dim yellow ceiling light, lighting him perfectly from behind. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look, even in these stereotypically sinful circumstances.

"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked. Always considerate. What a gentleman.

"I've been sure ever since that stupid lecture, dork." You joked. Spencer smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss under your ear. His breath was hot on your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, down to his crudely placed signature.

You leaned on your elbows as Spencer reached behind your back to finally unclasp your bra. You let your back meet with the sheets again as he pulled the straps down your arms. You heard him take a deep breath as he took in the sight before him.

You pulled him down for another kiss, unsatiable now that you'd gotten a taste. His hands reached for your chest and experimentally pinched a nipple. You inhaled sharply through your nose. The combined sensation of his mouth and large hands on your body, as his hips sought more and more friction, was delectable.

His hands slowly reached further down, toying with the edge of your underwear.

"Don't tease." You whined, already too riled up.

"Patience is a virtue," Spencer murmured against the skin of your jaw, hooking his finger under the elastic band.

"Patience, my ass, Reid. I need you." It came out more desperate than you intended, but it seemed to do the trick. He yanked the underwear down your legs, followed by his own.

"Condom?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Don't care. I'm clean, and God knows you are. Wanna feel you." You answered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spencer laughed, taking his cock in his hand and running it through your folds.

"Have you met yourself? You won't even shake hands, Doct-oh, oh Jesus Christ." Spencer interrupted your banter by sliding inside in one go. You closed your eyes as you pulled him close, begging him to kiss you.

He slowly started moving as you regained your ragged breath. The low grunts falling from his lips against yours were magical, but you wanted more. Your fingers made their way up to his hair, tentatively tugging at the roots. Your grip tightened at a particularly harsh thrust, and Spencer's response was everything you were searching for.

"Holy fuck, oh my God- Uh-" His grunts slowly tuned whinier as you kept your grip on his hair. He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts.

"Look at me, baby." He moaned in your ear. He leaned back, and your eyes fluttered open, though with difficulty. Your instinct was to squeeze them shut with pleasure. He looked ravenous, pupils blown wide, panting with the physical effort.

You lazily wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him even closer.

"Shit, Spencer," you moaned as the new angle reached a spot inside you you'd only ever dreamed of. Your eyes squeezed shut again, unable to keep them open. Spencer removed the hand rubbing your clit and moved it to your chin, placing a small kiss on your lips.

"Eyes on me, come on. I know you can do it." He encouraged. Something about his coercive tone let you know there was a side to Spencer you had yet to see. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of his eyebrows furrowed with effort.

The noises coming from Spencer sped up along with the desperate pace of his hips. The combination of his whines with yours and the sound of skin on skin was anything but serene. You felt yourself nearing the edge, clawing at his back in an attempt to ground yourself.

"Spencer! Fuck, oh my god," it was hardly distinguishable what you were saying, mumbles of pleasure stringing together into an unintelligible mess. His cock slid again and again and- you couldn't take it.

Your hands left his hair in favour of running your nails harshly over his back. Spencer was seemingly a glutton for pain, moaning at the sensation.

"I- Shit, I'm gonna cum. D'you want me to pull out?" Spencer's thrust faltered. You knew you had to answer fast. You tightened your grip on him with your legs.

"Please, Spencer. Please come inside me. Want to feel you cum." You begged.

"Fuck, okay. Okay. O-" His head dropped down to your shoulder as his unrelenting hips sped up one more time, bringing you both to your high. You felt his cock twitch as your walls tightened around him.

"Spencer!" You shouted as you came, feeling him spill inside you.

"So good for me. So gorgeous. Perfect." Spencer mumbled as he peppered you with kisses, hips slowing down as he came down from his high. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.

Spencer carefully pulled out, making sure not to spill anything and soil the sheets. He stepped off the bed and spread your legs, before leaning back down and licking a drop of cum threatening to spill.

"Shit, Spencer! Too sensitive!" You pushed his head away. He laughed before heading to the bathroom, returning with a dampened towel.

The nighttime routine that followed felt domestic. You peed, brushed your teeth, ignored the sight of his signature and hickies on your boobs, and headed to bed.

"Can I borrow your toothbrush?" Spencer asked from the bedroom. He hadn't asked to stay. But then again, you hadn't asked him to leave. You didn't want him to.

"You just licked your own cum from my vagina, and you ask if you can borrow my toothbrush? Be my guest, Reid." You scoffed, lying down under the sheets.

"Hey, people have their preferences, okay? Didn't want to overstep." Spencer said as he returned from the bathroom, lying down beside you.

Against your better judgement, Spencer stayed. You knew the entire team would be up and around, bright and early. But you didn't care. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He left early the following morning. You were sure he hadn't had nearly enough beauty sleep. He could nap on the plane, you shrugged. There were no regrets from either party over the loss of sleep.

You hadn't thought too much about your outfit before heading down to breakfast. An honest mistake one can make when staying up late and getting up early. You were exhausted, let alone hung over. You realized your mistake when the ever-stoic eyes of Aaron Hotchner immediately snapped down to the tank top you were wearing the second you stepped out of the elevator, the words 'Spencer Reid' still obscenely sprawled across your chest, accompanied by several suspicious bruises.

Your eyes went wide as you followed his gaze, quickly zipping up your hoodie. How could you possibly have forgotten that part? You met Hotch's eyes. Before you could try to babble yourself out of this one, he held up a hand to stop you. "I don't want to know."

You clenched your lips as you nodded. "Noted, bossman."

The small smile tugging at the corner of his lips didn't escape you, and neither did the exchange of money between him and Rossi not 5 minutes later.

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slutforsfender · 1 year

Note

Can I request something where Sam is so cuddly and needy 🫶🏻

"I'm Never Letting You Go" (Request)

Sam Fender x Reader

You woke up wrapped up in Sam's muscular arms with the tightest grip. You smile at his touch and turn over in his arms to see him with a lazy smile.

"Mornin darling" Sam rasped out in his morning voice.

"Good morning my love" You smile and rest your hand on his cheek.

You lay there like that for a few minutes, just admiring each other. Skin to skin. Heart to heart.

"What's the plan today, pet?" He asks into the silence.

"Well I need to edit a song and send it off so that's going to be most of my day" You say, reaching over him to grab his shirt from last night.

You ignored the eye roll he gives as you put the shirt over my body.

"Well you need to eat first, race you downstairs" He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You both ran downstairs, Sam of course beating me. You laugh as he picks up, spinning me around and placing me on the counter. You stayed like that for five minutes, engulfed in each other's arms. God, I love this man.

Sam attempted to cook you bacon cobs and they weren't half bad for his cooking skills. Sam's hand of course was on you at all times being very needy this morning.

Once you guys cuddled for a while, you got dressed and got to work in our music room on the song while Sam was doing god knows what downstairs.

It was now a few hours later and you had been working on the song for a while. Sam was messaging you or shouting up the stairs every ten minutes. He even came and sat behind you, watching you for a while.

You was in the middle of working on the backing music for a song when you felt arms around my waist and you was suddenly thrown over a shoulder. You yelped but soon started laughing at Sam's neediness.

He placed you on our sofa downstairs with Netflix on the screen, several snacks and candles lit.

"Baby what are you doing?" You ask, looking at his ocean blue eyes.

"I missed you and I wanted cuddles" He said, making sure we were both comfy and passing me the remote.

"You are so cute" You said, placing a kiss to his soft lips.

You spent the rest of the night under blankets with lots of cuddles and kisses. It's fair to say Sam was very needy and you had no complaints. You would spend a million days there with him and nobody else.

"I'm never letting you go" You whispered into his ear and his eyes fell shut.

#sam fender concert #sam fender x reader #sam fender #sam fender smut #sam fender imagines #music #indie #imagines #imagine #fanfic #one shot #oneshot #request #i love you

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lucyandalexiafan · 2 months

Text

Need to be praised | Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x reader

Summary: after winning the most important home match of the Liga, the Clasico, it is even more clear how Alexia needs to feel loved, praised. You and Jenni plan a different evening than usual, hoping to help her.

Warnings: smut and light angst. dom!Jenni, sub!reader, sub!Alexia, oral sex, chocking on a strap, punishment (belt), safewords, daddy kink, use of pet names / slut, dirty talk, light degradation, praise.

Words: 6.6k

You enter your house, the sound of the door closing behind you.

There is silence.

Ale had fallen asleep in the back seat of the car as soon as you got into it.

The trip had been short, with some indie songs in the background.

Jenni’s hand had caressed your thigh the whole trip.

You were exhausted. You were coming back home after the umpteenth match, another match a few days after the last one. And it wasn't a normal match, it was the Clasico, the most important home game of the Liga with a sold-out stadium.

Alexia had felt the brunt of the responsibilities the most, being captain had made everything more complex, heavier.

Many, too many, responsibilities.

Moreover, there was that complex she had.

That one of no longer good enough.

Strong enough.

Talented enough.

Aitana had won everything possible.

Ale was happy for her, obviously, she had seen her grow up in Barça's youth team, she had taught her everything she could; but that doesn't mean something inside her wasn't burning, consuming her.

It wasn't envy, it was anger.

It was disappointment.

It was resentment.

Not to Tana, but to her knee.

Grudge over her ACL.

Hate for her knee, for the constant injuries she has.

And ever since Tana won the Ballon d’Or, the funny, smiling, Ale had faded away. It wasn't easy to see, to notice this constant state of pain, she was really good at hiding it. But you could tell she was tired, that she couldn't take all the pressure anymore.

She tended to vent this anxiety, this pressure, this anger, with sex, rough sex where her need for control could come out. But, because you were having so many matches and only a few days off, you couldn't, she couldn't, dedicate to yourself the time necessary to enter that necessary headspace, to even think about it.

And Ale was increasingly needy, but it was not a need to be in charge, to be the dominant one. Jenni and you talked about it two nights ago, when the blonde was at yet another technical meeting with the staff and you two were having dinner at home. She had asked you if you two could take care of Ale, to change your roles in bed for once; Jenni had pointed out that Ale really needed to receive compliments, to be told that she was good.

That she was enough.

To feel loved.

To feel appreciated.

You weren't familiar with this, much more comfortable being the good submissive, but she was right.

You take Ale's hand and pull it towards you.

You gently place your lips on hers.

You feel her relax at the contact.

Her lips are soft, sweet.

Your hand is threading through her hair, massaging her scalp.

She gasps at the contact.

“Amor, we would like to suggest something to you”

Jenni's voice interrupts your kiss.

It is low, horny.

Ale turns towards the older woman, your arms wrapping around her body.

You are in the middle of the hall.

Jenni is leaning against the kitchen doorframe, her gaze fixed on Alexia.

Sweet eyes, a barely visible smile.

You leave kisses on the Catalan's shoulder, as if to reassure her.

“We would like to take care of you, amor – she tells her as she approaches the blonde – to make you understand how perfect you are, to prove it to you”

Ale opens her eyes wide, her body tensing beneath your arms.

“You don't have to say yes if you don't want to - you add as soon as you realize how tense she is - But we thought that this could be the better moment, because we will have the next three days free"

She nods surprisingly quickly.

“I want it, please”

You stop the kisses.

Alexia always hated giving up control, always fighting also Jenni before letting it to her.

You glance at Jenni, the older woman smiles lovingly at the blonde.

“Already so good amor, my good girl” she tells her before placing her lips on the blonde’s ones.

The kiss is loving.

Romantic.

Slow.

Nothing to do with their usual kisses, the rough, passionate ones.

There is no struggle for control.

For being the one in charge.

For power.

Ale leaves to the raven the chance to direct it.

“Why don't you both go lie down in bed? I want you both naked"

You nod, taking Ale's hand, and then heading towards your room.

You take off her shirt slowly, helping her slide it over her arms, leaving chaste kisses on her chest here and there.

She moans, her hands in your hair.

Your hands grip the button on her jeans while you look at her asking for permission and, when she nods, you remove it from the buttonhole.

You push them towards her ankles and she kicks them away, leaving her only in underwear.

You quickly take off Jenni's hoodie and peel off your sweatpants.

You push her towards her bed, asking her to lie on her back, Alexia complies without responding.

A sense of tenderness invades you at the thought of how much she needs reassurance.

She lies down, head against the pillows, and you kiss her neck, the collarbones, leaving few marks along the line of the bone.

“You are so perfect Ale," you whisper before licking the skin between her breasts "So beautiful.”

She gasps, the grip on your hair harder.

“We will take care of you, you know that?" you kiss her abdomen, your lips in contact with every muscle, "You won't have to think about anything.”

She moans desperately.

“Please," she whispers, absorbed, "I beg you.”

“You are so needy, mh?”

“Yes, I need you so much,” she replies lost.

The low voice, a whisper.

Arms outstretched.

You touch the elastic of her panties with your lips.

She sighs.

"I beg you."

You slowly remove them, kissing her thighs and ankles as you go.

You observe her. The eyes are closed, her head tilted back, the lips parted while she sight, the back arched, her panting makes her chest rise maniacally.

She had never begged you.

Never.

“We have to wait for Jenni, amor," you whisper in amusement when she tries to push your head between her thighs, "Are you such a needy thing, aren't you?”

The obvious hesitation in your voice.

You don't know how far you can go.

How much can you point out that she is not in charge.

You're not even sure you know how to praise her.

She nods.

“Can you kiss me?”

The voice almost scared.

Hesitant.

Needy.

You push yourself towards her face.

You kiss her lips, the grip on your heart increases.

How insecure is she?

“Amor, I thought I said you should both be naked,” Jenni's voice fills the room.

You pant against the blonde's lips.

You kneel on the bed, your knees resting on the mattress on the side of Ale's hips.

You undo your bra, sliding it off your arms.

The captain moans beneath you, her hands squeezing your thighs, the grip almost painful.

“Take off your panties, amor, before I have to punish you – despite the loving voice, the note of dominance evident – This night is just for Alexia, isn't it?”

You nod quickly, scared of ruining everything.

To shift attention from Ale.

To stop you from taking care of her.

You stand at the foot of the bed, facing Jenni, and quickly take off your panties, letting them fall to your feet, then kicking them to your right.

You look at the floor, your head bowed, not having the courage to look the Madrilenian in her eyes.

The attention must be on Ale, but you don't know how to behave.

What to do.

What not to do.

Her feet enter your field of vision and you close your eyes when you see a hand move towards you.

She rests it on your cheek.

“I'm sorry daddy,” you whisper guiltily, cheeks burning for the embarrassment.

Ale moans openly behind you.

“It's okay amor,” she whispers before forcing your chin up, obligating you to look into her eyes “Ale is so beautiful that she’s distracting, it's normal that you've lost all sense of the rules. But don't do it again, or I'll punish you, okay?”

You nod.

“Yes daddy, I'm sorry.”

She smiles before kissing you.

It's not the sweet kiss she gave the blonde.

It's passionate.

Rough.

Her teeth bite your lip.

It's her way of showing off dominance.

To show that she is in control.

“Now I'll tell you what we'll do, okay?”

Her voice betraying not just horniness, but impatience.

Jenni loves to dominate and she loves having any form of control in bed.

“I will sit on this chair and you will put on a good show for me following my instructions, okay?”

“Yes,” you both answer in unison.

The response speed is almost astonishing.

The raven grabs your hair forcefully.

"What's my name?"

“Daddy,” you gasp in pain from the grip, "I'm sorry daddy.”

You bite your lips looking into her eyes, which are tainted by sadism. This version of Ale, this so submissive Ale, has to make her really horny.

Then, while she looks you strictly in the eyes, a grin appears on her face.

“What are your safewords?” she asks you.

“Green to continue, yellow to slow down, red to stop,” you respond.

She nods.

“Are these safewords okay for you, Alexia?”

She replies with a whispered, shy, “Yes, Jenni.”

“Can you tell me what we always say about using safewords, amor?”

“Which… that should be used if I need it,” she sighs hesitantly.

The Madrilenian smiles.

“Good girl,” she praises.

Ale and you moan in unison.

“Alexia, sit against the headboard with legs wide open - you feel Ale move, while Jenni's grip on your hair hardens - You get on your hands and knees, your back arched, your head between Alexia's legs,” Jenni directs.

She lets go of your hair, opening her hand.

She takes a step back, as if to give you enough space to do what she asked.

You look at her, lips wide open.

Does she want to punish you?

She tilts her face to the side, as if to warn you and exhort you to follow.

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” you whisper guiltily before turning towards the bed.

Are you already shifting the attention from Ale to you?

You can't look at the blonde because of the embarrassment of being naked, bent over like this, waiting for punishment.

Ale moans, her hands gripping tighten the sheet beneath her.

You rest your knees on the bed between her legs, and arch your back, shoulders brushing her thighs.

Your hands are on her thighs.

“Hands behind your back,” she commands.

You do it and try to adapt better to the position, to find a balance which in reality always turns out to be precarious.

You hear footsteps behind you, and from the way Alexia's body tenses you could swear Jenni is selecting items from the drawer.

You pant in anticipation.

A knot in your abdomen.

The smell of Alexia invades your nostrils.

You squeeze your thighs.

“Now I'll tell you how things will go,” she announces in an authoritarian tone. “Cariño, you broke the rules, so I'll spank you - her steps stop - And Alexia will decide how and how many times because she was a good girl, and good girls should be rewarded,” Jenni declares.

You moan without restraint, and the blonde does the same.

“You can decide everything, amor, how many blows, with what, if she should be tied up… everything. Because if you are good girls you can choose,” she tells her.

You bite the sheets, hands clasping together.

The nails in your palms.

Your pussy contracts around nothing, arousal starting to wet your thighs too.

“I... the belt - you widen your eyes at Ale's response - is it okay?” she asks Jenni hesitantly.

You close your eyes at the idea of the belt.

Ale loves to use it to punish you, she prefers it to any other object or the hands, while Jenni prefers hands, she says she loves the feeling of your body twitching under her touch. But when Jenni uses the belt to punish you, those few times, she does it harshly, while Ale is kinder, the blows she gives are softer, she loves to see how you jump when the belt comes into contact with the butt, not so much causing you strong pain.

“Of course, whatever you want, pretty girl,” Jenni concedes.

You groan, realizing how things are going to go.

You'll be their little toy, as always, but the dynamic is different. Jenni wanted this, she wanted you to disobey, so she could allow Ale to choose, to be in charge, praising her for every decision made under her guidance.

“How many times?”

“Ten,” the Catalan replies surprisingly confidently.

Jenni chuckles.

“You like when I punish our slut with the belt, don't you?”

“Yes, I like it,” Ale admits.

Her hands are now in your hair, and you gasp at the unexpected hold.

“Why, pretty girl?”

“Because of the noise that the belt makes when it hit her butt, because it leaves marks, because then she is always soaking wet”.

“Do you know why she is always wet?” Jenni replies to her as if you were not among them. “Because she is such a slut for us, for you.”

Ale and you gasp at the same time.

The humiliation, the degradation, which clashes with the sweet tone used with Ale.

The grip on your hair tightens, the nails penetrate the scalp.

“Please,” you whisper, not knowing whether to Ale or Jenni.

“So eager to be punished for us,” she muses.

You arch your back even more.

You hear a metallic noise, it's the buckle that makes the belt, and your body tenses in reaction.

“Do you want her tied up?”

“No - Ale replies - If-if she moves her hands-“

“Will there be more blows?”

You close your eyes at the idea.

They know that you don't know how to stay still when they punish you, that you need to be tied up if they want you not to move.

"No. Denial,” Ale pants, unable to explain herself better.

“As you wish, pretty girl.”

You clench your jaws, the opposition between the praise for Ale and the humiliation towards you is aphrodisiac, but your body is so tense that you know that the impact of the belt will be even more painful.

“Jenni, can I touch myself?”

You widen your eyes at Ale's request.

Ale doesn't ask permission to touch herself.

Ale touches herself, maybe she is then punished by Jenni, but Ale doesn't ask permission to do it. It is one of the most bratty behaviors that the blonde uses against the older woman.

The request probably also leaves Jenni dumbfounded, who is slow to respond.

“Please, I'll be good, I won't come without your permission.”

You moan.

You had never seen Ale so submissive, so in need of praise, to be good for Jenni.

“You can touch yourself, amor, but with this,” she says as you hear her walking. “And you can't come without my permission.”

Her hands leave your hair.

You try to look at her.

She leans over your body while Jenni gives her something, an object, that you recognize as a vibrator when you hear the sound of a vibration.

One of her hands comes to rest between her legs, the vibrator against her clit, the other one on her breast, starting to play with a nipple.

Then, the first blow hits your butt.

You scream in surprise, at the pain.

The body that tenses, moves towards Alexia's thighs.

“One, daddy, thank you,” you reply automatically like every time you get punished.

You hear her grinning.

Then another shot.

You groan.

“Two, daddy, thank you.”

The pain already starting to invade you and she continues to hit you with this force for the next five blows.

Alexia's moans invade the air.

“Can I… a finger,” she gasps, her thoughts disarranged.

“Yes amor, you can. Fuck yourself for me”

Ale moans, a grating moan, then you see her stick a finger inside herself.

You bite the sheet and, before you understand what you are doing, you place your hands on the mattress.

"You're such a slut who always wants to be the center of attention," the raven girl says angrily behind you "This was supposed to be Ale's night, but not only did you get to be punished, but you broke another time the rules"

You gasp, closing your eyes in humiliation, and try to fix your situation by repositioning your hands on your back, in the position you were supposed to hold. You hope it's enough, but you know it's not.

“I'm sorry daddy,” you whisper guiltily.

“Mm, really?” the teasing tone, the hands squeezing your ass between your fingers. "you're such an exhibitionist slut that I might think you were putting on a show for Alexia. Do you like it, pretty girl?”

Her hands are on your ass, squeezing the flesh, on the places where bruises will probably show up, and you groan in pain.

“Yes Jenni, so much.”

You gasp.

Usually, the dynamic is inverse. You're the good one, the one who gets praised, Ale is the one who breaks the rules on purpose to annoy Jenni.

The blonde's moans are getting closer and closer together, the hand that moves fastest inside her and she plays with the vibrator against her clit.

“Do you want to come, pretty girl?”

She pants, she begs her.

A blow, hard, impacts your ass.

You move forward, your body contracted by pain.

It hurts more than all the others, and is the same for the other two. You gasp, tears in your eyes.

“Can I come, Jenni? Please, I was good for you”

“Come for me, love,” Jenni's voice surprisingly gentle. "come for me, my perfect girl.”

Alexia comes screaming, her body shaking around you as she lives it to the end. she then turns off the vibrator, dropping it absentmindedly to her side.

"Jenni" you moan, your voice unsure, trembling, without really know what you want.

The pain pervades your body, your hands grab the sheet, clenching it between fists. You know you're breaking the rules again, but you need to touch something, to grip something, in an attempt to alleviate that pain.

You know it's Alexia's night, that you're there for her, that she needs to be praised, but you're not sure if this is the direction you want the night to take. The way she had squeezed your cheeks between her hands suggests how the evening could take a more sadistic turn, and less caring, and you're not sure if you want that.

The idea of being their toy makes you horny, the idea of being used turns you on, but you need to be praised too, to be told that you're good too.

You hear Ale's breathing calm down, Jenni bending over your body to kiss her. You lift your head, watching from below as their lips collide, as the blonde's hands end up in her hair, and as the raven grins against her.

You bite your lip, not knowing if you want to interrupt the moment or if it's better to let it continue.

"My pretty girl," the Madrilenian whispers as she moves away from Alexia, standing up again at the foot of the bed, "My two good girls," she says, her hand touching your back rubbing her nails lightly on it.

You gasp, the praise finally arrived, the kind lovely contact.

Your thighs clench in response.

"Amor, can you lie on your back?"

You do as she asked, without talking back, your skin burning at the contact with the fabric of the sheet, your hesitant hands ending up on Ale's shins, your gaze avoiding the one of the older woman.

"You're forgiven, amor," Jenni whispers before kneeling on the bed, her knees to the sides of your hips, "My good girl."

Then, finally, she kisses you. A slow, loving kiss and your hesitant hands draw her to you, seeking comfort. One of her hands lands on your cheek, thumb gently caressing your skin, the other on Alexia's thigh.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly once she moves away from your lips, her gaze trained on yours, her eyes sweet, a shy smile shapes her face.

"Yes daddy - you answer, your voice still trembling - Another kiss?"

The blonde moans at the sight of you two, between her legs, kissing.

Jenni takes her time to kiss you, her tongue licking your lower lip, her teeth nibbling your lips, then kissing the skin of your jaw, your neck.

She sucks a portion of skin above your collarbone, leaving you a dark red hickey, and you move your hands through her hair, your legs now bent on themselves tightening her body to you.

She grins, then bites the skin of your chest multiple times, leaving various marks next to the first.

"Daddy," you gasp again.

"What, little one?" she asks, her face now reclined towards you, her black eyes staring into yours.

You blush under her gaze.

"Please daddy touch me."

She licks her lower lip, then returns to kiss your chest, moving towards your breast. She bites your right nipple, one hand gripping the left between her fingers.

You arch your back towards her, your head brushing against the inner thigh of Alexia; and that's how two fingers of one hand of the blonde, that were gripping her thighs, end up against your mouth. She pushes them beyond your lips, against your tongue, and you gasp surprised at the intrusion. You tilt your head towards her, giving her more access to your mouth, and try to lick them.

You look into her eyes as she moves her fingers inside up to the last knuckle, thus reaching the back of your throat and making you gag.

Jenni, hearing the noise, stops kissing you.

You feel her observing you, and you have confirmation when Ale shifts her gaze from you to above you.

She smiles shyly.

The brunette gets up on her knees, moves them towards Ale, crawling on the bed, then kisses her again.

You moan at the lack of contact, at the cold hitting the saliva she left on your chest.

The blonde's fingers stop, entirely inside your mouth, the moment the older one's lips land on hers.

"Keep moving them," Jenni orders, and she does, moving them faster, "Like that, good girl, fuck her mouth."

You gasp, almost choking, when they hit the back of your throat rhythmically. You squeeze the raven's thighs with your hands as you push yourself a little further toward the end of the bed, seeking a more comfortable position.

"Do you want to fuck her mouth with the strap-on, pretty girl?" the brunette asks her.

Your eyes widen at the idea.

"Yes-yes Jenni, please."

Jenni leans in one last time, kissing her lips softly, then gets up from the bed again. You hear her walks back towards the cabinet and open the drawer; Ale's hand, wet from your saliva, is now resting against your cheek, the thumb caressing your skin.

You turn your head, your cheek against the mattress, and then absentmindedly kiss her inner thigh with your lips open, knowing how sensitive that part of her body is. And sure enough, she moans and you feel her other hand move from her thigh to your hair, squeezing it.

“So beautiful,” Jenni murmurs so softly that you almost don't hear her "My perfect girls".

You hear her walking to the side of the bed, and then sitting next to Ale.

You see her kiss her neck, and the blonde tilts her head back against the wall, giving her more space.

“Shall I help you put it on? - she asks, without really expecting an answer - Amor, lie on your stomach"

You roll onto your side, then onto your stomach, groaning at the feeling of the cold air against your cheeks.

You look at Jenni, she's still fully dressed, her shirt sleeves rolled up and the top buttons open, hair gathered in a low ponytail that leaves the shorter tufts free.

She helps the younger to wear the strap-on, her hands skimming Alexia's thighs, and you moan in anticipation.

“Move more towards Alexia - she orders when the blonde has finished preparing, her thighs even more open - Your head must be perfectly aligned with the strap-on. Exactly, like that, good girl” she praises you.

You moan, looking at her, but she's focusing on the blonde, her hand squeezing the woman's jaw, forcing her to look at her, then licking her bottom lip.

"Ready?"

The blonde nods and leans towards Jenni, her lips pressed carefully to hers, as if trying to figure out if the raven is okay with her resourcefulness. The older woman kisses her back, her hand on her cheek.

You moan, the pain between your legs growing more and more. The desire to touch yourself, to move your hand there and reach your orgasm, makes you squeeze the blonde's thighs tighter in an attempt not to do it, to be good for them.

“Alexia, you won't be able to touch her, I will decide the pace - Jenni's hand ends up in your hair, caressing it - Cariño, remember that if it's too much you have to tap Alexia's thigh three times and I will stop immediately, understand?”

You nod, your gaze fixed on the dildo. It's bigger than the one you normally use for oral sex, you bite your lip hesitantly.

“Words, not gestures” she warns you.

"Yes, daddy" the voice unsure, hesitant.

“I know you can take it all the way, be a good girl for me” Jenni urges you, her hand that applies enough pressure to push you to take it in your mouth.

You open your lips when the tip of the dildo touches them. Alexia moans in response, her hands gripping the sheet in an attempt not to touch you, not to break the rules.

The hand in your hair applies more pressure, pushing you to take more into your mouth. When you take about half of it into your mouth you moan, the choking sensation creeping in and you feel your hair being pulled upwards.

“Relax your throat, I want you to take it all in your mouth” you hear her order, and then apply pressure again.

You try to breathe through your nose, the saliva pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as you take in more than half, the tip hitting your throat, making you squirm.

“Shhh, stay still - you close your eyes trying to calm your breathing and breathe through your nose, your hands gripping Alexia's thighs more tightly - Good girl. Now move on it, like this, yeah,” she instructs, pushing her hand up, relieving the pressure, and then applying it again.

You go on like this for a while, the blonde's moans are the only other sound besides what you make.

“Do you like seeing her choke on your cock, pretty girl?”

“Yes… yes Jenni” she replies quickly, her voice breathless.

You close your eyes when the hand puts more pressure on the back of your neck, pushing you to take even more into your mouth, until you come into contact with the harness. The tears wetting your cheeks.

The moan that comes out of Ale's mouth is so grating, so low, that you've never heard it before.

Then, Jenni's hand pushes you upwards, until you no longer have the dildo in your mouth.

You moan for air, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the strap-on.

“My good slut, so good at sucking cocks. We should just use you for this, right?” her thumbs clean your cheeks “making you my cock slut, used only for this, mh?”

You contract your thighs, rub them against each other, in an attempt to give yourself a minimum of pleasure.

“Now go back and suck it as the good slut I know you are, do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, then place your head back on top of the dildo.

Your lips surrounding it, her hand pushing you back down until you take more than half of it into your mouth. She leaves you like this for a second, and then begins to set a fast, frenetic pace.

You whine as you feel the blonde's thighs contracting rhythmically under your hands every time you lower your head.

“Jenni… Jenni, can I come? Please, I was so good”

“Come for me Ale” she orders while her hand pushes you to the base.

You choke on it, your saliva wetting her thighs as Jenni forces you to move rhythmically on it.

The base of the dildo that put pressure on her clit, her moans getting closer and closer.

“I’m coming… I’m-“

You feel her coming, her thighs contracting beneath you as you hear her scream, the madrilenian's hand continues to push you towards the base of the dildo, allowing her to fully ride out the orgasm.

“St-stop” Ale pants, and the hand quickly disappears from your hair.

You immediately pull away, moaning at the feeling of air in your lungs, saliva binding you to the fake cock, tears in your eyes. You cough a couple of times gasping for air.

“Look at me” the Madrilenian orders you and, when you do, her hand moves towards the saliva, wetting four fingers, and then spreading it on your cheeks.

“Our slut, so obedient. My cock slut”

She grins as you take a finger into your mouth, sucking it down to the base. Her eyes widen slightly, surprised by your boldness.

Alexia turns her head towards her, kisses her neck, sucks some portion of her skin.

“No marks, Alexia”

“Mhmh” the younger one replies distractedly as she continues to kiss her neck.

You take you off her finger with a snap.

“Please daddy, I was so good… fuck me”

She grins looking at you, almost as if Ale wasn't kissing her.

“Yes daddy, fuck her” the blonde supports you, whispering those words directly into contact with her skin.

Jenni's eyes widen when the blonde calls her that.

She bites her lip, her hand ends under your neck. “Come here, sit on my lap”

You rush to do it, hoping for contact.

“Kiss Alexia” she orders you and, without wasting time, you turn towards the blonde and place your lips on hers.

It's a slow, passionate kiss, done just to put on a show, a private show for Jenni, just for her.

“My good girls” she pants as you feel her lips touching your neck, one hand grabbing your breast, the other on your butt.

You break away from the kiss and then look into Jenni's eyes, your fingers move toward her shirt.

“Can I undress you daddy?” I ask shyly, hoping for an affirmative answer.

She looks at you, eyes trained on yours; you try to make the cutest puppy eyes and, caught up in trying to convince her, you move your lips to her sensitive spot, the one under her earlobe.

“Please, daddy, I was so good for you”

“Okay,” she replies, and you smile against her.

You kneel, a couple of feet away from her body. Your hands grab one button after another, undoing them from the buttonholes, and then you help her remove the shirt, leaving her chest bare, her breasts covered by a simple black bra.

You look at her body, get lost in observing her tattoos, her defined muscles, and touch the straps of her bra.

She unhooks it, letting it fall onto her lap.

You bite your lip in front of her swollen nipples, you want to kiss them, lick them, but you know that to do so you have to have her permission.

“Can you undo my pants?” she asks you, urging you to do so.

You nod, your hands moving down to the waistband of her pants, undoing them and pulling down the zipper.

Jenni pushes them, and her underwear, towards her knees and you crawl backward, pulling them towards her ankles, then throwing them on the floor.

“Take the black strap from the drawer,” she orders, and you quickly move toward the cabinet.

You hear her tell Alexia to take off the harness and lie down on her stomach, immediately followed by noises.

“Good girl”

You turn around and see her lying between her legs, her head against her chest, the younger girl's hands are in the raven's hair, her head tilted back.

“So sensitive”

You bite your lip at the sight, the pain in your belly getting stronger, more and more needy to have an orgasm.

Alexia moans when the brunette bites her nipple, but she doesn't have time to realize it because the older one moves further and further down, toward her pelvis.

“My perfect girl”

You are standing, in front of the cabinet, not knowing what to do, what to say.

“Amor, lie down next to Alexia, on your stomach, legs open. Give me the strap”

Quickly you lie down next to Alexia, hoping for contact, for relief.

Jenni grins at the sight of your desperation, at the sight of how needy you are.

“Kiss her” she orders you.

You place your lips on hers, a hesitant, sweet, light kiss, as if you were afraid of hurting her. Your hand on her cheek, thumb caressing her skin, and she bites your lip, pulling it towards her, making you gasp.

“Daddy please” you beg, in a moment of pause in the kiss, your forehead against Alexia's one.

You look at the raven woman and find her wearing the strap-on.

“Here's what we'll do now: I'll fuck Alexia, while you kiss her, and then, if you deserve it, I'll fuck you”

You look at her pleadingly.

You need to be touched, to come, to have attention.

"Daddy, please"

"Safeword?"

You swallow your saliva not knowing how to respond. You know you don't need to stop, you want to see Alexia get fucked by Jenni, but you also know you need physical contact. You don't want to be selfish, shift the attention onto yourself, Jenni has said several times that this was supposed to be Alexia's night and you need to be her good girl, to be praised for it, but you need to be touched, to feel loved.

"Amor?" she asks, her voice softest, as she kneels on the bed, her knees on either side of your body.

“Yellow,” you whisper without looking into her eyes, scared to see disappointment there.

“Do you need us to stop?”

You shook your head quickly. "I... can I come then? Please Daddy, I'll be good, I swear"

She smiles, her lips kissing yours. "Yes, little girl. Be my good perfect girl and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, mh?”

You swallow saliva at the praise, at the promise of relief.

"No more teasing? Promise?" you ask.

She grips your jaw gently, forcing you to look at her. "Look at me, little girl. I promise. And if it's too much you stop me, okay? Do you promise me?"

You blush under her serious yet sweet gaze.

"Promise" you whisper, then you turn your head towards the blonde and go back to kissing her, a more passionate, rougher kiss.

You hear Jennie laughing while she gets up and then positions herself between Ale's legs, her fingers teasing her folds, moving inside her with a slow rhythm. “Ready, pretty girl?”

"Please Jenni, please-"

And, without waiting for other words or begs, she enters her.

Alexia arches her back in response, her head tilted towards the wall. Your lips attach to her neck, you kiss it, you bite it; you move one hand towards her breast, playing with the nipple.

The blonde moans as Jenni begins to move into her slowly, giving her time to adjust.

But you don't have time, you want to have your orgasm, be touched, be fucked.

You turn her face towards you, your lips on hers again, and you pull her nipple harder, passing tell between your fingers.

When Jenni starts to move with a fast, sharp, pace, Alexia pulls away from you, her hands on Jenni's back, her legs around her body, her lips against hers.

You bite your lip as you look at them.

The older one moves at a faster and faster pace, while the blonde moans closer and closer, more and more desperately.

The pain in your belly increases at this sight, desire burns inside you.

“Are you closed,?” she asks, her voice low, hoarse, even if it seems more like a statement.

"Yes, yes daddy, I'm closed - Alexia moans uncontrollably, her head tilted back - may I come? please daddy, make me cum”

You contract your thighs hearing her beg, hearing her calling Jenni daddy. You push towards her neck, kissing it, while Jenni kisses the other side.

“Cum for me amor” she whispers against her ear.

Alexia, shortly after, arches her back even more, a scream leaving her lips, her eyes closed and her forehead wet with sweat.

Jenni continues to move into her until her orgasm is over, then slowly pulls out of her.

She kisses her lips, her cheeks. “My perfect girl, you did so good”

The blonde gasps, unable to form any thoughts, any sentences. Her chest rhythmically contracting, her breathing quickening.

“Lie on your stomach, on your elbows and knees” Jenni orders, without even looking at you, while still kissing Alexia.

As if awakened from a stupor, execute quickly. Your back arched obscenely, your head close to Alexia's, your hands above your head, your legs open.

“Fucking soaked, who would have thought that our slut likes to look as well as be looked at”

Her voice is low, hoarse, and she says it while her finger grazes your folds, from your clit to your hole.

You arch your back even more, seeking contact.

“Daddy, please, ple-aaa” you scream when her lips press against your folds, her tongue exploring it, teasing your clit.

You clench the sheets in your fists, rhythmically push your body towards her, seeking relief, seeking your orgasm.

You feel her finger rest against your hole, then enter you effortlessly, and then another.

“So soaked - hand moving, straight away, furiously - My slut”

“Yes… yes daddy, your slut”

She bites your cheek, and you groan in pain.

“Please, I beg you… please daddy”

She smiles against your skin, a third finger adding.

You push towards her quickly, sprawling, the orgasm advancing in you.

You feel it.

“Are you closed?”

You nod into the mattress.

“Yes daddy, please, can I come?”

She bites your ass, then removes her fingers from you, but you don't even have time to notice because her cock enters you.

You scream with pleasure.

One of her arms ends up around your neck, forcing you to your knees, your back against her body.

She immediately moves fast, hard, inside you.

“My slut, only mine. So needy, so desperate”

"Yes... yes daddy" You moan, not knowing what to say to her.

She tightens her grip around your neck, her other hand pinching a nipple, the thrusts more and more frantic, faster, while she moans against your ear.

"Wait for me to come"

You close your eyes and shake your head. “I can’t, daddy I can’t… please”

“Wait me, be my perfect girl” she replies as she fucks you even harder.

You contract your body in an attempt to slow the orgasm that is building within you. “Please daddy, please”

"Cum, cum for me”

#woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso smut #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso fanfics #jenni hermoso imagine #alexia putellas fanfics #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas #Alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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reiderwriter · 9 months

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Margaritas and Mistakes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!

PART TWO!

You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.

“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.

“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”

“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.

“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”

“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.

“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”

“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”

You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.

“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.

“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.

“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”

“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.

“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”

This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.

“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…

–X–

After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.

You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.

Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.

“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.

“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.

“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.

“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.

“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.

“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.

“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.

“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.

“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.

“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"

“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.

“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.

“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.

“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.

“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.

“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.

–X–

Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.

After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.

So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.

But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.

But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.

He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.

You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.

“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.

“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.

Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.

“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.

You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.

Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.

“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.

“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.

“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”

“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.

“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.

“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.

“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.

“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”

They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.

“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.

“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.

“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.

The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.

“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”

“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”

“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.

–X–

Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.

“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.

“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.

“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.

“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.

“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.

“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.

“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.

Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.

“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.

“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.

“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.

As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.

You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.

“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.

“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.

He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”

“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.

“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”

And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.

PART TWO

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