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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months

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Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids.

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it.

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying”

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements.

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you.

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit.

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin.

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝? – Han x FEM Reader!

cw : guitarist and singer, rockstar, semi public sex, concert, bfwb to lovers, little bit crazy, perm han, love your thighs

sw : choke kink, biting, oral (both), piv, unprotected sex, humping, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names, MDNI.

wc : 6.600 words

synopsis : You and Jisung have been friends since primary school. A unique friendship. He had a special personality, quirky, a bit manic in some ways. Whereas you were always shy and kept to yourself. You always supported him, even in his budding career as a rock star. You loved the way he held the stage. Unfortunately, this job deprived him of many of life's pleasures, such as sex. One day he made a suggestion which, despite your initial embarrassment, you did not refuse. You were also sexually frustrated because you had never found a man who met your standards. And Jisung was the perfect man. So you began to be best friends with benefits. One day he will start his performance with a new look that will drive you crazy and this will result in a long and hot sex session.

a/n : this is the third fic that I wrote here and I'm so happy to see that a lot of you really liked this plot so after some waitings here for you the full story !!! 🎀 Hope u enjoy this, let's see in the next one !!! 🤍🤍🥰

MASTERLIST

[ HARD SMUT ]

You and Jisung have always been best friends. You met him in primary school when you were just two kids. You still remember the afternoons you spent together eating snacks and helping him with his homework. He was truly a child full of surprises and talents, he could do anything and you followed him everywhere because you loved him. Jisung was a part of you, you shared everything with him. You were two completely different personalities: you were kind, calm, shy and quiet, and he was quirky, eccentric, talkative, who loved to be the centre of attention and show off his talents, but you knew that deep down he was a kind-hearted person, despite some of his peculiar behaviour that you could sometimes not understand. Jisung really was a personality in his own right. He was unique, and that was what made this friendship unique. No one was like Han Jisung. Like your best friend. And no one would ever be. Never. You were a part of each other and had made a promise to each other. Over time, even your different passions and paths had failed to separate you. You had a job that reflected your personality, a simple bartender and photographer, while he, with a brilliant personality, had become a big shot in music. A wonderful rock star. A lifestyle that perfectly reflected his: free, flamboyant, unique. Han Jisung was simply the rock itself.

Unfortunately, however, our duties often and willingly take us away from what is pleasurable. And indeed it did. Because of the time you spent between the café and the photo studio, you could rarely go out at night to find a man to take to bed. And the frustration was high; you felt the physical need to get laid like never before. To get rid of all the stress weighing on your shoulders. Jisung's situation was no different. With his life as a musician, between studio work and concerts scattered around the country or even on tour, he never had time to relax and indulge in his manly pleasures. He had always been a bit of a playboy in his high school days, you well remember him taking advantage of every party to get into bed with some girl. It was amazing how the next day he would tell you everything in detail and you would tease him about his performance in bed. He was so sweet and convincing when he told you about his talents in bed.

However, when he started to devote himself to music, everything changed. No more tales of strange performances in bed. On the contrary, he would tell you how frustrating it was not to be able to take anyone to bed because of lack of time and fame. If he was caught, he would surely end up in the middle of a scandal, and he was determined to avoid that. He hated having to apologise for indulging his pleasures. Also because you were aware of your best friend's strange habits in bed.

Yes, because Han Jisung loved to play strange bed games with anyone who came along. You were in eighth grade when he first told you about one of his crazy nights at a party. He had left bite marks all over the girl's body and had fucked her in a position that you weren't sure you fully understood when he described it to you. Even less did you think it was normal to prepare the girl with the neck of a wine bottle. But that was Jisung, as special in bed as he was in real life.

Sometimes you were afraid of what she might do when you were not around. He was a strange personality and you loved that about him.

Every once in a while, before he went off to the studio for rehearsals or the release of a new album, he would drop by to tell you about the latest happenings over a good cup of coffee. He remembered how you take it from your high school days and loved to bring you breakfast every morning and tell you about the previous day. It gave you the feeling that nothing had changed over the years. You and Jisung were still the same kids in primary school, fighting over which stickers to put under the desk to make it your own.

You loved this side of your friendship, you felt more and more connected to him in every way, it was as if the longer you went on, the more nothing changed. It warmed your heart and you were grateful. You followed him to every concert in the country, leaving the café under the leadership of your clique of friends. Occasionally you took the opportunity to travel and see his concerts around the world, and when you couldn't join him, he would call you and you would stay up all night. He would always send you videos of where he was going, full performances just for you. You were his privileged fan and he loved it all.

Whenever he came back from tour, you would find him at your door with two beers and two pizzas, ready to spend the next two days with you, telling you about his colourful life away from home while on tour. And you smiled broadly when he told you of his madness and when he held you close to him after months of not feeling the contact of your body and the scent of your skin, which he loved madly. You remember how many times he told you how much he loved your perfume, whether it was some new scent you had bought or the simple smell of your skin after a hot winter shower.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of having a Han Jisung as your friend, as your best friend. It was like having a holiday home all to yourself, only in this case the holiday was for life and nothing could change that fate. Not even his crazy ideas about you, or those strange illuminations he had at night, telling you to follow him through the streets at four in the morning, or to play in the playground.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was so strange to think about how you had ended up in that situation with Jisung. Him naked at your side, caressing your skin with his lips.

One day, you remember exactly when and how it happened, you were eating a good kebab, he was complaining about how frustrating his life was since he could no longer take anyone to bed with him. You were about to choke on your beer when the idea came out of his mouth. "Yes, we could help each other! You give me pleasure and I give you pleasure. It's a fair deal, see? So I can show you my talents, you who have heard so much about them for so long," he said excitedly, clapping his hands. Do you remember how you looked at him in shock, your cheeks almost burning? You almost didn't choke on your salad. You were embarrassed, you didn't think your best friend could think such things, with you too. With you. Did Jisung really want to fuck you? You were a bit afraid that it would ruin your friendship. But on the other hand I felt he was right, you were the only one he could go with and he was the only one you had time to spend with. It was an offer with merit, and in the end quite tempting. You were shy, but at the same time you didn't want to turn down the offer, after all Jisung was your best friend, what could go wrong that it wouldn't work out? after all, no man reflected your standards and Han Jisung was really the perfect man. Muscular body, slim waist and long legs. Strong arms, a beautiful face with a predatory look. Jisung was simply ethereal.

"Jisung, are you sure about what you are asking me?" you asked, still a little incredulous. "Of course, Princess. I trust no one but you, and among other things, your body is wonderful, you have gorgeous thighs, I would love to stick my face in them." He whispered in your ear, making you blush. You hadn't expected him to be like that. This boy was a constant surprise. He bit your neck, then took a sip of beer and blinked at you. He was going to drive you crazy, you were more than sure. No one could make you like him, it was amazing the power he had over you.

You sighed and looked at him, "All right, I'm in, but don't get any strange ideas Han". You continued to eat as a huge grin appeared on his face.

And when you saw him grinning, you knew it was over for you.

That's how you ended up where you were now, in Han Jisung's arms, naked in his bed. Secretly, perhaps not so secretly, you loved the way he drew strange patterns on your skin, the way he kissed you and branded your breasts. You were always at his mercy. You caressed his warm stomach skin as he almost massaged your shoulder with his eyes closed. You felt him move underneath you to reach for the water and take a sip before he kissed your hair and began to slide his hand down to your bottom, cupping it in his hands and letting out a giggle. He was amazing, that boy, he would never change.

He ran a hand up your back, cupping your neck from behind and letting the back of your neck tilt back, biting your lower lip and pulling it towards him as he massaged your buttocks. You loved the little touches he would give you after a long session of sex. Also because he had worn you out enough that night. You knew how crazy he was in bed, he always proved it to you, and this time he had only confirmed the theory. He had chosen to eat you, laying you on your stomach on the mattress and taking your legs, wrapping them around his neck as he teased your hole with two fingers. You loved it when he pulled at your pussy lips with his teeth, it drove you crazy the way he squeezed as if he wanted to pull them away from you. "What are you thinking about?" He distracted you from your thoughts, you giggled as you thought about him and what you had done in bed just before. "About you and your extraordinary sexual performance," you laughed and then planted a soft kiss on his lips. He patted your bottom as he burst out laughing and covered his face, then rubbed it and rested on his elbows. His chest was full of your marks, as were your breasts. He had enjoyed branding you that night.

"I have a concert tomorrow, are you coming? I will be wearing a new look and there will be a new song on the set list, I hope you like it, Princess." He smiled and then slipped under the covers and catapulted himself over your body, laughing and kissing your stomach. "Of course I'll come, Jisung. I could never miss a concert of yours. I'm curious too. What are you going to do? Will you come back with blue hair like in high school?" you scoffed. He knew how much you had loved that high school period; blue hair had been your favourite look.

He smiled and jumped out from under the covers, towering over your body, your naked intimacies colliding and making you moan. It was literally driving you crazy. "No, something sexier, I have a performance in store that will blow your mind and you will be in the VIP station with backstage access. I need my princess to recharge, in fact I'm feeling very tired right now, I need a healthy recharge." He grinned. And that sneer could only mean one thing with Han Jisung. Another round. This guy really never got tired when you went to bed. "You really are a lost cause, Han," you said, stroking his hair as he rested his chin on your belly. "And you adore me so much." He laughed, then reached between your legs and began to bite your thighs. He loved your thighs and told you so every time you fucked.

"You have no idea how much I love the taste of your skin under my lips." He whispered, still licking away traces of his cum that were present along your thighs. Another thing you loved about fucking was the fact that you were both clean, no protection and on the pill. So he would release inside you and you loved the feeling of the heat spreading inside you.

He kissed your intimacy and began to slowly run his tongue over it as he cupped your thighs. He took a bite and began to penetrate you with his tongue. He may have given you heaven on a silver platter. He squeezed your buttocks and continued to move his tongue inside you, nimbly moving his hot muscle which, on contact with your already hot walls, seemed to plunge into the hidden, fiery caves of the pleasure circle. He broke away to get some air and took the opportunity to bite one thigh and continue to leave marks all over it, again not stopping there but continuing up the thigh as well. "You cannot understand the desire I have for you. You are delicious. My favourite dessert." He slid two fingers together with his tongue to spread you as wide as possible, even though you were not tight because of the act he had already performed earlier; it wasn't your first time together but he wanted you to be not only comfortable but as pleasurable as possible. He didn't mind giving you pleasure vicariously, especially as he knew how much you enjoyed his actions. He began to move his fingers inside your opening, almost simulating the same movements as his tongue, only the latter went much deeper. From two fingers he went to three and he was sure that he had uncovered your sensitive spot because you moaned. And that could only make Jisung competitive. He started to hit that spot while he used his tongue to lubricate it, after all, no one forbid you to come several times in one night.

The more he looked at your naked body, the more Jisung blinked with eyes filled with lust. Caught in a burning passion that could only be stopped by satisfying it, the boy held your thighs tightly and pushed himself into you for the umpteenth time, almost exhausting you. So he was surprised when he saw you rise, but without a word he let you go to see how far you would go. And so he eased you down, laying on the back of your bed that had accommodated you until then, before moaning hoarsely as he fully felt your tight walls welcoming his member from head to toe, "Holy shit baby...you are so tight, how is it possible that I just fucked you."

He placed his veiny hands on your tight waist to help you move as uncontrollable moans and gasps escaped from both your lips. You were about to reach the climax, but it was too soon for him to stop this inexplicable pleasure; he would have gone on indefinitely just to hold you and fuck you. He smiled mischievously as he watched you gain confidence and begin to jump on his member faster and faster. You grabbed his neck, pulling his hair back, and he made you tighten your grip, looking at you with piercing eyes. "Don't be afraid to hurt me Mummy - do whatever you want to me. You have no idea how much you drive me crazy." He whispered convincingly as he moved closer to your ear before relaxing under your captivating touch. You loved having that effect on him. To see when you were fucking tired after long sessions without having to see him squeeze you into strange positions. Jisung was enchanting in everything he did, which drove you crazy.... You felt completely at his mercy.

You groaned when you felt him bite your shoulder and turned around to see the teeth marks on your shoulder.

He giggled in amusement and took your chin in one hand and kissed you hard while holding your side with the other, helping you to move faster and faster.

You grinned to yourself, especially when you saw how helpless Jisung was against your touch. "Please make me cum, you're so good, fuck Princess" he moaned into your ear.

Your tongues intertwined as you sought each other out. You sucked on the older man's as you rose and fell on his intimacy. You loved the feel of his hands gripping between your waist and buttocks; it was a sensation that went to your head. "Do you want to come? Who am I not to please you, baby?" You smiled amiably, but with a hint of mockery, not because you wanted to tease him, but because you wanted to provoke him further. You wrapped your hands around the young man's neck and pressed your now joined bodies closer together. You continued to thrust until you tightened around the young man's length and poured yourself onto him. But it was not over there, he had not yet come and you had regained your strength to finish there. You had to give him his endurance for the performance. You continued to move quickly on his member until you were close to his ear. "Why don't you fuck me, hard, use me, cum inside me". You were provoking him. And who was Han Jisung to deny you that? You pulled away and licked the line that connected the beginning of his jaw to his chin. You loved provoking him, it was his favourite part. Especially to see his reaction.

He took you by the neck and pulled you closer to his face, barely laughing at your words. "Oh, but baby doll, we're not done yet." As he spoke, he had brought his free hand to your intimacy to collect some of your moisture, which he immediately brought to his mouth, not taking his eyes off you for a moment, wanting to enjoy your expression as you realised he was tasting you. And that drove you crazy. You loved the look Jisung always reserved for you. He licked his fingers and then looked at you with a mocking grin, determined to take what was coming to him. His member ached from how hard it was and he didn't want to waste any more time, "Do you want me to use you, baby doll, mh? Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered lasciviously in your ear before grabbing your waist again with both hands, squeezing you and holding you still as he had you lie back against the mattress and began to thrust hard and fast on your sensitive spot again. The uneven rhythm allowed Jisung to enjoy your screams as he picked up the pace after a short pause. It was like music to his ears, so much so that he soon found himself moaning along with you. "Fuck baby you are so tight. How I love this feeling." He whispered into your ear. You were crazy about this Jisung. You worshipped him. "Mh...fuck Jisung faster please, I could come again at any moment..."

The last thrusts were harder than the others, he poured himself completely into you, moaning your name in the climax, followed by you, now exhausted.

"You have no idea what I have in store for you tomorrow baby, it will be the most memorable fuck of your entire life. Even the walls will fucking know your name." He laughed, then bit your thigh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It had been a tough day at work, you hadn't heard from your best friend and you were sure he was getting ready for the concert that would be this night. In fact, you had already planned your outfit for the evening: a black sheath dress over the thigh with a braid on the chest, a leather jacket and your beloved black knee-high boots. You had also thought of a make-up that would drive Jisung crazy and bring out the colours of your skin.

As soon as you got home, it didn't take you more than two minutes to catapult yourself into the shower and wash up. You were ready in no time, and when you looked in the mirror for the first time in months, you felt really pretty. Beautiful, in fact.

You were really curious about what Jisung had in store for you that night. He had been teasing you until he left your house the day before. He had said that he was going to change his look and you were sure that he was going to do something to his hair as it was the first thing that usually he would change. But you were also very curious about the song he was going to perform in preview this night, as it had not yet been released on any platform. You were sure he would come up with something sexy, as he usually did when he came up with these sudden things. You giggled to yourself. As you grabbed your last things and left the house, you had a smile on your face, happy and curious to see this new side of Jisung. You didn't even need a note, because by now your best friend's security and staff knew you well, not least because you had been caught making out in his dressing room a couple of times and Jisung had been forced to reveal everything to his manager, who had teased him about being desperate. You remember laughing at the look on Jisung's face at that moment.

When you arrived at the entrance to the park where the concert was to take place that night, you were greeted by the staff who escorted you to your reserved seat in the VIP box. Whenever Jisung gave a concert, you felt important just because you were accompanied by his bodyguards. You usually visited him before each concert, but this time you didn't want to spoil the surprise. You wanted to discover his much-vaunted new look at the same time as the performance. You bit your lower lip when the announcer started talking about Jisung and the concert as an introduction, and tugged at your lip fur when the first VCR started. Jisung was truly breathtaking; you had never seen a boy with such refined beauty. He had such delicate and sweet features, but at the same time he was so masculine. Every time you looked at him, you were amazed that his petite body was so well defined and muscular. He was just spectacular. Maybe he was the only guy you would want to fuck no matter who your best friend was. Jisung was the kind of guy you thought was perfect just the way he was. You wondered what he would be like as a boyfriend. But perhaps your mind began to fantasize too much about a hypothetical and almost unlikely relationship with him.

When Jisung appeared a few minutes later and greeted everyone with a big smile, the staff almost had to bring you a glass of water to get you back. It was his usual winking look, that look that drove you crazy, especially when he stuck out his tongue and raised his eyebrows. But it was not that that had particularly impressed you. It was the long-awaited "new look" he had to show off. Her hair was permed, it wasn't quite curly, but he'd waved it to set off his face. It was simply stunning. He wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black trousers that dangerously bandaged his toned legs, and his beloved ankle black boots. Not to mention the inexhaustible amount of jewellery he always wore. You could even see his gleaming nose and lip piercings from under the stage.

His eyes caught yours and he winked, and for the first time you actually blushed under his amused gaze. He licked his lips and craned his neck, then approached the microphone. "I want to dedicate this song to someone special. It's new, you've never heard it before, and I want to give you a sneak preview. It's called 'Don't Say'," he finished, picking up his electric guitar and starting to sing. Your lips were open, Jisung made you tremble when he sang, he was really born to be on stage. He had the air of a rock star. His movements, his voice. He was magnificent. You started to feel hot when he threw his knees over the edge of the stage to start a guitar solo. How crazy he made you when he played, he really made your head spin. With that tongue stuck between his teeth, that defiant look. And then that hair, that curly hair falling down over his face, it really drove you crazy. You felt that night that you could have let that boy do anything to you.

You imagined what it would be like to pull his hair like that, to have those curls trapped between your fingers, your fingers trapped in those curls. You bit your lower lip so hard that you felt blood coming out from too much force. You imagined Jisung on top of you, fucking you so hard that you went crazy, arching your back and rolling your eyes. He was the only one who could make you feel like that. You knew that. You had had enough experiences in your life and Jisung, your best friend, had been the best. Now you understood and mostly believed what he told you about his performance in bed, because you had experienced it yourself on your skin, on your body. Jisung could do it, and that drove you crazy. You would have wanted him all to yourself, all the time. Not just for simple fucks, although they weren't that at all. He would take care of you afterwards, spend time with you. You weren't just a one-night stand. Or just a one-night stand friend. Jisung was in love with you, and if you had only understood the way he looked at you, you would have realised it much sooner. He adored you so much. But just seeing him on stage with that erotic look on his face as he smoothly ran his fingers over the guitar strings made you realise how attractive he was even when he was doing normal things. You were crazy about him, and you realised it just by watching him play.

When he unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt during his speech, leaving only two, you squeezed your thighs because you were soaking wet. You were sure that Jisung would tease you even more if he saw you in that state. That was typical of him. He loved to see you under him, moaning and trembling at his touch. Well, how could you not when he reserved that feline look for you. Normally Jisung had such big eyes that he looked like Bambi, you always called him "Squirrel Boy" because of his cheeks or "Bambi Boy" because of his eyes. But when you were under him and he was fucking you, his look was that of a hungry panther who would not be easily sated by you. You were very sure of that. Also, because when you were in bed, the rounds were always three or two, you remember how he once lasted until dawn. It was one of your best fucks.

You returned the look he had reserved for you for a few moments, and you quickly realised that he wanted to take you backstage with him after the concert. You were a little scared after what happened last time, when you were caught. You thought he was a bit of an exhibitionist. Also because it was to be expected, given his personality.

His manager came to see you in person, rolling her eyes; she knew exactly what was coming, and maybe you did too. Jisung was a lost cause. You bit your lower lip again and made yourself comfortable on the small sofa in his dressing room while the manager asked for the door. "Please be discreet, don't make too much noise." She giggled, sending a trail of blush down your cheeks. You looked around and waited for your best friend to arrive, probably stuck at the meet and greet taking pictures with fans. All the more reason for you to be quiet. Or at least you were the one who had to keep a certain voice tone. Every time you fucked the morning after, you had to drink one of those hot herbal teas with honey. And that had always made Jisung sneer and boosted his ego.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

About half an hour after you arrived in his dressing room, the elder's slender, toned figure peeked through the door, his neck craned to one side with his customary wink. He watched you as he finally unbuttoned his shirt and pulled back his semi-curly hair.

He approached you slowly, as if to support the pace of a panther, as if to seduce you. It was an erotic vision. His unbuttoned shirt revealed his toned tan chest, the two nipple piercings reflected in the room as he licked his lips, playing with the piercing in them. You tightened your legs and lost your breath and he noticed it well. "So I see you enjoyed the show quite a bit, very much so my new look, did you?" He laughed as he spread your legs with one knee and rubbed it against your wet cunt. You were unable to respond, as if the cat had really eaten your tongue. In this case, the cat was him. "I can see that you enjoyed it very much. Look at you, princess, all wet just for me." He whispered on your lips and then began a ravenous kiss. He wanted to devour you and you gladly let him.

"You don't know how much, Jisung," you rested your head on the back of the sofa you were sitting on. "Oh, well, I really do notice it, Princess. But you have to be quiet until we reach my apartment, let me tease you a little now," he grinned and then lowered himself between your legs and began to take long bites of your thighs. He loved your thighs, he had told you so many times since you had become what you were at this moment: best friends with benefits. It seemed almost strange to say, but it was true. Although you thought of Jisung as something more than just friends. Who knows what he thought.

Your hands began to ruffle his hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck, noting how remarkably well his hair actually grew and how extremely beautiful it made him look. As he left marks and brands on your inner thigh, his curls wrapped around your fingers, you rolled them around your index finger and bit your lower lip. Jisung droves you crazy. When he stood up, you looked down at him, feeling his gaze go straight into your veins and especially between your legs, as the fabric of your panties was now completely wet. But he took advantage of this detail. Yes, he lowered his trousers and you thought he was going to fuck your mouth, but in fact he pulled out his already erect cock and spread your legs even wider and began to rub the length between your covered and wet folds. Now it was hard to hold back your moans. And to help you, he covered your mouth with his hand. His movements were fluid as he trapped his lip between your walls, simulating a fuck. "You're so wet princess, all for me. So warm. God, if only I could fuck you right now." He moaned as he pushed the tip between your pussy covered by the wet fabric of your panties. "MphfJis...I'm...about...to...come!" You said disjointedly because of his hand.

He took your chin with the hand that was covering your mouth and opened your mouth with two fingers, playing with your tongue as he fucked your walls again. "Me too baby, open your mouth." He said and began to fuck your mouth as his thumb made room under your panties and began to move quickly over your clit. This made you roll your eyes back and moan in a way that made his cock jerk. He was driving you crazy. This was going to be the best fuck of your life and you were sure of it.

After several thrusts he poured into the warm walls of your throat and you into your panties and onto his thumb. You almost bit his cock. "You did great baby." He said, leaving your lips to swallow and clean up the cum that dripped down your chin. You did, licking it off as he licked his thumb and lowered himself between your thighs to lick off your humour and rip off your panties. "We won't be needing these anymore." He laughed and threw them into the trash. You almost screamed, you were still very sensitive down there. "You're crazy Han Jisung, you know they can hear us," you said, biting your lip. "Let them hear baby, you are mine and only I can fuck you like this." He whispered in your ear and then pulled you towards him. "Come on, let's go. We have a long night ahead of us Princess." He said, slapping your thighs and pulling on his jacket without putting his shirt back on.

He dragged you with him and left the room, shouting to his manager that he was going home. You were open-mouthed; you had never seen him so eager to fuck you. When you reached the car, all he did was squeeze your thigh as he stepped on the accelerator. Your legs were close together and the fact that you were not wearing panties allowed your vaginal lips to rub between them and wet the seat of Jisung's car. Perhaps a little too much, as the older man noticed and put his hand between your labia and began to rub them. "Jisung, please, I am too sensitive..." you begged him, but that did not stop him, for it only brought another grin to his face.

"Princess, that is not even the beginning."

Indeed he was right, for as soon as you arrived at the elder's house you were immediately thrown into bed and stripped of all your clothes. And now you found yourself naked beneath the still covered body of your best friend. And as he rubbed his covered knee over your naked intimacy, he began to undress until he too was naked in front of your eyes. He lowered himself onto your breasts and began to bite and suck on them, especially your sensitive nipples. Your legs were tight around his waist so that his erect intimacy rubbed against your already sensitive and wet cunt. In fact, as he bit your skin from your neck to your collarbone and your tits, you felt the tip of his cock pushing and rubbing between your walls. "I can feel you so fucking wet for me." He moaned into your ear as you gasped out unconnected words, including his name. "Jisung please fuck me, I can't stand it anymore."

"As you wish my princess." He sneered and then grabbed you by the throat, squeezing you almost to the point of suffocation, and thrust into you, immediately beginning to move with a force you did not believe he had. You moaned like never before and it drove you mad. The way he slapped and rubbed his cock between your walls. His hands slid gently over your hips, massaging and squeezing. It was wonderful, the feeling of your walls around him, around his member, the warmth that only your body could have given him. You squeezed again until his intimacy touched perhaps your inner and weakest part. His lips roamed over your bare skin, lingering here and there to leave marks, bites, kisses. Now and then he focused on your nipples, tormenting them, biting carefully, pulling with his teeth and then sucking. Again. His hands also came to cupping your buttocks, spreading them, massaging them, so to your hips and thighs. Then he began to give you more precise, powerful, almost violent thrusts . "You are fucking magnificent." He whispered in your ear, then bit your earlobe and went back to kissing that bare skin, long since unbleached. He was hungry, you were his favourite dish, his delicacy. If he could, he would have fed on your perfect body all the time.

At that moment, all you could think about was Jisung and how he made you feel by fucking you. For a moment you could not understand where you were. Your mind was clouded with bliss, heat enveloped your whole body like a thick cloud. You couldn't help but melt into the arms of the boy whose name you couldn't stop saying, thrust after thrust.

You dug your nails into the flesh of his arms that blocked your breath, seeking support as you felt your body slowly melt with pleasure, almost too overwhelming to bear. You clung to his lips; it was hard to pull away. You grinned mischievously and rested your hand on the boy's, enticing him to tighten his grip on your neck. You tried to get closer and closer to his body, this pathetic closeness was not enough for you, you wanted more, you felt the need to become one with him. You rested your forehead on his and began to move your pelvis against his.

He pulled away from your body, tightening his grip around your neck as you continued to moan his name. You were sure the older man's neighbours had heard all the times you had screamed his name. But you wanted more and more, you were greedy for his cock, you couldn't get enough of it and you just wanted to feel his hot cum dripping down your thighs. You were addicted to his cock. It was pleasurable to feel the sensation of his nails gripping your flesh, branding it and making it his. Your walls also tightened around his member from the stimulation and God, God only knows how much pleasure Jisung felt at that moment. You began to thrust more and more with your pelvis, helping him with the thrusts. The older man took both of your legs and decided to bring them to your chest so that he could thrust more accurately. To say that you had both become a moaning mess seemed a fairly obvious thing to say, as that had been the case. He lay down by your side, not getting out of you, now you were lying on your side, your legs against his chest as he fucked you, holding you tight from the waist as he knocked the air out of you. "Fuck you are so warm and tight even though I fucked you yesterday. You always welcome me so well, mhh, baby like this, hold me like this," he whispered in a hoarse, almost lazy moan in contrast to the thrusts he was giving you. By now your brain had been disconnected.

"I fucking want you all to myself forever. You are only mine, no one can ever fuck you like I can." He pushed even deeper. "I'm yours Jisung, you're the only man for me." you moaned as you grabbed his hair with one hand, the hair that had driven you crazy all night long, and pulled it, and with the other grabbed your clit, stimulating it. "And you, my only woman," he growled, then moved your hand away and began to move his fingers quickly to facilitate your orgasm.

"Princess... Mhh I'm about to fucking cum," he moaned into your ear and then gave precise strokes inside you. "Mhh ... Jis ... m...e to...oh ..." you cried out, only to come in warm spurts onto his hand and he cums into you. But he did not come out of you, rather he overpowered you and resumed his thrusts, overstimulating you as he rode out his orgasm. "Fuck your walls always so warm and welcoming to me, let's rock all night baby." He growled.

And so you fucked until dawn, rocking all night long.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @skzswife @weareapackofstrays @h0n3yj4y @ilychee08 @minnieprincess85 @palindrome969 @chartrucewhore @luvyev @jisunglyricist @notevenheretbh1 @chillichillicrabcrab23 @redstayrosie @hyunjinslefttoe @xxstrayland 🥰

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starshapedb0x · 10 months

Text

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ✧˚ · .

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and carlos sainz have had your eyes on each other for so long, but the more you think about the each other the more jealous you get for others who get to spend time with the other. Who will fall first in this little game you’re playing?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 18+ (minors dni and read at your own discretion.), jealousy, semi-public sex, party, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), poorly written smut (first timer guys), mirror sex, Rudy Pankow involved because I need a random celebrity

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x model!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2K+

𝐀/𝐍: very much inspired by “boyfriend” by ariana grande and social house music video. first time writing something like this, I might write more, requests always open.

There you stood in front of the big, dark wood door of the huge mansion where the party you’d been invited to was happening. Your stylist had picked a black sparkly short dress with stars on it, paired with under-the-knee high heel boots. Your ears and neck are adorned with silver jewellery, matching the bracelet around your wrist. The invite said to be there at around 21:00, but you are Y/N Y/L/N. You didn’t need to arrive a little late to make an impact on whoever was in there, but the team that worked with you knew how doing so reinforced that effect. And even if it was a private party, the paparazzi were going insane with your image spread on their cameras. Y/N, the epitome of beauty, the woman every magazine wanted on their covers, every designer on their runway, and every photographer in their studio.

You gave wide smiles to the paparazzi as you walked into the house. Other than the lack of light and the loud music all around, you noticed the main guests this party was for: all of the F1 grid. You were acquainted with them, but from the first meeting, you found them to be a nuisance to your job, to your image, and most importantly, to you, there were a few you tolerated but the way they messed with anyone that was involved in modeling threw you off. But.. him. Carlos Sainz, the one man you’d danced with on those warm summer nights in clubs, parties, or anywhere you were invited that enhanced your reputation. The black classic suit he was in, and to make it a little more informal, without the tie. The dress shirt unbuttoned the right amount, showing off just enough of the chest you’d rested your head on before. And under the lack of light, his eyes looked even shinier.

Throughout those months, Sainz and you had your eyes on each other. You only spoke to each other in person never through texting, but the amount of time both of you spent just looking at each other’s social media pages was too much to be safe for the average person. You saw every picture posted on his account, along with every one he was tagged in. But so did he. And every picture you took holding a man that wasn’t him a little closer than usual had him gritting his teeth and holding his phone a little tighter than usual. To be fair, you knew what you were doing without looking at it; you helped pick the photos for your social media, thinking about what reaction you’d get from the driver if he were to see them.

Of course, you greeted every one of them, talking loudly so you could be heard over the loud music. What a season! They deserve the break and whatever party is thrown for them, although you were sure they’d rather sleep. The other driver you actually got along with was Lando, so as soon as you went and said hello, the conversation went smoothly, catching up with the last few months. You couldn’t help but eye the Spaniard from the corner of your eye, sliding the tip of your fingers along the side of Lando’s arm as you laughed lightly at a joke he cracked. Carlos couldn’t just walk over and snatch you away from his friend and colleague, slapping his hand away even if it wasn’t touching you, so he decided to play your game.

Approaching another guest, she giggled as you watched the Spaniard move his lips, finishing with a grin playing on them. He eyed you almost directly, but somehow the woman in front of him didn’t notice. At this point, the conversation with Lando had faded out a bit, and he offered to go get you a drink, which, after turning back to him to stop looking at Carlos, you accepted. You stood there for a second. You weren’t going to let Sainz win the game you started. To your luck, Rudy Pankow walked right past you and, upon noticing, greeted you right away. Looking back at the Spaniard, who now had his hand placed very lightly, almost not touching the hips of the woman in front of him, as they both laughed, you hugged the blonde actor tightly and longer than usual. You held his arms, asking him how he was doing and how everyone was. He replied to you, but everything you could focus on was the Brunette man giving you a quick look, your eyes meeting for just a millisecond as the woman hugged him tightly while telling him something he genuinely didn’t care about at the moment.

"Rudy, that’s so nice." You said this as he told you all about what he was filming at the moment. He lowered his head slightly to hear what you needed to say, and reaching your mouth to his ear, you continued. "I really need to go touch up; I won’t take long, promise."

With that, you walked to the bathroom. It didn’t take you long to find it, but to your surprise, the bathroom was huge. There was a long counter with a sink and a vase with flowers placed on the other end, two round mirrors along that wall, and not one person was in there. Right after you left his field of vision, the one and only Carlos Sainz rushingly left the embrace of the woman, whose name he didn’t even remember, and without saying goodbye, basically ran after you.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, carefully running your fingers through your hair to fix it up, a silhouette showed up behind you. And without even looking carefully, you knew exactly who it was. "Carlos Sainz. You looked like you were having fun over there."

"Cállate, Princesa." (Shut up, Princess.) He says it in a more joking way than anything else. He makes his way over to you, shutting and locking the door behind him swiftly. You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. The Spaniard’s hand flew to your hips, roughly gripping them. You threw your arms around his neck, letting your hands run along his dark hair. Both of your lips crashed into each other abruptly. Both of you lost the game. You lowered your hands to his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders under the black blazer he was wearing. It was far too hot in here for him to be wearing that. You slid your hands down just slightly, and Carlos placed his arms back, letting the blazer fall off, landing on the cold floor. His hands fell right back on you, and they roamed along your back. Every touch of his fingers against your skin made you press up against him, closing every air gap between you. He lowered his hand to the back of your thighs, picking you up and setting you down on that counter. As he set you down, you grabbed his shirt’s collar and pulled him towards you. It all felt so desperate and somewhat rushed. Both of you felt hot and in a trance; you both pulled away from each other. Carlos looked at you with those brown eyes of his, and you held your breath at the sight in front of you, his mouth slightly open, panting quietly, his once neat hair now messy. But you weren’t the only one in awe. Carlos looked at your face, lips red and swollen from the previous kissing, cheeks visibly warmer than before, and eyes carefully watching his every move. Nothing else mattered right now; the music was significantly lowered in volume in here, and all you could hear were your company’s panting along with yours. The Spaniard didn’t take long to place both of your lips back together, and you roughly roamed your hands on each other, moving almost savagely on the counter—CRASH! Only you looked at the fallen, now broken, vase on the floor. "Wait, Carlos—"

"It doesn’t matter, cariño." He said, his hands reaching the zipper on the back of your dress, sliding it down and placing his hands under it, sliding one of the straps down to reveal more of your neck, then sliding the other one down to reveal your breasts, your nipples hardening at the contact with the cold air. He trailed kisses down your jawline and neck, reaching them. He worked carefully on both of your nipples, giving them equal attention. His hands rested on both sides of your waist. You rested your head back on the mirror behind you and intertwined your fingers with his hair. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, breathing shakily. His hand moved to the side of your thighs, sliding to the inner side of them, and not long after, right under your dress, lightly touching your clothed clit with his fingers. At which point you gasped, feeling almost dizzy. He rubbed it on top of your black lace panties just the right way—enough to keep you shaking from pleasure in his hands but not nearly enough to make you cum. "Carlos.."

"Dime, niña bonita." (Tell me, pretty girl.) He whispered lowly in your ear.

"Please, please make me cum." You desperately told him he slid your panties down your legs, you whining at the loss of contact in between your legs, and threw them near his blazer, and in a second he got on his knees in front of you, leaning his head against the inner side of your thigh. Your hands still rested on his soft hair as he pulled you towards him, sliding you on the counter. He pulled your dress up and guided his finger on your folds, hovering over your clit before pressing down. His finger slid slickly inside you, earning a choked moan out of your mouth. His tongue started working on your clit, and at the contact, you abruptly gripped his hair and practically screamed. As he got quicker, Carlos added two more fingers, and you could do nothing but let him, at this point only seeing stars. His pants were getting tighter as your moans became louder and your legs shook under the influence of his actions. Your legs instinctively closed around him as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you let out a string of moans, calling out his name. The Spaniard pried your legs open and got up. "I don’t remember saying you could cum, cariño. Fucking the obedience back into you doesn’t sound like a bad idea."

You panted, fucked out, and were sensitive from the orgasm you’d just had. Carlos didn’t seem to care as he slid you down from the counter and turned you around to face the mirror. You could see him with his hands lowered in the mirror, but what confirmed he was unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants were the noises, the clinging of the metal part of the belt and the unzipping of the dress pants. After doing so, he looked up at you, placing his hand near your mouth and resting his fingers on your lips. You took them in your mouth, sucking gently on them and coating them with the saliva built up from simply looking at the male behind you. Carlos stroked himself a bit, sighing, before pressing his cock against your pussy. "Fuck. Carlos, just do it." You moaned out, lowering your head with both hands to your sides and supporting yourself on the marble counter of the bathroom. He stopped himself.

"What do you want me to do, Princesa?" You shivered under his touch, one of his hands going up to your breasts, flicking the hardened skin of your nipple between his fingers, the other under your chin, almost wrapping around your throat from the front. He made you look at yourself in the mirror. "Look at you. I bet none of those guys have ever left you like this, have they? I know you posted all those pictures just for me. You get off at the thought of me getting jealous over you, huh? Princesa?"

You looked at yourself in the mirror; the mess you were in under his touch was unmatched. Fucked out and breathless, still waiting and begging for more, your hair falling on both of your shoulders, your skin glistening with sweat and desire, He was right; no one to ever touch you had touched you like he did; you were ruined for other men after today. "I need you right now, please, Carlos, please." You begged, looking at him through the mirror.

"Only because you asked nicely, niña bonita." He slid his cock into your pussy slowly, groaning.

"You had to put it all in, you fucking asshole." You said that, struggling to keep your legs still so you wouldn’t fall.

"Perdóname, but I’m not halfway in." (Forgive me.) He cooed, leaning against you and tightening the grip on your throat to hold your head up still. Your knees gave out slightly, and you tried to keep your strength on your arms. The unstoppable noises slipping out of your lips could only encourage Carlos more, as he finally thrust in everything he could, earning sharp panting for you underneath him. He started thrusting into you at a slow pace, although it didn’t take him long to speed up, and it didn’t take long for you to feel that pit in your stomach again. Finally, it hit you—that sweet spot you liked so much. Your whole body trembled as Carlos hit it, and noticing it, he angled his thrusts towards that same spot. It was being used and abused, and you couldn’t hold out like this much longer. You were practically screaming; no one outside could hear you both with the loud music and chatting of everyone, but even if they did, at this point you couldn’t care less. "Y/N, Y/N.." Carlos chanted, his thrusts getting sloppier, his breathing getting heavier, and his moans getting louder.

"Please let me,.. ugh.., please let me cum, Carlos." The way his name slid off your tongue drove him wild. "Cum for me, Princesa." He almost begged in your ears; you felt yourself tense up, and from there you were lost, crying out his name, gripping on anything you could around you, and your legs shaking from the wave of pleasure that shot through you.

As you rode out your high, you felt Carlos halt and pull out, spilling his seed onto your thighs, holding you against him, and pressing open-mouthed kisses anywhere he could reach on your skin.

__________________

Carlos was sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out, his blazer on the floor next to him. You sat on top of him, head leaning against the counter; you were dressed now, and you innocently giggled at whatever he was saying. He had his fingers running along your cheek, and you had your fingers gripping the collar of his shirt. Your lips inches away from his.

"Estás tan hermosa—"

An unlocking noise was heard, and Lando walked in. Both of you halted and leaned back away from each other’s touch. Lando looked at the both of you, still you sat on Carlos’ legs, furrowing his eyebrows and visibly gritting his teeth. He looked at the broken vase on the floor and at the way you were now adjusting the strap of your dress while Carlos buttoned his shirt back up. And before any of you could speak, he just backed away.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

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Musician!eren when you try to fake a orgasm with him

oooooh I’m so glad I scrolled back through my inbox and found this gem because ohhhh boy! 🤭 lemme tell you…I hope y’all never get tired of me writing about him because I don’t think I can.

cw: rough (lowkey angry) sex because mean eren makes me feral :(, slapping, fingering, choking, spit play, slight degradation and name calling, squirting

if it’s one thing that eren knows better than anything on this earth, even more so than music, it’s his girl’s body. Every inch, crevice, corner and curve on that beautiful frame of yours is imbedded in his brain; akin to that of the keys he presses daily. It’s like second nature to him. He knew everything that made you tick, turned you on and even what drove you mad with lust for him. So one night, when the two of you are going hot and heavy after a rather intense argument, you find out just how true that sentiment is…

“Alrighttt, fuck! You win, baby. I’m sorry—“

a seemingly helpless plea escaping your mouth as you lie flat on your back..gazing up at your boyfriend with fluttering eyes and breathy moans. You clawing ferociously at his sweat glistened, steel hard abs; a result of his new workout regimen as to prepare for his upcoming tour. Even your legs began to tremble as they hooked around his waist and your heels cling to his lower back, along with your nails clawing into his tattooed skin. His dick swollen inside of your tightness. All synonymous with the fact that you just came extremely hard for him…except, there was just one tiny problem:

“Oh trust me, princess…you’re not sorry. Not yet at least..”

the very ominous statement leaving his lips with a wide grin, which could not have spelled good news for you in the slightest. Because the truth was, he knew better than that. He knew better than to trust your little performance because he could feel firsthand that you hadn’t truly experienced the mind numbing orgasm you were trying so desperately to portray. It wasn’t for a lack of his skill, no. It had everything to do with the fact that earlier, only a few hours prior, the two of you were in a rather heated argument about a particular photographer you had worked with for a shoot and how he wanted you nowhere near the guy. It came off as controlling but it was for your own good. Even so, you were both still angry; him for your bratty attitude and you because of his brash way of expressing himself..and the only way to absolve all of said anger was to fuck it out of one another! Not too long after, you found yourselves tearing one another out your clothes, scattering them on the staircase as he fucked you against it with a hoisted leg on the railing. To getting your throat fucked on the balcony overlooking the living room and downstairs. Leaving you a sloppy mess. But that wasn’t enough for Eren..not by a long shot. He couldn’t let up until you were unable to move at all. However, you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. Or so you thought!

“Wait, what do you—“

“You must think I’m fucking stupid or something..what? You didn’t think I felt that shit? You’re holding out on me, baby. Don’t play dumb.”

it seemed that he had caught you red handed..faking an orgasm. Clamping down to keep from coming undone. But if he had any say in it, you were going to unravel those tight bundle of nerves and make the mess he so desperately craved. With a firm grip around your throat and your back pressed firmly to the headboard as he forced you upright..keeping that head straight and pretty eyes on him, Eren then shoved his fingers roughly into your mouth, causing you to gag up an enormous trail of saliva in the process. “Because if you had actually came for me like I told you to..” with that bodily fluid dribbling down your stomach, tits and to your throbbing clit, he’d begin to massage it in before shoving two digits in replacement of his thick cock. Your punishment for not appreciating it! “I’d be soaking wet right now. But since you wanna be a stubborn lil’ bitch..I got something for you.” A promise more so than a threat but you knew you were in for it now. Sometimes, it felt as if he knew you better than yourself and he wasn’t much in the way of having you try and bruise his ego tonight. Especially when it was so painfully obvious that you were just dying to release. With those fingers still housed inside of you, he’d use his others to mark your cheek with slaps. Making sure you’re keeping your gaze fixated on him and him alone. By now, you had began heaving, unable to pretend any longer that you felt no pleasure. That frothy, milk colored cream being the tell all factor that you were close. “Look at you now, trying to ride my fucking fingers to get off…just for that shit, you hold it in and don’t come until I say so.” And it was at this point, you began to tense up and flail around. That’s when he’d grasp your throat again..causing you to gasp for air and beg for a release. But to no avail and he’d shove you back down, still flailing around in an attempt to take his fingers to the hilt and stretch your cunt open but he wasn’t going to make it that easy. When you began to whimper and beg, telling him how you were really about to come, all he did was laugh in response.

“Oh now you want to do it? You wanna squirt all over my fingers? Hmm?”

“Yes, daddy! Please!..”

“And you’ll listen when I tell your ass to do something, right?”

not breaking his stride once while he coaxed those answers out of you and those juices out of your body. Pressing a firm hand to your tummy, Eren rapidly fingered you until that pretty little pussy began to spasm and he knew you were physically incapable of holding back and that’s when he’d stroke your clit to make it all the more intense and impossible to hold out. So once those digits were removed..

“Oh my God!..fuck..”

that shower of squirt was extracted with it, splattering his chest and stomach, just as he wanted! But you didn’t get a moment’s break with him. Amid your orgasm, he’d grip his cock at the base; smacking it against those very sensitive and clammy folds, right before pushing himself in to the halfway point..filling you to the brim.

“Now let’s try that shit again and this time..none of that bullshit, alright? Nut on this dick for real..”

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - PART ONE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being kind of a dick, drinking

1.2k words

PART TWO is here

You bit your lips when you saw your own reflection in the mirror, twirling softly as you analyzed yourself in the high couture dress the stylish team had picked exactly for you. After weeks of insistence, Pedro finally convinced you to be his plus one in an event. You'd been close for a long time and you always made sure to support him, attending events and premieres with special invitations he gave you, but never walking down the red carpet. You both knew it would just send everybody the wrong idea, and as his popularity was really high, you all agreed it wouldn't be a great idea to spark rumors and gossip, especially at how private he'd always been about his personal life.

However, after all the support you gave him, Pedro knew you deserved some of the glamour he was living and without exposing you to the media and all the lack of privacy that could lead, he picked a smaller event, a magazine cocktail ou gala, something like that, you weren't so sure. One there wouldn't be a red carpet per se, but rather a gala with a real nice dinner for the guests and a nice party to enjoy afterwards. There would be photographers, sure, but once inside, there was no way to point fingers at whoever was each other's plus ones.

The man really wanted you to have the whole experience, so he required his team of stylists to treat you like a real princess. He knew you deserved it, not only for the friendship you two had, but also as a way of trying to forget the guilt he felt every time he thought of how he probably broke your heart.

Pedro wasn't blind, ever since you became really close friends, he knew the affection, the words and the actions you had towards him meant something else, but he always chose to pretend not to notice, after all, no matter how incredible you were, he didn't feel the same. Yes, you were gorgeous, you were smart and amazing, but he just didn't feel that sparkle, and the fact you were a lot younger than he was didn't count on your relationship's favor. He was able to act as if he didn't know your feelings for him grew each passing day, until you being a lot braver than he could ever be, decided to come clean and open up about how you really felt. He hated himself for being honest and telling you in the best way he could find your feelings were one sided. It took you a couple of weeks to let it sink until you were able to act normal around him again. You loved Pedro and you would rather be around him as only friends, keeping your hopes high than being away from him. It wasn't healthy, but that was the way. Pedro also got relieved when he saw he didn't lose you, just because he didn't love you romantically, it didn't mean he didn't love you as a friend and cherished your friendship.

Once you were ready, he knocked on the door and walked in, smiling big at the sight of you in your pretty dress and took a step closer

"You're gorgeous Y/N… a real princesa"

he said in his accent which made you blush. You also took a look at him up and down and nodded, approving the look that was picked for him

"You look great as well, Pedrito" you smiled at him, though the butterflies in your stomach never stopped, no matter how hard you tried to pretend they did.

He offered you his arm and both went to the car together.

The event went smoothly, way better than you anticipated, there was no red carpet and though the photographers snapped pictures of him, no one bothered you. You didn't pay much attention to the theme of the gala and nor the speeches delivered, you paid attention to Pedro and how well he got along with people, always friendly and bringing smiles to everybody's face when he was around.

By the time the party was going on, the music was loud, people were dancing and you and Pedro were not sparing any drinks from the open bar, it was your turn to leave the dance floor and get yourselves another drink, so you interrupted your dance and smiled at him before going to the bar. You sighed at the amount of people in front of you and had no other choice but to stand in line to pick your beverages. You knew you'd take a while to return, but once you had the two glasses in hand you didn't expect to see him dance with another woman. Hell, you didn't expect to see him dance like that with another woman. Her body was glued to his and it was obvious to everyone they were just humping each other than doing dance steps. His hand was on her hips as she moved against his body, leaving no space between them. You stopped dead on tracks, watching the grotesque scene, as a hole formed in your chest. There wasn't any other word that could describe it better. At the first sight it was an intense pang, jealousy, sadness and anger heated up your body and raced your heart, but then, no matter how you didn't want to watch the scene, you also felt unable to look away, you became numb. There was just an emptiness inside of your heart and then you were able to turn your back to them and head back for the table.

It took all your willpower not to cry, but you wouldn't give him or anyone the taste of shedding tears over that, let alone in a room full of people you didn't know. You just finished the two drinks and remained in silence, wondering if you should just go home or drink more.

You were about to head for the bar another time when Pedro rushed to you, he was panting and smiled at you clueless, there was a soft flush on his cheeks and he held his suit jacket strategically on front of his lap, probably hiding the tent he got there.

"Hey, Y/N… honey, listen, I told you I'd take you home but something came up…" he scratched the back of his head "so if it's alright if you, maybe you can go home on your own? Text me when you get there so I know you arrived safely, okay? We'll talk tomorrow" he said in a rush and left a quick peck on your cheek, before turning your back to you and walking to the woman he was dancing with, taking her by the hand and quickly disappearing out of the door.

Only when your Uber arrived, you finally allowed yourself to let those tears fall, not even when he straight up told you to your face he didn't love you back, you felt as rejected and humiliated as that night. You hated that woman without even knowing her and you hated him for doing that to you.

In the early morning, Pedro left you a text asking if you'd arrived home safely, to which you didn't reply, you just silenced your phone and tried going back to sleep, so you'd forget about everything that happened.

-----

A/N: I hope you liked it!!!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal smut #actors #male actors

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hollytoshaw · 1 month

Text

ski season | harry lewis

summary : ig feed of harry and y/n’s annual ski trip ft a cute surprise

face claim : dua lipa

a/n: feel free to request any insta au’s or fics, i'm excited to write some more stuff!!!

other stuff by me linked here : masterlist

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by ksi and 342,053 others y/n_username harry and i 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 fluorescent outfits tagged: wroetoshaw

...

tobjizzle fits go crazy ↳ y/n_username we look crazy more like

behzingagram cold fits from you two ↳ y/n_username literally

faithlouiseak so cute

w2sfan20 omg their annual ski trip so cute :))

vikkstagram try not to stack it on a ski jump and break your collarbone like i did ↳ y/n_username ouch don’t remind me 😭😭😭 ↳ sidemenfan21 6 years later and he’s still traumatised

wroetoshaw posted a photo!

liked by calfreezy and 729,047 others! wroetoshaw Snow tagged: y/n_username

...

calfreezy bet you feel right at home

y/n_username why have you tagged me i’m not even in this ↳ wroetoshaw thought i’d give you some free promo #AD wroetoynfan first harry post in years and this is what we get

theburntchip hot

y/n_username posted an instragram story!

y/n posted a photo!

liked by vikkstagram and 398,349 others y/n_username having snow much fun ❄️

...

vikkstagram punny caption ↳ y/n_username felt so clever when i thought of it

calfreezy cringe caption ↳ y/n_username hater

taliamar obsessed with your outfit omg ↳ y/n_username i’m obsessed with you omg

wroetoshaw must of had a good photographer ↳ y/n_username fully only 2 good ones out of the 100 you took

y/n posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw and 342,982 others! y/n_username last day of our trip :( tagged: wroetoshaw

...

freyanightingale snowboard queen

wroetoshaw good looking fella in the last picture

calfreezy bet bog was scared of the ski lift ↳ y/n_username poor boy can't do heights 😂😂

chrismd10 always some sort of alcohol around you two

faithlouiseak yay come home i miss you 😭 ↳ y/n_username its been a 1 week but i miss you too

Harry and Y/N were on their annual winter skiing trip in Geneva - a tradition they had taken up about 3 years into their relationship. They had reached the last day of the trip and decided to go out to a local bar and drown their sorrows - the pair not wanting the trip to end. After getting a few rounds between them they decided to call it a night, with their early flight and lack of packing done, they knew they probably should have ended the night a long time ago.

As they walked out of the bar, snowflakes fell softly from the sky and all the rooftops around them were dusted with a shimmering blanket of white, Harry and Y/N found themselves caught in a playful dance amidst the winter wonderland - the cold had knocked them back and they felt a lot more drunk than they thought they were.

Hand in hand, they ventured out into the cold air, their cheeks flushed red (Harry blamed the 2 bottles of wine they had shared). With each step, they left behind a trail of footprints in the snow, their laughter mingling with the soft crunch of their boots against the frozen ground.

Their destination? A secluded clearing nestled deep within the town—a secret spot they had discovered during their first winter together, a place where the world seemed to stand still and time lost all meaning.

As they arrived at their snowy sanctuary, Harry and Y/N wasted no time in diving headfirst into their wintry adventure. They built snow angels side by side, their bodies creating patterns in the pristine snow as they flapped their arms and legs, laughing at the mess they were creating.

Next came the snowman—a creation that looked a bit insane due to its lack of carrot nose (none of the shops around them were opened) or buttons for eyes (harry protested against the buttons) but nonetheless the snowman was standing proudly in the center of the snow as a testament to their love and creativity. With gloved hands and rosy cheeks, they worked together to shape and mold the perfect snowman, their laughter echoing through the quiet town as they occasionally through handfuls of snow at one another.

Yet amidst the flurry of snow and laughter, there was something else stirring in Harry's heart—a feeling so profound and overwhelming that he couldn't keep it inside any longer. Something that he'd been thinking about for months...years even.

With a nervous flutter in his chest, he turned to Y/N , his blue eyes shining with love and affection. And in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the winter landscape and the warmth of their shared laughter, struggling through the snow to get down on one knee, he spoke the words he had been longing to say.

"Y/N, will you marry me?," he whispered, his voice barely above a hush and slightly hoarse from all the singing they’d done in the bar but still managing to carry with it all the depth and sincerity of his feelings.

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she gasped in astonishment, her hand flying to her mouth in disbelief. Her heart swelled with overwhelming joy, and her stomach felt sick (a mix of shock and booze) and it was as though she might burst with happiness.

It had felt like hours had gone by as the two faced one another, Harry shaking on one knee and Y/N stood in shock.

With a trembling voice, Harry broke the silence rambling in his drunken state, “You know it's okay if you say no, but I'd love it if you said yes - it's just sort of freezing down here and I’m scared if I stay like this any longer I’ll have turned to ice.'' Y/N could barely choke a laugh at his attempt of a joke but his panic shook her slightly and she realized she hadn’t replied to him yet.

Unable to contain her emotions any longer, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. "Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure elation. A sigh of relief passed Harry's lips.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, surrounded by the beauty of the winter landscape, Harry and Y/N knew that their love was as enduring and timeless as the snow that blanketed the earth—a love that would warm their hearts even on the coldest of days, and carry them through all the seasons yet to come.

y/n posted a photo!

liked by ksi & 560,203 others! y/n_username there's snow way we're officially engaged!!! tagged: wroetoshaw

...

calfreezy SHUT UP WHAT

ksi Congratulations! ❤️

faithlouiseak i'm crying i can't 😭😭😭

taliamar omfg facetime me right now

theburntchip go on bog finally

behzingagram shit i need to get my best mans speech prepared

wroetoshaw ❤️

vikkstagram Congrats you two!

r0sielewis finally going to be my sister in law omg

w2sfan2 omg nearly all the boys are engaged now i feel so old

zerkaa congrats bro, it only took us both 10 years plus 🥵

sidemanxixfan the caption hahaha they're meant to be

hollytoshaw : thanks for reading!!! hope you all enjoyed my second instagram au!!! let me know what you guys think and if there’s anything i should change about these. really enjoying making them!

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

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goldsbitch · 3 months

Text

Just don't talk--

-and come over. p3 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando can't stand Y/N, the first female driver in F1. He also can't stand not having her with her clothes on.

warnings: minors do not interact, cursing, a bit of smau...just generally don't take this one too seriously

The following week marked a u-turn in the media strategy of McLaren and Aston Martin. Another set of meetings, very quick as nobody wanted to open a can of worms or cause even more talk on the topic of Y/N and Lando. They studied the material shot for the F1 - and the consensus was to stop the Lando x Y/N part being released out as it gave off strange vibes. It was a mix of pure lack of chemistry and then a sudden spike of sexual tension and a 180 shift. In all fairness it was a bit uncomfortable to watch for the media teams, who had to analyse people they were in direct daily contact.

No unnecessary contact. No joined interviews. Keeping them as apart as possible. Gone were the days where teams would use the sexual tension as a selling point. Times have changed, this would fly really well in 2010's, but now anything of this sorts for a nightmare for PR. Y/N would be undermined. Lando put in a fuck boy category. It wasn't like anyone saw anything happen. None of the people initiating these meetings had even slightest idea that their worst nightmares were only a light version of the truth. If there was ever an elephant in a room, it was this time. Nobody dared to speak their mind. The whisper challenge video came out without the two. Having it cut and deleted from all hard drives was an order and nobody was to speak of it again.

Social media had been strangely quiet, focusing on race related topics. That was until Lando wore a short sleeve, his healing bite mark seeing the light of day and on display for thousands of eyes. How was one suppose to wear long shirts in hot ass countries they were constantly traveling to? Personally, he thought it was cool and there was even a point where he debated having it tattooed - owning the shit out of and taking the power away from Y/N. Max, his best friend, stopped him. But the thought still lingered back in his mind. It had been a little too long since their last night session. Jerking off was fine, but never good enough. The bite mark caused quite the stir among his fans, but he honestly gave little to no shit about that. He was not going to contact her first though. The last thing he would do is to simp up to her. So when there was a hot model present at one their random club night outs, he did not think twice. It was a little too easy for his liking, but he needed to blow some steam. He could have been discreet, he really could. But why? There was a part of him that was excited to see how this would resonate with Y/N. The violent make out outside the club really was not necessary. Especially when Lando knew that there was a photographer sitting nearby patiently, about to make a living out of a Lando's whim.

When Lando scrolled instagram the next morning, he has a little too proud smile on his face. He would never admit it out loud, not even to himself, that Y/N was on his mind when he fucked the brunette. Mediocre night at best. What worried him a bit was that bad sex was something he almost forgot existed. Of course that Y/N saw it. It was one of the first things that popped up on her phone that morning. It did not bother her. Not even closely. She just had a good energy streak, that was her reply to her trainer when she nearly broke the rowing machine at the gym. She uninstalled instagram later in the afternoon, trying to get the instagram girl's face out of her memory.

There was no way she'd be the one texting him for a late night hook up now. Maybe it was for the better in the end. Focusing on racing only now and even potentially beating him on the track. Night got a little too lonely without the option to have him over, on her and under her. She tried baking, reading, got really into chemistry related youtube videos, yet drinking and working out seemed to be the only thing to really work.

Two long weeks passed until she finally received a text. She ignored that her heart skipped a beat when she saw his name on her phone screen.

"Bro. What are we going to do now?"

She rolled her eyes. What a lame ass opening. No point in playing the waiting game, so she replied immediately. She could care less.

"Aw, got bored and miss some quality fucking?" She second guessed the text right after sending. Was that too desperate? She thew the phone away for few minutes. One late night unnecessary coffee later, she picked it right back up.

"No, you little shit. You not on socials or what?"

A screenshot followed.

There were PR nightmares and there was this kind of disaster. Instagram and Tik Tok got installed back immediately. She watched some cuts and edits from their video, low quality snips that were not giving any full image. Comment after comment, the creativity not being of concern to anyone. All of the same note. Is there more to their obvious dislike of each other? There were only few who were concern by why did most of the leak footage give such a hostile vibe. Lando's eye fucking was more of an attractive topic.

She scrolled for few minutes, watching a new shift on their public image unfold. It was mostly the hardcore fans, not really something the big outlets took interest in at the moment. But there was one theme that followed - people were curious. Panic set over her, mind started racing in all possible scenarios. And then did something for the first time - she dialed Lando's number. He picked up reluctantly.

"How did it get out?" she asked right away.

"Hello to you too. And the fuck would I know."

"Seems like something that would fit into your current portfolio, so yeah, I am asking directly."

Lando smiled proudly. She was jealous. Oh, what he would do to see her face now.

"Hate to disappoint, but I don't have the need for cheap attention." Liar, all he wanted was for her to notice him.

"Ok, assuming nobody from your team or my team did, who got it out?"

"I severely overestimated your ability to focus on the important thing here, apparently."

"So you tell me, Mr. Genius."

"Like I said before you invaded my evening by this panic phone call. What are we going to do? The last thing I'd want is for someone to find out...about us." It felt strange for both of them, to hear him say it like that. Like it wasn't a problem. Every time someone put them together in a sentence, it had been a bad connotation. But not his tone, this one time.

"Well, I don't know, I've only had a minute to process."

"Oh, take your time, of course. Time flies really slowly on social media, so yeah, I'd say you have about a year or so to react."

"Well, we're obviously not going to react anyway."

"I really hope they don't force us to. I'm getting sick of all the media team meddling in. It's their fault in the first place," he said, unamused.

"Yeah, you're right. Good defense, I will use that if they bring it up."

"Don't worry, you'll get my invoice for consulting in your email tomorrow."

"Aw, McLaren not paying enough?"

"I'm sorry, you're still at Aston, correct?"

"Shut it, Norris. So that's it? We'll just not react and let it go?"

"I mean, what else is there to do. Denying anything will only bring up more questions. It's not like people will believe we're friends."

"That, my friend, is true."

"I'm a smart boy, not only a sex god."

"Uhm." Trouble is that he really really was.

"So we'll just let it die out?"

"Yeah. When someone mentions it, we can say that we just don't get along and that's that."

"Great, no lie there."

There were few seconds of quiet tension. Panic was somehow over, but the high adrenaline stayed. It was late evening, their usual prime time. Would they? Should they? Y/N was debating whether she wanted to see Lando again with the vibe he was setting around himself lately putting her off a bit. But then there was the need for territorial claim. Built up energy that wanted to get out. Both of them silently trying to come up with a line good enough for Lando to come over and "dance" with Y/N in a way no friend would. Lando took a breath to speak, but Y/N was quicker.

"So, wanna come over for a work out?" He was over at her place within 25 minutes.

part 4

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vetteltea · 4 months

Text

Brown Eyes [CS55 Ending]

Those brown eyes. Carlos Sainz’s brown eyes.

The man doesn't hesitate; the second the door to your room has opened, he’s immediately rushing forward, practically kicking the chair out of the way. Your mind barely has time to process before you feel too warm, strong hands grab either side of your face, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Time suspends; his lips against yours is a homecoming, it’s a feeling you’ve searched for your entire life and you’re certain you can never let it go again. He pulls back, only for a moment, before crushing his lips against yours again, a deeper, meaningful kiss against your own. You’re certain you can’t process any thought, not until he pulls away, tracing a hand across your cheek, soft strokes against where the butterfly bandages rest.

“Mariposa.” He whispers, gently pushing your legs so he could sit on the side of the bed, still stroking your cheekbone, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, dark eyes flickering for any other form of injury. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“I’m okay.” You murmur, wanting to put his mind at rest. You had no idea how long he had been waiting outside, whether Charles had even left his media duties. All you cared for, longed for in this moment, was the Spainard sitting in front of you, doting for each and every word you said. “It’s just precaution, that’s all.” You promise him in your words that you’re safe, you’re going to be okay. “Why didn’t you go back? You must be exhausted-”

“-I had to wait.” He shakes his head, as if it’s the simplest answer, why are you asking him if he waited for you? “I had to know that you were okay. I couldn’t-” He can’t get his words out. He’s trying. “I couldn’t go home and not tell you-”

He has to look away. Instead, his gaze falls to your hands, where they rest over one another, pale from the temperature of the room. The lack of your wedding band; it’s enough to draw him from his trance, remind him that whilst Charles isn’t here, this is his chance.

“I had to tell you I love you.” He can’t stop now; the floodgates have opened and he’s uncertain he’ll be able to close them ever again. “I always have done. From the first day you walked into the garage with your father, when they announced your engagement.” He pauses, shifting himself, one hand reaching up to rest against your cheek. “All I could think about was how I would have made you happier.”

There’s always been an invisible string; Carlos is certain in any given situation, you would have found your way to one another. Even now, he sits in your room, one hand resting on your cheek, the other reaching down, entwining your fingers together. He can’t leave you now, it didn’t matter how far away he would go, he would always gravitate back to you. He is quite certain that no matter where his life would take him, you would be the one to draw him back in, regardless of location or situation.

“I know I’m not Charles.” You’re all too aware of that. “I know that this- us- will cause issues, a lot of them.” He’s really not selling it, right now. Instead, he presses his shoulders up, trying to radiate some confidence. “But what I can tell you, is that I will work day and night to keep you safe. Keep you happy. Keep you loved.”

He speaks the truth, and you’re all too aware. Loving Carlos meant an unknowing amount of consequences; you would lose love, respect, he would most likely lose his seat at Scuderia Ferrari. And yet…you didn’t care. He didn’t care. Life would find a way, a way to draw the two of you back together.

Besides, Carlos was a smart man; a contract already drafted up for his return to McLaren, the photographs, evidence and statement from Charles’ mistress on the backburner, just in case anybody tried to pull something unacceptable. There would be his home in Madrid waiting, a spare key in his pocket, a place for you to relax and breathe whilst the world continued outside.

And he would be there. He would be there for every laundry day, every home cooked meal, every Birthday, Anniversary, Christmas until he was old and gray, children and grandchildren filling the family home.

He could treat you as his. In his mind, he’s already flicking through introducing you to his parents, how his sisters would adore you and be relieved he had finally found somebody who could tame their younger brother. How he would be able to take you for dinners, to lunches. The holiday sex-

“You’re right, you’re not Charles.” When the words finally leave your lips, that is your first thought. He’s still wheeling from his previous ones, having to draw the thought of you in a bikini from his mind. “You’re Carlos Sainz. The man who has kept me safe. Loved. Who picks me up when I’ve had…an insane amount to drink.” Both of you cannot help but laugh, recalling the more-than-one occasion he has come to collect you, reluctantly being pulled in to dance alongside your intoxicated body.

“You made me realize what I'm worth, what I will always be worth. You're the man who I think would look after me and I would look after you.” You’re identical in your expression, unable to stop. “You’re the man that I'm in love with.”

He immediately snaps up from his gaze onto your hands. You said it. You had said it.

“You….You love me?”

He doesn't wait this time. Instead, he presses himself forward, lips connected to one another as he kisses you into another universe. You love him. You love him.

He has to pull away, if not for the nurse about to step into the room. Before she does, he’s quick to entwine both your hands together, the smile on his face permanently carved into his skin.

“Come back to my house.” He insists. “Come home.”

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muddyorbsblr · 3 months

Text

would've could've should've pt2

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: You and Loki attend an alumni event at your college, hiding in plain sight while on a mission to retrieve information about HYDRA experiments within campus; you cross paths with someone from your past.

Word Count: 6.5k [pace yourself; keep water on standby]

Warnings (spoilers ahead but also you need these): 18+ | heavy themes (retraumatizing; emotional trauma from past relationship; past relationship with severe power imbalance; past relationship involving severely predatory behavior; implied dubcon mentioned in memories); mentions of human experimentation involving drug-induced mental and emotional subjugation; angst; Tony's a-hole tendencies; language [let me know if I missed anything and I'll change it immediately]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; keep the song this is titled after in mind especially "I damn sure never would've danced with the devil at 19"

There'd been a tension between you and Loki ever since that movie night gone wrong where his brother let slip that he was frustrated in his current relationship. At least where physical contact was concerned, or lack thereof. Thor even went so far as to insinuate that Loki doubted his girlfriend even loved him if she wasn't even willing to share her body with him.

The unease was driving the god to the brink of madness, every part of him shaking with the urge to pull you into a room and beg you to tell him what he could do to make things better. He would do just about anything for you, and it pained him to realize that you didn't actually know that.

Perhaps with this new mission that you two were being sent off to, you two could have some much needed time together away from all the noise. And especially away from his brother that thought he knew what was best for him. Thor didn't know a damned thing.

You were best for him. He just needed to be leagues better in showing you that so you could know it as well as he did.

And even though the destination wasn't all that romantic, the god still had a good few tricks up his sleeve that could help him make do with what he had.

"Y/N, quick question about lodging arrangements for your mission with Laufeyson." Loki immediately tuned out all of the other noise around him to listen in on your conversation with the worker from Operations & Logistics. One of the perks he'd found from his Jotun heritage: the enhanced senses that allowed him to eavesdrop even from across the rather spacious room.

"I don't care about the view, Kristy, just stick us wherever," you spoke around the cookie you were munching on.

"Oh, no it's not about the view. You two are booked for a suite, so you'll have a fantastic view of the Hills regardless. Maybe even the Hollywood sign!" She bounded in her spot slightly, clearly excited as she imagined what you'd be seeing from the suite's balcony.

Meanwhile the raven-haired god was already losing himself in the image of sharing some champagne with you, your features illuminated by the city lights. Perhaps stealing multiple kisses through the night.

"I was wondering about the uhh…bedroom arrangements? You want one bedroom or two?"

He was about to speak up, nearly shouting that you only needed a single room with a single bed before you answered, not a single part of you betraying your image of calm consideration. "Two." A pit formed in his stomach as your eyes didn't even dart to steal a glance at him.

"You sure about that, jellybean?" Stark butted in, looking up from his seat at a nearby table with his daughter. "You're supposed to be masquerading as a couple all happy in love and shit."

"Uh huh, sure. In public."

"Alright then. Scenario." He leaned forward on his seat, pointing his writing instrument at you. "Say someone sees you while you're out on the streets, takes an interest in getting photographs of you. You're in Los Angeles, paparazzi's a dime a dozen and some of them know how much pictures of Avengers sell, especially if they look like they're dating. Say our hypothetical pap friend has a telephoto lens that can see into your suite and sees you going into separate rooms. What then?"

You didn't even take a moment to think it over. Instead shrugging and answering him in a perfectly laid back tone, "Couples fight. Paint a smile for the cameras and sleep in separate beds. That's Hollywood, baby."

Loki's pulse thundered in his ears, almost dulling out the way that Stark turned back to his daughter and told her, "You do not ever go to your Auntie Y/N for relationship advice, are we clear?" The little girl only answered her father with a little salute.

Was that what was happening? The tension that ran thick between you two whenever you were so much as in the same breathing space together? Were you fighting?

"Two rooms it is then," the Logistics worker spoke again, tapping away at her tablet before giving both you and Stark a thumbs up, confirming that the reservation had been made.

"Hey, Reindeer Games, jellybean, word of advice? You know, from a friend or colleague or whatever you wanna call me?"

"You're my friend, Stark, I'm Morgan's godmother for fuck's sake," you shot back at the same time that Loki said, "Well an annoyance would be the term I'd use, but go ahead."

"Try to have fun? You're going to your college reunion, Y/N. I'm sure you have some familiar faces you wanna say hi to, reminisce about your random acts of debauchery and dance with like you're 19 again at the club with your fake IDs trying to score some alcohol from the bartender that pretends those cards are legit?" He then turned his focus to Loki. "And you. Try to get some. Unless of course you're still miserably attached to Little Miss Prim and Prissy with a fifty foot pole because she doesn't wanna do the naked tango with you."

"What's a tango?" the smaller Stark queried, looking up from her workbook.

"It's a dance, baby," you answered her, smirking into your drink before you took a sip.

"Naked dancing, Auntie Y/N? I'm confused." The Logistics worker decided to take her leave at this moment, scurrying out of the room with a little nod toward everyone present.

"I know you are, baby." You walked over to her, ruffling her hair before placing a kiss on the top of the little girl's head. "Ask your parents about naked tangos. I'm not gonna be the one to talk to you about the birds and the bees."

"Birds and bees can dance with each other? But isn't a bee too small for a bird?"

"All excellent questions, sweetie." You gave Stark a mischievous look that would have done the god proud had it not been for the knots still sitting heavy in his stomach. "Good luck, Tony. And for the record? I wasn't a party girl in college. Some of us actually had to bury our noses in books and study our way to our degree. We can't all be genius billionaire playboy philanthropists."

"Ah, come on, jellybean, there had to be something you did for fun in college." The way you froze for a fraction of a second didn't go unnoticed by the god, but it seemed to slip past Stark and his daughter all too easily. "Just remember that this shouldn't just be a mission for you, you're gonna be among your old friends. Take a second to...I don't know, mingle. Catch up."

"Stark? The only reason I even agreed to go to the reunion is because of the mission. Our intel found evidence suggesting that HYDRA took over and repurposed a building in my old college and they might be housing volatile maybe even catastrophic kinds of compounds in there, and we're just going for a recon mission. In and out. The only purpose I'd have for mingling is wanting to see who in campus might be involved in the shady shit."

"Fine, whatever floats your boat, Y/L/N. At least go say hi to your old professors, though. Might make their entire year being able to brag to their incoming classes that they once mentored an Avenger back in the day."

For some reason those words from Stark had you freezing up even more, trying to mask it by nodding a little too vigorously before taking a swift leave to the kitchen area, setting your mug down. Loki took that as his opportunity to perhaps have a moment with you before you went off to your apartment for the night. He made his way to you, speaking just barely above a whisper. "Darling, I'm so sorry you had to hear that barb from Stark." His arms ached to simply reach over and pull you into an embrace, the only thing stopping him being the reminder that you both had agreed to keep your current entanglement with one another more private.

But he wanted more than anything to ignore that reminder completely. Especially after looking upon your features and seeing a blank stare of what he horrifyingly recognized as defeat in your eyes.

"It's fine, Mischief," you answered him, your voice monotonous and almost completely devoid of emotion. "He doesn't know he was talking about me. Serves me right anyway. Prim and prissy might as well be tattooed on my forehead."

The god's skin bristled with irritation hearing you repeat the billionaire's words as if you were already accepting of the new unwelcome moniker. "I should have a word with him. Tell him his remarks have the most undesired effect on you. He'll stop, I'm sure of it. Once he knows that it's you. Even be remorseful."

"You tell him and everyone will know," you deadpanned, your face remaining stoic as ever. "He'll tell everyone before the night's over and suddenly what's private isn't so private anymore. Is that what you want?"

He stood silent, staring at you with your blank expression that you'd given him since that disastrous night where Thor made the idiotic remarks that so efficiently drove a wedge between you two. A wedge he somehow didn't know how to dislodge. "I…I simply want for us to be okay."

His heart splintered seeing you give him something between a grimace and a small smile, shrugging before answering in the same flat tone, "Then we're okay."

Then why does it feel as if you're pushing me farther and farther away with every passing day? he wanted to ask you, the words weighing heavy on his tongue as he watched you walk away, back to your apartment. Why does it feel like I've lost you?

The level of guardedness you displayed ever since you stepped foot on your old campus put Loki on high alert. You always exhibited a calculated caution in missions, but this seemed beyond that. There was nothing in your stance that implied your readiness to fight and defend yourself, but rather there was a fear.

A readiness to run. To disappear.

Your shivering in his hold did nothing to convince him of any other explanation. Being here elicited a fear in you that he couldn't comprehend. As if there were ghosts from your past lurking in the shadowy corners of the dimly lit gymnasium.

"Oh my gosh, is that…Y/N?" a high-pitched voice shrieked over the thumping stereo, coming from a rather bubbly looking woman that was bounding toward you, arms outstretched with a wide beaming grin on her face. "I haven't seen you since graduation! Our old profs just can't stop talking about you and how proud they are that they taught an Avenger, they're hoping they get to see you tonight. Get a picture or two." She then turned her attention to Loki, jaw on the floor when he saw his arm gently wrapped around you. "Are you two--?!"

"Ohh! Uhm…no." You worked your way out of Loki's hold to give the woman a friendly embrace before turning back to face him. "Loki, this is Bianca, we shared a good number of classes together. Bianca, this is Loki, my uhh--" Your voice caught in your throat trying to find a word to describe the god.

I'm yours, little mortal. Plain and simple, he wanted to tell you, regardless of present company.

"We work together," you told her, the words worsening the sinking feeling that he had in his stomach. "Work's been a little slow lately so Stark assigned me to show him around and expose him to what a former college girl's life is like."

"College girl? You?" The woman burst into a fit of giggles. "Y/N you were many things when we roamed these halls, but you were more a mini professor than anything. I never once even saw you step foot at a frat party or a club…you were always just hanging out with--"

"You know what, you're absolutely right," you cut her off, your voice louder than normal even with the thumping music surrounding you all. "Loki, maybe you'd be better suited to learn from my old friends. Go off with Bianca, she and the other girls can't possibly steer you wrong."

The god's blood ran cold as your words hit him. He felt as if you were steering him away from you for more than just this moment. As if your sentiment held a poorly veiled secondary sentiment, pushing him away from you so that he could pursue someone else with your blessing.

He did his best to put on a casual smile, to politely decline your offering of your old campus friend. "I accompanied you to learn from you, little mortal," he spoke over the music, reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers between yours. "I wish to stay with you. You cannot rid yourself of me that easily."

"I'm not ridding myself of you, Mischief," you shot back, your friend's eyes darting rapidly between the two of you before slowly stepping away. "It's more of the other way around. We both know that I'm holding you back, so here's your exit--"

"I don't want an exit, Y/N, I want you," he insisted through gritted teeth, fighting every urge to lead you both into a more secluded corner so you could talk this out without having to shout just so you could hear each other. "I wish to be with you, regardless of--"

"Well as I live and breathe, that's a face I didn't think I'd see again." Your eyes widened hearing the voice of the man that approached you next, your pulse beating so furiously that Loki could see it pumping against your neck.

This was definitely not one of your former classmates. The man was middle-aged, his hair obviously colored to mask the silver that was peeking through at the roots as well as his eyebrows. He did what he could to dress himself in line with what was considered stylish but so clearly missed the mark. And emphasizing his age further was the clearly decades younger woman he had as his companion, looking as if she belonged in his classroom rather than in his bedroom.

"Prof--Professor Richardson," you stammered, the breathy almost fearful tone in your voice immediately putting the god on high alert. "Bianca m-mentioned you and the other guys were here tonight."

"Oh, come on Y/N it's been years since you had yourself folded into those awkward armchairs, there's no need to be so formal with me. Please, call me Simon. In fact, I should probably be a touch more formal with you, considering that one of my favorite students is now my favorite Avenger." His eyes quickly darted to the god's. "No offense, dude. You're pretty great, too. There's just something about those spandex suits, you know?"

You gripped Loki's hand tighter for a fraction of a second as the man's eyes roamed your form unabashedly, the spiteful jealousy from his companion written all over her face.

He didn't wait for you to introduce him again as someone you simply 'worked with', choosing to speak up to hopefully soothe your very obvious unease. "I must agree with you there, Y/N quite a remarkable agent." He extended his hand out toward your professor. "I'm Loki. Y/N's boyfriend."

Your breath caught in your throat in a strangled sound at the word, looking up at the god with wide eyes before trying to compose yourself again. Before you could speak, however, Simon did.

"Well if she's as remarkable a girlfriend as she was a student, then you have yourself a real catch right here. You're quite the lucky man--god, I mean." The woman next to him cleared her throat conspicuously loudly, the tail end of it sounding more like a muffled shriek, calling Simon's attention to her. He eyed her with a bit of irritation before turning back to you. "Oh where are my manners? This is Deena. I'm her thesis advisor for her graduating year."

"Oh…that's…" You were quite clearly struggling to form words. You addressed the student instead, your eyes quickly darting to the way she gripped her professor's arm so tightly before looking back at her. "Wow. You're quite the lucky young lady. Professor Richardson mentioned back then that he rarely took on the role of advisor. I'm sure your proposal was nothing short of remarkable."

The student offered you a tight smile in response, opening her mouth to speak before your former professor perked up again. "In all these years, nobody still quite measures up to you, though, Miss Y/L/N. Oh, sorry. Agent Y/L/N." He shifted his gaze to address the god once more. "It was a bleak day when I had to give her her final grade for her final course with me."

He reached his hand out toward you which you took with a slight tremor in your fingers. Loki way too easily heard the gasp that slipped out of you when Simon took your hand in both of his, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your fingers.

"I hope to see you around some more while you're in town, Y/N." The way he rolled the syllables of your name, like he was savoring a taste on his tongue, didn't sight right with the Asgardian. He was the only one that could speak your name like that. At least…he hoped he still could.

"Yeah…s-sure," you mumbled, jerking your hand out of the professor's hand, subtly wiping the back of it on your skirt when you smoothed your hands over your dress. "En--Enjoy the rest of your night, Simon. Deena." You nodded your head at both of them before walking away abruptly, inadvertently towing Loki behind you.

As you put more distance between you and your former professor, the god heard a muffled sentiment from Simon to his companion. "Of course not, sweet thing, you know you're the only one for me."

There weren't many things that could catch the god off guard, but hearing those words from your former professor sent a slight chill down his spine, the confirmation of his initial suspicions written in black and white. Making him wonder now what your true history with the man that put both of you at a state of unease was.

"Darling, are you alright?" He held you closer to him as the crowd became denser, too many people surrounding you and pushing against you as you moved. "You're cold."

"I'm fine." He could barely hear you over the speakers. "I just need some air, I can barely hear myself think in here."

He didn't need to be told twice; this type of environment wasn't agreeable with him, either. Once you'd both stepped through the doors of the gymnasium and the air no longer tasted of alcohol and sweat, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"What was that for?" you breathed out, the dazed tone of your voice making him hold you just a touch tighter.

He hadn't the full picture of what had your fight or flight kicking in to an extent he'd never seen on you before, but he held faith that when you were ready, you would tell him. For now, he would do what he could to at least ease your discomfort.

"Can I not simply wish to hold you, my love?"

You briefly wrapped your arms around him, returning his embrace before you took a step away from him, smoothing your hands over your dress once more. "Come on. I wanna find the lab and be done with this mission. Get back to New York sooner rather than later and all that."

His heart splintered even worse in his chest, his suspicion that your stepping away from him was more than simply physical now. That the last fortnight that he'd spent sleeping in his own apartment devoid of the simplest pleasure of having you in his arms as he slept through the night would be how he'd be spending the rest of his nights moving forward. He was at a loss for what he could do to somehow amend your relationship moving forward short of locking you both in a room and offering an ultimatum.

Tell him how he could fix the rift that was caused by Thor's callous words, or tell him that what he feared had finally found its way into your reality. Tell him that there was nothing he could do to mend the damage and that things were truly over between you.

"As you wish, little mortal."

You led him through a search that was guised as an inebriated tour through your alma mater, going through each building with information that you'd either gathered there from firsthand experience from your college years, or from information you amassed looking through testimonials of various alumni.

"Ooh! Come on, I wanna show you something that might just make you proud." You made an entire performance of stumbling toward the god and reaching for his hand, guiding him with carefully choreographed steps backwards with a few planned near slip-ups where you seemed to trip on air and almost fall bum first onto the floor before catching yourself at the last second.

"Don't you know well enough by now, darling, that you constantly impress me?" he shot back at you with a chuckle, fighting every urge to lose himself in the ruse you were both putting on. He wanted more than anything to have this be akin to those films that your fellow teammates were so fond of watching, where the couple would find an empty classroom and proceed to kiss and paw at each other like animals in heat.

He'd found those scenarios so trite before, but he found himself admitting that he was more than open to the idea if the opportunity presented itself with you. He would be willing to do just about anything with you at his side.

"Come on, Mischief," you sing-songed, giggling your way to the heart of one of the buildings dedicated for the science-centric curriculum. "I'm taking to to the lab where we used to brew our own beer. Mix our own booze. You're gonna love it, it's like we were witches brewing potions in here--"

You play-acted your way to stumbling through the double doors of the laboratory, only to be met with resistance and the visual of a thick chain wrapped around the door handles. Immediately you righted your stance, the god signaling to you that he'd taken care of the security cameras. He'd chosen to feed them footage of the two of you indulging in one of those slightly risqué scenarios in the corridor.

With a wave of his hand, the chains materialized on the floor by Loki's feet, and you pushed the doors open to reveal exactly what you'd been looking for. The tables were littered with documents and notes that were watermarked with HYDRA's sigil, each designated work station housing its own compound that when put in the wrong hands, could be utilized in the most sadistic manners.

You went on to look into the filing cabinets that held more research reports while he rounded the table that held the compound surrounded by the most amount of notes scribbled on to the logo-branded papers. He felt the bile rising steadily up his throat at the findings.

Subjects that are exposed to this compound even in its aerated form will feel an intense emotional attachment to the closest set of pheromones within their vicinity, enslaving them to the holder for an indeterminate amount of time. Potency strengthens if the compound is ingested. Theoretically catastrophic potency if somehow introduced directly into subject's bloodstream. Effects inconclusive if holder severs the emotional attachment before the compound has had a chance to be flushed from subject's system, but theoretically, the more potent the remaining dosage that is yet to be metabolized, the more catastrophic the aftermath.

"Darling, they might be experimenting on these students," Loki said grimly, rushing over to you the moment he spotted how much paler your knuckles became from how hard you were gripping the countertop. "What's wrong?"

"There are reports dating back to before you even got to Earth," you told him, the shakiness of your tone at its worst as you tried to speak through the tears bubbling up inside you. "Back to when I was still here."

He thumbed through the report that you were perusing and had to fight every urge to set fire to the entire operation and lay waste to the names that he'd found on the user tests. The most frequent one being the man that he had the displeasure of meeting earlier, Simon Richardson. "These other names, were they your other professors?" You only nodded. He didn't know whether to be relieved or even more horrified realizing that the subject names were kept confidential, hidden under monikers such as "Subject 12-29-A", "Subject 12-29-B" and so forth.

"I think the first number's the year. 12 is 2012. And the second number might be a batch number." You took a few deep breaths before straightening your stance and looking for the nearest computer, fiddling with the comms bracelet that Shuri had equipped you with before you left New York. "Shuri, are you there?"

"I am here, I am here. How is the college party? I have never actually been to one since--"

"Since you're so smart you should probably be teaching these classes, I know I know." A bit of your liveliness came back speaking with the young genius. Loki could even hear a slight smile in your voice. "Could you pull off a remote duplication? I wanna get these experimentation reports to you guys so that we can already start on next moves before Laufeyson and I even get back to New York."

"Does the sun rise in the East, my friend?" The Wakandan princess began to laugh from her end of the call, the sound filling the room. "Put your bracelet near the device and let me do my magic." You did as she instructed, holding your wrist near the computer's power source and a few short moments later, she spoke again. "All done. We will see you when you get back."

"Thanks, Shuri. We'll wrap it up here. I'll see you guys in the morning."

As you shut off your comms and both of you proceeded to place things back exactly where you found them, ensuring that you lessened your chances of HYDRA suspecting anyone had rifled through their research, there was yet another thought that led to a pit forming in Loki's stomach.

What if one of the test subjects in those reports was you?

Loki laid awake, restless, in bed since you both got back to your suite, doing his best to somehow induce slumber upon himself so that he wouldn't have to fight against his mind wandering back to those reports, wondering if one of the subjects that was detailed within those pages could be referring to you. As well as fighting against the parts of him that feared you were pushing him away, forcing his hand into letting you go even if that was the last thing he would ever wish to do.

He had to make a note to give that oaf Thor a swift stab for so thoroughly jeopardizing what could have possibly been the best thing to happen to him. He was more than content with you, he was happy. He could picture what a future with you would be like.

And yes, it would be nice if your relationship would have a physical aspect to it, but that was no dealbreaker for the god. He didn't need it right this second, and for you, he would wait until you reached that level of comfort with him. At your own pace.

He would wait. Even if it meant he waited forever.

Yet here you both were now, sleeping in separate beds in separate rooms all because you believed that he would be better off with someone who had no compunctions on disrobing with him at a moment's notice. He could already feel you slipping away despite how desperately he tried to hold on to you.

The sound of your unrest had him sitting up on his bed, a series of whimpers and cries being heard from your bedroom. What got him darting out and bursting through your door, however, was your scream of "Please no I've been good to you! Why would you do this to me?!"

In a heartbeat he was by your side, cradling you against his chest and trying to wake you from your nightmare. "Shh shh, little mortal, you're safe, please wake up."

"I never told a soul I don't even look at you when there's other people please don't leave me," you kept whimpering, your words hitting the god like bullets straight to his heart. Were you having a nightmare about him?

"I'm here, my love, please. I'm not going anywhere just please wake up," he pleaded desperately, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he pressed multiple kisses to your templed. "I'm here I'll never leave you. Please darling, I love you."

You finally began to breathe a bit slower in his arms, moving so that you were looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Loki?"

Had he been on his feet, the sight of you so distraught would have brought the god to his knees. "Oh my sweet mortal." He cupped your face, wiping your tears away before he pressed a kiss between your brows. He wordlessly maneuvered you into his arms so that he could carry you out of bed and into the kitchen area, fetching you a glass of water.

"I can't--" You sounded as if you were trying to speak through a lump in your throat, more tears falling from your eyes. "I can't talk about--"

"No, darling, it's alright." He placed his hands on your shoulders, trying to guide you into evening out your breaths. "You don't need to tell me anything you're not ready to."

"I want to," you insisted, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. "I just--I can't bring myself to say the words, but I need you to know…why. Why I can't--" You cut off with a squeak, gripping the sides of your stool so tightly he feared the metal would start hurting you, so he took them into his hands instead. "Why I can't be with you…physically."

"Darling, please I've told you I don't need--"

"No, you should know. I…I need you to know. I just can't…articulate the words." You started breathing the same way that you would when you would run with the rest of the team, as if your body was compensating for lack of oxygen the best it could. Or as if you were preparing yourself for something particularly uncomfortable. "But I can show you."

"Y/N what are you--"

"I want you to look into my memories. I want you to see. And understand what I can't tell you with words."

He framed your face with his hands, urging you to look at him before he followed through with your request. "Are you absolutely certain, my love?" You just stared at him with your red-rimmed tear-stricken eyes, the surrender and pain in them breaking his heart more than your stoic monotonous attitude from the past weeks ever could. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. "Alright."

He pulled up a seat close to yours, bracing himself for what he would find once he entered your memories. He was terrifyingly right to have done so, because the moment he was hit with the torrents of memories, he would have been brought to his knees had he been upright.

You're such a bright young lady. Such a shame that your peers refuse to see that. How about we grab a cup of coffee? Enjoy it in the faculty area? It'll be way more comfortable than sitting on the floor for the next three hours.

I was supposed to have dinner with some of the other professors but the weather in their area has them stuck at home. Would you like to join me instead? It'd be a shame for the reservation to go to waste.

Loki had to fight back the urge to retch as the visual of Simon Richardson leaning in to kiss you hit him next. And the distant attitude that he extended to you the following day on campus as you crossed paths in the hallway.

It won't be wise for us to be seen together or else people are going to start suspecting something going on. I'll get into trouble, just because we love each other. Of course I love you, silly sweet thing, you're the only one I've ever felt this way for.

He saw multiple occurrences of the professor dropping your hand the second someone even unfamiliar to either of you rounded the corner, a guilt eating away at him as he realized he'd done the same thing with you. He simply didn't want you to have to be exposed to the judgment from the team for being involved with him.

Nobody can know. It has to be our little secret. You understand, don't you? How about we go away somewhere for the weekend? Just you and me? Somewhere where we can actually be a couple. Do couple things. We could walk around and hold hands without being scared of getting caught. I could kiss you whenever and wherever. We could just be…us.

Loki wanted more than anything to look away from the memories of your first night with Richardson. From the way that he was so careless with your body, so ignorant of your pleasure and yet he mumbled empty sentiments of love all throughout the night, insisting that he loved you despite his eyes staying empty. Calculating.

And just a few short weeks after that, and a few more nights spent at his place, you went to campus one morning. And he'd begun to go out for coffee with another student. Someone from the batch of freshmen that had just come in. Your messages went unanswered, your calls were met with the generic voice message prompt.

He discarded you once he had what he desired from you, and foolishly concluded that he could do better.

As if there was anyone better.

When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred from his own tears, the guilt steadily wearing him down as your explanation hit him as if they were bricks being catapulted his way. Was this the reason you were so hesitant to share his bed? You were afraid that once he claimed your body, he would replace you with another?

Your words from two weeks ago haunted him. If you want to be with someone else, just promise me you'll tell me and leave me first.

"My love," he choked, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I could never do something so vile. Not to you. Never to you. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," you answered weakly, your sniffles breaking him even more. "You didn't know." You made a motion to move out of his arms, the fear seeping into him again that you were going to completely pull away again, making him hold on to your hands tightly. Desperately. "Come on, we have to get some sleep. We're going back to New York in the morning."

"Do you wish to be alone?" He could barely form the words, desperately pleading silently for you to allow him to stay with you tonight.

"No," you confessed, shifting nervously where you stood. "But I don't want you to feel obligated because of what you saw--"

"I won't leave you." The words came out of him in a rush, his lips quivering as he pressed a kiss to your forehead again, trying to calm himself. Trying his best not to march his way back to campus and personally see to it that that wretched excuse of a man not only paid for what he'd done to you, but ensure that he would never do this to another innocent unsuspecting woman ever again.

Trying to remind himself that his need to ensure that you were alright at this moment was greater than his desire to have Simon Richardson's head on a spike.

"You say that now, but we know that one day you're going to be tired of waiting. You have needs--"

"I need you more. I want you more," he insisted, burying his nose in your hair, your presence keeping him grounded. "I promised you I would spend my days proving my devotion to you. I more than intend to keep this promise. I am yours, precious little mortal." He kissed a path to your ear. "All I want at this moment is to stay with you tonight. Let me hold you. Let me try to fight your night terrors away."

It was as if a weight was lifted off his chest when you wordlessly nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him carry you back to your bedroom.

Loki held you through the night, relieved that you didn't stir in his arms or show any sign that you might have fallen into another nightmare. However, the god was now haunted by a memory of his own. One from the first few days of your relationship.

Darling, I think it best that perhaps…we don't tell the others quite yet that we've become involved. Grant ourselves the privacy that they won't.

His own words echoed in his mind, taunting him of the monumental mistake he'd made asking you to agree to such selfish terms. How he enforced that agreement by committing actions that eerily echoed the very memories that haunted you now.

He remembered the look in your eyes when he uttered those words, asking you to aid him in hiding your relationship away from the rest of the team. When he closed his eyes he could see the crestfallen expression on your face so vividly, making him despise himself for ever causing you to mar your features with that pain you tried to hide from him.

And finally…the realization that gutted him. You never agreed to those terms. All you said in response was "That makes sense".

You simply surrendered.

"I'm so sorry, my darling mortal," he spoke into the darkness, holding you just a fraction tighter, fearing that if he let go even in the slightest, you might slip away from him. "I'll make things better. I will do right by you, I swear it."

A/N: Lemme just…slide a dagger Loki's way real quick. 😤😤

And lemme offer this as my apology for this chapter…

I can promise u that Simon will get what's coming to him in the final part of this story. And I can promise that Loki will in fact make things right with his bb 🥺🥺

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @cabingrlandrandomcrap

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eveningepiphany · 1 year

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masterlist ✭

hello and welcome to my official masterlist! this will be updated regularly with every new work i post. thank you for all your ongoing support, all my love <3

the list is rather short at the moment, however it will continue to grow over time and we’ll definitely get a few series in here!

feel free to send in requests here

[*] indicates smut

—ONESHOTS (2022)

sick

Y/N is looking after harry when he’s got a bad case of the flu, and even though they’re both just friends, it’s clear they see each other as more than that.

and they were roommates*

when harry and Y/N have gone from longtime best friends to roommates, the lines that have been slowly blurring since their teen years are beginning to disappear altogether.

hotel room*

harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

mistletoe*

[part one] [part two*]

you’re with the band at anne’s house the week of christmas and harry points out you’re both standing under a mistletoe.

—ONESHOTS (2023)

learn to knock*

not knocking on your door has led to harry walking in on you… with your hand between your legs.

lessons*

sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.

far from sober

[part one] [part two]

you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.

manbun*

harry and you are about to fuck in the back of his car, and you want his hair out for it. little do you know how much he likes a bit of hair pulling.

butterfly*

you’re on a holiday with your family and family friends— including harry— who hasn’t had a shirt on this whole time and things amp up quickly in your hotel room.

reconnect*

lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.

innocent*

while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

tease*

seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

go with it

your ex boyfriend— someone you never want to talk to again— is searching for you at a party. trying to do anything to deter him or get away, you spot harry, and a plan comes to fruition.

SERIES—

welcome to the final show

you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later. leading to an exchange of numbers, and a lot of falling in love.

[part one]

[part two]

[part three]

[part four]*

pirates gold

being a royal, you always knew you were meant to keep your wits about you. despite never fitting into your status, a lapse of your judgement leads you to getting taken captive by a group of pirates, and their captain, Harry.

[part one]

Insatiable*

harry is a prince, natalia is a spy for his court. both of them can’t stand one another, but natalia having to take any direct information she learns about the attempt on his life directly to him seems to put the pair in an interesting dynamic.

[part one]

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #fanfiction #masterlist #harry styles fanfiction

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

eddie knows that steve’s house isn’t a home. that he doesn't really actually feel comfortable there, or safe. it makes eddie sad every time he's over, along with the lack of photos and art and personality that could make it a home. he still stays over fairly often, sleeps in steve's bed, makes coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, lounges on the sofa.

steve’s parents come back without warning one day and find eddie and steve kissing in the kitchen.

nothing scandalous or inappropriate or anything like that. they’re both smiling, leaning over their coffee cups to peck each other's lips, (and eddie thinks the harringtons have the worst timing in all of human existence, because this is the first time they’ve kissed today), but catherine claps her hand over her mouth like they walked in on them fucking on the dining table. steve barely reacts when they walk in. he just sips his coffee slowly.

walter tells him to leave. his voice is quiet and lethally calm, and steve does as he says. eddie follows.

steve moves in with eddie that day, into the apartment the government gave them after the trailer was destroyed. it’s small, only slightly bigger than the trailer was, with two bedrooms. steve stays overnight enough that he practically already lives there, but now eddie makes space in his drawers for steve’s clothes. it doesn’t take long for their clothes to combine.

steve is quiet for a while after moving in. he doesn’t say much, doesn’t really look into eddie’s or wayne’s eyes.

wayne comes close and hugs him when he starts to cry, murmuring that he’s home now, that everything was gonna be okay. steve falls asleep in his arms when he finally stops crying.

steve doesn’t say it, but eddie knows he feels like a burden. one more stomach to feed, one more load of laundry. even with the hush money, times are tough. especially when no one will hire eddie.

so eddie reminds him as often as he can that he’s home. that nothing he and wayne do for him are favours, or just them being nice. that they love him and want him safe and cared for. he wakes him up by pressing kisses across his face, and he watches sports games with him (and asks questions so he can actually follow along), and he remembers how he takes his coffee, and he tells him every chance he can that he loves him. even silently, squeezing his hand under tables in public.

he knows steve doesn’t really believe him. or at least, that it’s hard for steve to believe him. it wouldn’t be easy, not when his own parents never said the words, when they told him without a second thought to leave the house he grew up in. he knows that steve doesn’t quite feel at home in the apartment, that he feels like he doesn’t belong there.

even though eddie and wayne do everything they can to make him feel safe, to make him feel at home. wayne comes home one day with printed photographs that he got after talking to joyce. photos of steve with his friends, with eddie and robin and nancy and jonathan, with the kids. photos jonathan took of them during campaigns, during movie nights and parties at the harrington house. the photos go up on the walls in eddie and steve’s room.

(except one. it’s a photo of eddie and steve on the sofa in the wheeler basement, steve laying on eddie’s chest, looking up into his eyes, playing with the guitar pick on his chest, and eddie is smiling softly at him, his arm around his neck, his fingers in his hair. eddie doesn’t even remember what they were talking about, just that he felt warm and cosy and safe. the photo is on the fridge. it’s wayne’s favourite.)

it takes a while for steve to get comfortable at the apartment.

eddie gets to watch it happen. at first, steve sits stiffly on the sofa unless he’s with eddie. (he likes to lean into him.) but after a while he starts to pull his legs up onto the sofa as he watches games with wayne or movies with eddie, sitting cross-legged or pulling his knees to his chest. for a while he needs eddie’s help remembering where the dishes go in the kitchen, which cups go in which cabinet, which order wayne’s mugs go in on the shelves. but he eventually stops asking.

one day eddie comes home from band practice to find steve doing the dishes. he’s wearing one of wayne’s flannels.

he wears eddie’s clothes often enough. usually his t-shirts and sweaters when they haven’t done the laundry, but he’s never worn anything of wayne’s.

‘hey, baby.’

eddie is stuck in the doorway, the strap of his bag still between his fingers, and steve turns to look over his shoulder at him.

‘eds?’

‘hi,’ eddie says weakly, looking at him. the flannel is rolled up to his elbows, and when steve turns to look at him in concern, eddie sees that the flannel is hanging open to reveal one of eddie’s motörhead shirts.

‘hey,’ steve says, quickly shutting off the water and drying his hands before he comes over, holding eddie’s face as eddie’s eyes fill with tears. ‘did something happen? what’s wrong?’

‘no,’ eddie chokes, blinking tears out of his eyes and dropping his bag to the floor. steve wipes the tears away tenderly, kissing his lips softly. ‘i’m fine, stevie.’

‘why are you crying?’

‘’m just…’ he takes a sharp breath, reaching up to hold steve’s waist, pushing under the flannel and holding him tightly. ‘kinda like… overwhelmed? with how much i love you? and how— how happy i am?’

steve’s face softens.

‘baby,’ he breathes. eddie’s lip quivers. he slides his hands to grip the lapels of the flannel before he reaches to trace the scars around his neck. ‘i love you too.’

eddie pulls him into a hug, holding him tightly as he waits for his tears to stop. steve waits with him, playing with the ends of his curls, running a hand up and down his back. eddie is sniffling when he finally stops crying, and steve holds his face in his hands, wiping his cheeks and kissing him softly, over and over, until eddie is giggling, smelling the dish soap on his hands.

but eddie just starts crying again when steve says casually and easily and lightly, ‘do you know what time wayne is coming home?’

#home ✨#having emotions #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie oneshot #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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bunny-yan · 11 months

Text

Yandere!Fan x Idol!gn!reader

TW: kidnapping, mentions stalking, bondage, violence, self-harm, minors DNI

—

You woke up in complete darkness.

It wouldn’t have been odd if you could move your arms or legs, but your hands were tied firmly together, wrists chafing from the rope and it made you thankful that you’d chosen to wear sweatpants before going to bed that night.

Your legs weren’t an exception.

Your ankles hurt, the ball located in both were rubbing against each other painfully and you shifted to try and alleviate some of the pressure it was causing.

From your lack of sight, you assumed that whoever tied you up had also blindfolded you and you didn’t bother to shout for help due to the gag they’d also shoved in your mouth.

It was surprisingly the first time that someone had succeeded in kidnapping you.

You’d always heard about things like this happening to the other, more popular idols, but you knew that you weren’t as lucky to avoid experiencing some of the things they told horror stories about.

You had your fair share of stalkers, following you home and leaving you questionable gifts that differed from the regular fan mail, although it was in its own category considering the amount of romantic declarations you received from desperate fans.

There were times where you’d almost been stabbed by a jealous fan or dragged into a van, but your agency hired bodyguards that you considered pretty competent considering you’d walked away from both situations with nothing more than a few scratches, if that.

When you got out of whatever this was, you’d be sure to let your manager know that you’d need replacements, but that would have to wait for when you could actually move and see.

“You’re awake!” you heard a voice say, your body locking in response as you resisted the urge to turn towards the sound of the voice. It was androgynous. You weren’t quite sure if leaned towards the feminine or masculine side, not that it mattered. You were more concerned about why seeing someone tied up seemed perfectly reasonable. Of course, you assumed that this was the person who’d kidnapped you, but a part of you could only hope that it was all just a big misunderstanding.

The sound of footsteps made your heart beat faster and you flinched away from the hand that touched you near your ear, but you blinked wildly when the blindfold was pulled off your head to free your sight.

The first thing you noticed was the huge grin on your kidnapper’s face.

He looked young. Older than high school, bordering on college young.

“I’m Harper and I am your number one fan.”

Your eyes took a moment to adjust and when you gained the courage to look away from the nervous stranger, you noticed the room you were in wasn’t very large. It had a bed tucked near the fall wall, a desk that had nothing other than a picture frame with contents unknown since you were sitting in a small chair right next to it, and pictures, photographs, newspaper cut outs, and magazine prints of you covering every inch of every wall.

“I-I’m sorry if the rope is too tight. I’ve never really done this before.” he said, having the decency to look embarrassed, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from the wall. In particular the far wall near the bed with photographs of you… sleeping.

You’d never done a photoshoot in bedwear and the lamp in the photograph was unmistakable for the one you kept on your bedside table so how did this person photograph you in your house? How did they get past the security?

Your eyes snapped back to him, a tinge of fear locking in your spine as you regarded him cautiously.

He was rambling, staring at you as if you would disappear any moment before blushing and looking away when he became too embarrassed.

He said he was your fan. His name was Harper. He-

Harper?

You remember seeing that name near the top of your concert attendees.

It was an arduous task to go through your attendee list now that you were relatively famous, but it was a habit your had in your early career days that you had yet to break. Your memory was decent, but the only reason you found the name so familiar is because it was always present, even in your early days as an idol, Harper was always on the attendee list for any of the events you held.

He wasn’t lying. He was a fan. And he had been following you since the start of your career. The magazine cut outs with your former group members X'ed out faces was only further proof.

Something that made you smile, giving you determination to keep going knowing you had fans behind you, terrified you to no end now. It made you feel dirty.

Was this always his intention when he came to your shows? Was he silently plotting ways to kidnap you while attending your concerts?

“It’s just surreal.” he said, voice dream-like as he edged closer to the chair you were sitting in. “Your last concert you were so close that I felt I could reach out and touch you and now…” His hand seemed to extend before he even realized what he was doing, but he quickly slammed it to his chest when you flinched away.

“I’m sorry!” he said, dropping to his knees as he looked at you desperate and horrified. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m just so stupid.”

Expression turning dark, it was as if he turned into someone else as his hand balled into a fist and he began hitting himself over the head.

“Stupid, stupid. Why would they want you touch them? You fucking idiot.”

It was brutal. You wondered if he was going to give himself a concussion and after a particularly sick thud you winced, capturing his attention once again.

“Are you okay?”

You wanted to ask him that.

Inching closer on his knees, he wrung his hands together violently.

“You’re my number one.” he confessed softly. “It felt as if I was being saved the first time I saw you perform.”

You felt light-headed watching him.

“You might not remember but you spoke to me once during a meet and greet. I told you about my life and about how I felt useless and that no one needed me and you gave me courage. You told me the world would notice if I was gone and I’ve followed you ever since.”

It was hard to forget a complete stranger trauma dumping on you. It had been so long that you hadn’t remembered until he brought it up, but you knew what he was talking about.

He looked younger than he was now, distraught and on the verge of tears. You didn’t really know how to handle a situation like that, but you were afraid he’d do something he’d regret if you didn’t tell him something. It was staggering that arbitrary words you said so long ago had effected him and you to this extent.

“You saved my life.” he said again. “And I saved you!”

What?

“I’d seen the way the others would look at you. I mean, they can’t help it. You’re too dazzling. But they’d talk about the horrible things they would do to you if they ever got a chance to be with you and if you’d seen some of the things they wrote about on the online forums…”

You’d seen it. It was definitely not for the faint hearted, but you simply ignored things like that, chalking it up as something you would just have to endure given your profession.

“I wanted to kill them. I wanted to hunt each and every one of them down and make them regret ever demeaning you like that, but it wouldn’t ever stop. It would continue as long as you continued to perform, but now you don’t have to worry about that anymore!”

He gulped, eyes going hazy as he continued to inch closer to the base of the chair.

“No one is ever going to look at you again. They’ll be left wondering where you went and it’ll be hard to forget you, but it’ll happen. Eventually. And then we can be happy!”

His grin faded into a serious expression as he grabbed the armrests on the chairs.

“Just me and you. My idol and your number one fan.”

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #idol reader #yandere fan

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chaos-mix · 5 months

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The Choices the Stars Make - 14th Doctor x reader

Summary: The Doctor promised you the stars when all you ever wanted was him. What happens when he’s finally ready to settle down? Will he reach out and try again?

Word count: 818

~~~~~~~~

You pull your blanket up higher as you turn to watch the stars shinning through the living room window. It does little to soothe the aching of your heart as your mind keeps spinning in “What ifs?”. What if you hadn’t left the doctor? What if you hadn’t asked him to stay?

You shake your head at the unfairness of the situation, turning your back on the cold stars, facing your laptop screen.

You squint at the brightness. The universe has never been fair. It wasn’t when you watched people crying out for your help die, and neither was it when you were forced to confess your true feelings to the Doctor. His discomfort and shift in body language did not surprise you, nor did his lack of touch in the weeks that followed. You just wish he hadn’t taken all of the joy of the night sky with him when you left.

Focus. You told yourself, but your heart sunk further, your fingertips getting cold on the plastic mousepad.

Observational Astronomy. A dry laugh forces its way out of your chest, making you feel hollow. You used to dance around the surfaces of planets, experience the sights never seen, the Tardis translating the x-ray and ultraviolet light spectrum for your eyes to witness true beauty of nebulas … now you’re finishing up a paper on observational astronomy and the photographs were in black and white. Life is funny like that. It feels like life lost some of the colour too. You wish it wasn’t 2am, life is easier to handle when you don’t have to stay up at night to work on something. Especially something that reminds you of him. Days are easier, warmth is easier. Warmth reminds you of joy of adventure, his hands, the kindness. Not his eyes when he left you.

~~~~~~~~

The Doctor did not seek you out. He did not wander the streets close to your house for too long. He did, however, made sure that no threats lingered close to your apartment at all times.

At least until his old face returned.

Oh so many regrets felt thrown back at his face. What he wasn’t able to give. The loved ones he lost… He grieved Rose for a long, long time, even after you met him. That same grief drove Martha away. Donna… River Song… He should have been able to save them all. How could he protect you if he couldn’t even keep his life as John Smith? And you knew. You saw him fall in love, you saw him live a normal life. He knows he hurt you beyond forgiveness when he grieved his human life and yet, despite all of that grief, did not choose to build one with you.

Seeing Donna again had him longing for the old days. The days of the three of you jumping through the universe, watching the joy on your faces! That was until the Earth got taken over by the Master he forced your feelings out in the open. Doctor could not deal with reliving his past through you. He couldn’t stomach losing you. He couldn’t make Donna go through the same darkness that Martha did when he was still grieving. Not to even mention Time Lord Victorious. His biggest regret. At least you were saved from watching it happen.

But now… now that he did not need to save the universe… now that he had someone else to entrust it to and now that the biggest decision of his day was how to protect the moles from Wilf… maybe he could give you the life you wanted after all.

~~~~~~

Your phone buzzed one day after the lectures and you instinctively answered it, expecting it to be one of your parents checking in. It was a rash decision you made to switch universities, but with all the stress of studying medicine and the flashbacks of lives you couldn’t save, switching to something familiar was an easier choice.

“Hello, yes, I’m still studying astronomy. No, I will not end up starving in the streets when I’m done.”

“…So you decided to study the stars?”

That… was not a voice you expected. Not that you would ever in a million years expect the Doctor to call you. He was someone who buried down feelings. He did not call ex-companions, only companions in trouble called him.

“… Doctor?” You chocked up. Funny. You planned to say so many things during all those sleepless nights and now all you could manage is “Is something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, the Doctor smiled a lopsided smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, but the words warmed his hearts. He still had time to turn back. He could run away and never look back.

But that soft kindness in your voice, even after all these years…

“Would you have some time to meet an old friend?”

#doctor who x reader #10th doctor x reader #14th doctor x reader #fanfiction #doctor who angst #doctor who hurt/comfort

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a-certain-romance · 1 year

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Don’t be surprised when you get bent over

Characters/Ships: Ei, Miko, & Jean x fem!reader

Synopsis: You can’t avoid them forever <3

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, fingering (Miko), some somno (Ei), oral R receiving (Ei), overstimulation (Ei), teasing (Jean), face-sitting (Jean)

Ei wouldn’t call it an obsession. You’ve been slowly introducing her to Kamera mechanisms and she’s been hooked ever since. Her curiosity since her time spent with the traveler has been eye-opening, and as a surprise gift to Ei you went out and bought her one. She never really had much free time as it is, and now her hobby draws her to every small crevice of Inazuma. She finds herself accompanying her soldiers to various military camps or meetings with small villages, and not only do the experiences enhance her skills but it also becomes a way for Ei to re-familiarizes herself with Inazuma’s culture and landscape.

You support her, obviously, until it starts to keep her out of the bed. Despite her day time exploration the one thing you can always count on (unless she was on a long trip) was that she would meet you in bed and hold you until the both of you fell asleep. But now Ei is out in the middle of the night focusing on the stars, while you shiver in a bed that lacks Ei’s warmth.

Hatching a plan to get her attention was fairly simple; all it took was a lewd promise for her to come running. You spent the entire day out, not on the streets in the city but wandering around in the plains and cozying up to the wild foxes. You debated whether to not Ei would be home once the sun set, but then you remembered that tonight was supposed to be a full moon, and figured Ei would want to photograph that as well. You went to sleep early after finishing a meal prepped by the cooks and didn’t think of much else.

As you slept, you had the best dream about Ei. She tied you up to the bed posts and was eating you out as if she were starving for you. Her tongue felt so soft yet firm on your clit as she licked away at your cunt. And the best part was that it felt so real. Every swipe of her tongue left you feeling in so much bliss. But the sounds were getting echoey, and the spike of pleasure felt too good to be just a dream.

You opened your eyes to find that your arms were in fact restrained: wrists tied around in intricate little bows, just how long were you asleep? Your lower half remained free, but was extremely sore and sensitive. Ei’s arms hooked possessively around your legs, her head buried between them as the rest lay limp over her shoulders.

Your movement brings her back from her haze. Her lustful eyes, her cocky grin; fuck you can feel yourself dripping at just the sight of her.

“At last, you’re awake. You make the cutest expressions when you asleep, did you know that?” Those last few words were mumbled in your pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure. Ei chuckles against you, “Though I suppose that is from my doing”

Her tongue moved around you, paying extra special attention to your sensitive clit. You whine and dig your heels into her back as you start to grind against her face. Your thrusts, almost automatically, start to speed up and soon Ei is licking up your mess.

Just as you’re catching your breath, Ei replaces her tongue with her fingers against your pussy lips. “I intend to keep you up til dawn,” Ei eyes bore into your own as she looks up at you from above your navel,

“A shogun doesn’t back down on her word”

Like Ei, Jean’s ignorance comes from a new hobby as well. You’ve noticed that Jean’s mental fatigue has been increasing for a while now. She’s been dealing with the stress in more physical ways: meditation, training, massages from you that sometimes lead to more. Yet she can’t shake off the feeling that wears her down at the days end.

You’re a library aide, training to become a librarian alongside Lisa. During one of your afternoon tea breaks she brings up the idea of reading. You dismiss it at first, Jean has always sighed that there was just not enough hours in the day for something like that, but after some consideration you took Lisa’s advice to heart. During one of her (forced) breaks you gifted Jean one of your favorites.

Suffice to say she was in and out of the Library nearly every other day. Jean feverishly flies through books every time she finishes another draining report. And every time she reaches the back cover you are always there to greet her when she comes in for a new one.

She’s been extremely invested in all these little worlds, but has slowly been less and less invested in your relationship. You’re extremely happy that Jean’s taking the time to nourish this new side of her, but sometimes she forgets to make the time for you too.

Jean can be rather clueless sometimes. It’s not as if you’ve tried to stop her, but she’s oblivious to the hints you drop. It’s been weeks since you’ve last been on a date, and the most interaction you get from her is when you see her at the library. Even when you’re back home, it’s like she’s a ghost, only ever feeling her presence when she’s nearby. And that’s if she has the energy to not collapse immediately she she hits the sheets.

The next time Jean comes in through those library doors you make sure to slip a note in the next book you give her.

Now you’re the one who’s occupied throughout the day. Even Lisa starts to question your spark of work ethic and Jean’s prolonged visits, but it’s the only time she can hope to catch you off guard since she’s so tired after a long days work. And there’s so many close calls, you would’ve let Jean take you against the tables had it not been for Lisa’s watchful eye.

Jean can’t take it anymore. She nearly lost it during this trip. Jean forced herself to sneak in before closing because one of her many library books, one that she nearly forgot about, was about to be due the next day, and she didn’t want to suffer Lisa’s wrath. But there was no Lisa in sight, just the two of you alone in the big, empty library.

Apologies spilled out of her mouth filled with promises to manage her time and attention better and begged, begged, for your forgiveness. You accept and become trapped as she bend you against one of the library tables.

Even though you were aching for her touch this was still your workplace, and the shame of cleaning up cum from the tables would embarrass you to no end, especially if Lisa happened to see. You walk home together and she spends that time teasing and discreetly touching you.

When you get home she pulls you flush against her chest and kisses your cheek sensually. Her hand hold the back of your neck gently as she twirls around a few baby hairs. Her mouth goes to your lips and you feel her tongue run along the bottom of your lip. The second you allow entrance she picks you up and carries you bridal style to set you down on the bed.

As she lays her weigh on top of you her knee presses right up against your heat. She pulls back to take a breath, and goes back in right after. It’s a slow make-out session, one that you weren’t expecting after how Jean’s been acting’s. You guide her hand to your panties but she stops short.

“In a rush, are we? Aren’t you forgetting we have all night?”

“We nearly did it at the library, I’m sure you’re as pent up as I am”

“Maybe so,” she says as she un-do’s the buttons of your shirt, “but it’s only fair after that stunt you pulled. I finally have you alone now, I want to make the most of it.”

She leans in to whisper in your ear, “If you cum before I say you can, there’ll be serious repercussions .”

She maneuvers you both so that you rest your pussy on her face. She lets you control the pace, control the rhythm and control how deep you want to go. But that statement was her only warning. And when your mind gets fuzzy from all the stimulation you forget about the rule, that one rule.

When you get back down to the mattress Jean is tsking.

“Looks like we really do have a long night ahead of us”

Yae Miko is such a tease

One second her hands are all over you as she whispers dirty things into your ear and the next, she’s laughing at your expression and walking away. She loves how you give into her so quickly. It made her wonder how you would fair if she were to cut off her affections all at once.

She’d cling to your arm in public and and act as if you were a stranger behind closed doors. Why? Her own curiosity of course. The psychology of humans will never not be of great entertainment for her. And, it’s been so long since she’s seen you so desperate.

You’ve had enough of her testing your resolve, so you decided to do the same. As Miko slept, you wrote a neat little message in an envelope and, in the morning, instructed a shrine maiden to deliver it to Miko. And once the plan was set in stone, you remain sure that bringing out Miko’s competitive side will make her end this whole…experiment.

You avoided that room like the plague. Despite her attempts to catch you off guard you know her well enough to predict her next move. Indoors it was like a game of chess, and outside a game of cat and mouse. This competition lasted for days. Both too stubborn to give in and both too filled with more tension than they can handle.

You came back home during the evening when you knew Miko was busy with shrine duties. You heard from an acquaintance that Miko was held up in her office with paperwork and would probably not finish until later.

Deciding to relax, you recline onto the bed for a break. You breathe in the sweet scent of Sakura blossoms from Miko’s pillow and realize how lonely the past few days have been. Sure, the competition and the tricks were sometimes fun but what you really missed was seeing the want in her eyes.

You pull off your shirt and unhook your bra, gasping at how the cool air brushes your nipples. You grope your breasts while thinking of the perfect, pink-haired Yokai who’s captured your heart. You imagine what it would feel like if she were here right now. Her touch is magnetic, you dream of it as you circle your finger around your nipple. The image of what Miko would do to you fills your mind and sends heat straight to your core. The hand that isn’t occupied with your boob grazes between your legs and you whine out “Miko”.

The door bursts open. “And so the mouse has been caught. You’ve surprised me, I did not think you would last for this long.“ She removes your hand and replaces it with you fingers.

“But I knew you had to come home eventually, and it seems the story I planted worked”. Her fingers begin to pump into you at a steady rhythm. “Turn around for me”

When you flip onto your stomach she slightly hovers over you, running her hands along your backside, admiring your beauty. “It’s been so long hasn’t it? Truth be told, I believe the wait makes it worth the while”. Her fingers return to your cunt and resume their thrusts, only much faster this time.

He fingers hit harder and deeper into you, sliding across all the right places. But before letting you finish she slows down her movements to an almost lazy pace. She simply laughs at your confusion, “You have all night to cum, why rush it?”

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incognit0slut · 11 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (7)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder case. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong.

Part Summary: She finds herself in a compromising position.

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: this is my first time writing suspense and crime-mystery, so bear with me if you find any inaccuracy

IF THERE WAS ONE THING SPENCER WAS SURE OF, IT WAS BEING SLEEP DEPRIVED. Fatigue, like an invisible shroud, draped itself around his shoulders, draining all of his energy while his mind stumbled through a labyrinth of exhaustion.

He stifled a yawn, his mind trying to focus on the situation at hand and not the lack amount of sleep he was having. When was the last time he actually slept on his bed? When was the last time he went through his days without constantly refilling his cup with too much caffeine? The muscles around his eyes were starting to twitch with restless energy, a sign of a restless mind faltered under the weight of weariness.

Yet amidst it all, a strange resilience emerged within him. He still managed to focus his blurred vision, scanning his eyes around the room as he pushed away any fatigue and the desire to be somewhere else.

His gaze finally ceased on Garcia, engrossed in her own digital world, a sleek laptop perched on the round table before her. She leaned in, her eyes fixed on the vibrant screen which illuminated her face with a soft, cool glow. "Alright, so, I did more digging onto our recent victim, and let me tell you this, Jamison Lynch wasn't exactly the boss of the year."

Jennifer Jareau—who most of them regarded as JJ—looked up from the document in her hand, sitting across from Garcia. "What do you mean?"

"Jamison Lynch was somebody you wouldn't want as a boss. There were a lot of complaints coming from his subordinates—which surprisingly, most came from female workers."

Spencer's eyes scanned the large board in front of him adorned with a labyrinth of interconnected information. Photographs of the two crime scenes were pinned up, highlighting key details, while strings of marks and drawings crossed the board. "He was very different from the first victim."

"Exactly. Kevin Marshall was the epitome of boss of the year, and everybody just loved the guy, which was why no one could guess how something terrible could happen to him."

"There's a chance what happened to him isn't related to his job," JJ offered.

"Maybe not," Garcia muttered, throwing Spencer a curious look. "But the question is still unanswered, how are the two victims linked to one another?"

"The Unsub's memo is clearly done to punish them," Spencer explained, his attention started to gather all the information gripped onto his brain. "The verse written on Jamison Lynch's body was Romans 6:23, For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in our Lord."

JJ leaned over the desk with a pointed stare. "One thing for sure, the Unsub has a strong religious background."

Spencer nodded. "All the verse they used highlights the notion that sin carries consequences, and death is described as the 'wage' or payment for those transgressions. In his mind, they may interpret these verses as a justification for his vigilante actions, believing that he's carrying out divine punishment on behalf of God."

"A religious upbringing," JJ suggested. "The Unsub could have grown up in a deeply religious environment, where strict interpretations of scripture might be emphasized."

"Most likely a distorted belief system." Spencer's hands were all over the place as he continued with his elucidation. "Over time, the Unsub's religious beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading him to believe that he possesses a unique calling to carry out punishment on behalf of a higher power."

He then studied the picture of the first crime scene, his eyes raking over the lifeless body covered in a pool of blood. "Kevin Marshall might seem like the golden citizen, but he must be involved in something that could be illegal..." He suddenly looked over to Garcia. "Did Jamison Lynch start his career as a journalist?"

Her fingers danced across the keyboard. "Yes, he published a lot of his work since 2004."

"Search any articles he wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, or maybe the company he worked for. "

"Or legal cases that he was assigned with," JJ added.

"That could be a start, although it might take a while because sleuthing without much lead is difficult." Garcia peered at the two of them by the rim of her eccentric, colorful glasses. "But do not fret, I am known to be the best."

Footsteps suddenly emerged into the room as Aaron Hotchner glanced around the three of them. "Garcia," he mentioned, standing behind her. "Did you find any old cases that might be involved in the victims?"

"Ah, yes, the system was searching through the database based on your queries this morning and it took me a while before—" A sudden ping echoed from her device. “Well, that was perfect timing."

Her fingers clicked across the keyboard as her eyes scanned the dimly lit screen. Everyone in the room stood frozen in their tracks, their faces etched with a curious mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Garcia's eyes widened, revealing the turmoil that echoed the collective sentiment of the room. "Whoa."

JJ stood up and circled her way around the table, standing close to her. "What is it?"

"I started looking through the database for any similar crimes in surrounding areas this morning." Her attention shifted between the other three people in the room. "There have been enucleations in other cases, but none recently, and none close by. No similar murder case was shown, but suicide on the other hand..."

"Harvey Webb," JJ read, looking at the photo of the deceased man. "Suicidal death?"

"Thirty-nine-year-old landlord took a tumble off a sixth-floor balcony two years ago, exactly on the apartment complex he rented out."

"Why are we looking at a suicidal case?"

"That's the thing, the local authorities ruled out that he might've not jumped on his own accord, although his wife at that time determined that he had been having suicidal thoughts for a long time and decided to close the case." Garcia did more tapping on her keyboard and somehow pictures of the crime scene were plastered across the screen in front of the room. "Harvey went through depression and a lot of suicidal attempts, there were always cuts along his arm except—"

"There was a writing on his body?" Hotch guessed.

Garcia nodded as she clicked on a clearer picture of the victim's arm. "His autopsy came in that while there were definite signs of attempt self-hurt, this was written between the cuts."

"Galatians 6:7," Spencer read, his eyes fixated on the screen as he recited, "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

"Definitely a vigilante on the loose," JJ remarked.

Spencer hummed a positive response and walked over to the board, a marker in his hand as he wrote down the verse. "This verse underscores the concept of reaping the consequences of one's actions, which could further justify the Unsub's belief that his victims deserve punishment for his perceived sins or mistakes."

Hotch studied the pictures of the recent victims and the one shown on the screen. "The way the words are carved across the skin is definitely done by the same person," he noted.

JJ looked between the three pictures before nodding. "I agree." She then glanced up at her co-workers. "So why the different MO? Something connects these three victims, and yet this one"—she pointed to the photo of Harvey Webb—"died in a completely different manner. He either jumped or was pushed. We don't even know if it was a murder, just that he was branded the same as the other two victims."

"The timeline doesn't add up," Spencer claimed, his brows furrowed deeper. "There's too much of a gap between the first victim and the second victim, we're looking at two different stressors that triggered the Unsub."

Hotch stood beside him, crossing his arms as he studied the evidence they had collected these past few days. "If this was his first victim and the two men were his second and third, it's possible he's advancing, that his fantasy is developing."

Spencer looked back at the three pictures. What connected these three dead people, two murdered in violent, heinous ways, the third a potential suicide victim? What wrongdoings might they possibly sin? And now he couldn't help but feel the weight of Hotch's words and how revolting one could act in this series of crimes, proclaiming them as fantasies, his skill, and determination more distinguished than ever before.

"If that's the case..." he pointed out, a certain tension hanging in the air. "He's only getting started."

Y/n must be mad—utterly, completely out of her mind.

She always considered herself a very sensible person characterized by an ability to think critically, or make rational decisions on logical reasoning. But her thoughts, once orderly and coherent, twisted into bewildering shapes because here she was, perched right in front of an apartment door she once closed behind and never looked back.

Why did she think it was a good idea to come here uninvited at this time of hour? How did she end up being here when she was lying in her bed a few hours ago?

She recalled turning around in her sleep, or perhaps, her attempt to rest her eyes, because she found herself staring into the dark with an unsettling feeling in her gut. Maybe all the turmoil of emotions piled up in her chest had her going into a panic frenzy, relentlessly moving in her bed when she should've been fast asleep.

Somehow amidst dwelling on her anxiety, she was suddenly on her feet, putting on a jacket before calling a cab. Her mind was too tangled to be driving on her own, and when the driver asked her where she was heading, she recited the area she was familiar with. Did she remember the building she wanted to go to? Yes. Did she know the exact address? Apparently not.

Although it was easy to spot the building. The old but clean apartment was recognizable, the sturdy wooden door, adorned with vintage brass fixtures, welcomed her after she tipped the driver her fair. The cool air hit her face, her hair flying around her shoulders as she spotted a residence walking out of the building. She quickly slipped in, seeking a very much-needed warmth, yet now she was starting to question her common sense.

But it was too late to turn back because her hand was already curling into a fist as she knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times. When there was no answer, she wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed. She knocked once again, and when she was met with silence, she decided it was a sign that she was indeed making the wrong decision.

So she exhaled a breath she wasn't even aware of holding, turned around, and completely froze when she was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes. There he was, almost a week since the last time she saw him, standing on the last step of stairs.

Time seemed to stand still. Her heart skipped a beat, his presence exuded a captivating charm. His chiseled features were accentuated by a sculpted jawline, leading up to a pair of intense, deep-set eyes that seemed to hold a hefty amount of fatigue. Dark circles cast shadows beneath his eyes, hinting at nights spent wrestling with restless thoughts.

He was dressed in a rumpled shirt and loosely fitted trousers, his attire mirrored the fatigue he wore upon his face. The fabric seemed to hang upon his frame, lacking the crispness that usually accompanied his wardrobe. But despite his weariness, there was an undeniable pull emanating from his presence. It should be illegal how handsome he still looked even when he looked like he needed some rest.

Spencer took a tentative step closer, looking reminiscent of a puppy with his eyebrows pinched at each beginning in a way that can only mimic either confusion or concentration. "Y/n?"

"Hi," she awkwardly greeted, suddenly feeling out of place.

"What brings you here?"

"I..." she trailed off, her brows furrowed as she tried to find a reasonable answer. But somehow she found herself telling him the truth. "I honestly don't know."

His eyes fixed upon her, silently studying her figure. A cascade of lustrous hair framed her face, falling gracefully upon her shoulders.

"Do you want to come in?"

"I don't want to impose on you—" she stepped aside, letting him unlock his door. "Or disturb your much-needed rest."

A ghost of a smile curled on the corner of his lips as he fished out his keys. "I look terrible, don't I?"

"I wouldn't say terrible, just... you look very tired."

"I haven't had proper sleep in days." With a steady hand, he inserted the key into the lock before a satisfying click echoed in the air. With a gentle push, the door swung open, and he gestured to her with a nod.

She looked between him and his apartment. "Are you sure?"

"Come in," he offered. He walked inside his home and pulled the door ajar. "Please."

She studied him for a while before nodding. The floor creaked as she stepped into his household, and as the door swung shut behind her, she scanned the room that seemed familiar yet foreign at the same time. A sense of warmth enveloped her despite the predominantly dark colors that adorned the space. Soft, ambient lighting emanated from placed lamps, casting a gentle glow upon the room.

She walked past him and noticed the chessboard splayed across the coffee table. "I didn't know you play chess." She sat down on his couch. "Looks like you were in the middle of a game… was someone else here?"

He wasn't sure whether he heard a note of jealousy in her voice, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Actually, I was in a game with myself," he answered sheepishly, shrugging off his suit jacket before placing it over his couch. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, it's alright." She leaned forward, her gaze fixed upon the chessboard. Her eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the board with a keen interest before moving a chess piece, placed with precision and purpose.

Genuine surprise crossed his face as he settled beside her. "You know how to play chess?"

"A little. I used to play with my father growing up."

"You don't play with him anymore?"

She shook her head. "He passed away when I was young. Both of my parents did."

"I'm sorry," he gently spoke. He leaned back and turned his body toward her. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, just me."

"I'm an only child too." Then he assessed her carefully while her eyes wandered beyond her striking features, a subtle tension betrayed a deeper complexity lurking beneath the surface. "Now are you going to tell me why you're here?"

He noticed the subtle language of her body where uncertainty weaved on her face. It was in the way she looked between him and her hands, a balance between wonder and reservation that hinted at the lingering doubt within. Then she took a deep breath, her brows furrowed as her voice filled in the silence.

"Does it make me a bad person that I didn't cry after everything that happened?"

He frowned, taken aback by the sudden question. "What do you mean?"

"There was a memorial service for Jamison a few days ago, and while everyone mourned, I just... stood there." She looked down at her hands. "What happened to him was very unfortunate, it just happened that, apparently, I have no emotions.”

His head fell back onto the couch as he watched her. "It doesn't make you a bad person. Grief is a deeply personal and individual experience, and people respond to loss in different ways. Crying is just one expression of grief, but it isn't the only definitive indicator of how much someone cared for or was impacted by the loss of a person, especially given how you saw what had happened."

"But it makes me feel kind of heartless." She glanced back at him. "I mean, he wasn't exactly the greatest boss, and I should've felt a certain kind of sadness, but I... I don't know how I feel, to be honest."

"Y/n," he gently called, his expression softening. "It's important to remember that everyone grieves in their own way. What matters most is that you find healthy ways to navigate and process your emotions surrounding the loss, whether it involves crying or not."

She hummed in response. "I guess you do have a point."

"I do, and I'm right most of the time." Spencer smiled when she rolled her eyes and a comfortable silence settled between them. "Now tell me the truth."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What truth?"

"You obviously have a lot on your mind right now and I'm trying to wrap my head around why you chose to be here."

"Do I need to have a reason?"

As his gaze lingered, he found himself drawn to her eyes—a delicate blend of curiosity and trepidation. They shimmered with a gentle vulnerability, revealing the depths of her longing to be seen and understood.

"I would like to know your reason."

She weighed her words carefully. "I couldn't sleep,” she decided to say. “My mind was constantly turning its gear, then it got too overwhelming?” She shook her head. “I-I guess I needed the comfort..."

As she tried to find her voice, her words become entangled in the turmoil of her emotions. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage. The words spilled forth, unfiltered and vulnerable, resonating with a sincerity that echoed through the room.

"And somehow you were the first person that came to mind."

Spencer felt an unfamiliar intensity washing over him—a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty that tugged at his heartstrings. And then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the desire to embrace her consumed him, both thrilling and terrifying. It was such a baffling thought because he found hugs to be overwhelmingly intimate for his liking, yet there was this urge to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her body against his.

The weight of uncertainty pressed upon him, urging caution and restraint. But logic lost its battle with instinct, and caution lost its wrestle with impulsive longing as he found himself asking, "Can I give you a hug?"

Her body tensed, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. But as he kept staring at her, she realized that he was being serious. And she found herself nodding, yearning for the warmth radiating from his body.

He carefully drew closer and a magnetic force guided her movements, gently pushing her into his arms. Nervous excitement coursed through her veins, infusing a sense of vulnerability.

Bodies entwined, they breathe in unison, inhaling the essence of closeness as senses unfold—the warmth of skin against skin, the familiar scent that filled the air, the weight of the world momentarily faded away as they surrendered to the pure simplicity of human touch.

His head was spinning with longing and somehow he managed to pull her body gently onto his lap. She silently accepted his tug, placing her legs on either side of his thighs as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Amidst her relishing the gentle press of his body against hers, she couldn't help but find amusement in this new position.

He felt the subtle shake of her shoulder as a burst of soft laughter escaped her mouth. He suddenly tensed. "Is there something funny?"

The confusion etched in his voice had her pulling away, a small smile lingering on her face. "Yes," she answered. "It's amusing how you like having me on your lap so much.”

A slight warmth spread along his face as he became aware of her weight settling on top of him. "I didn’t notice."

She wasn't sure whether it was the glimmer in his eyes, the bashful smile on his lips, or the way he didn't pull his gaze away from her, but before it could register in her mind, she drew herself closer to him. The sudden shift of her movement caused a friction underneath her, and it was at that moment she realized how compromising of a position they were in.

Her fingers brushed against his skin, and an electric current surged through her veins, awakening a longing she had not anticipated. Her eyes flickered with a newfound intensity—a hunger that shimmered in the depths of her gaze as she could only focus on the pulse settling between her thighs.

As her longing deepened, she became acutely aware of his proximity. The scent of him enveloped her, intoxicating her senses, and her mind was consumed by allowing herself to surrender in this newfound need.

So she slowly rolled her hips, feeling his body beneath her, and suppressed a moan when she felt the outline of his bulge stroking against her core. Her breath hitched, betraying the innocent intentions that had initially brought them together.

She felt him tense from the friction and his heart thudding hard against his ribcage, her heart beating to the same rhythm. "Stop doing that," he suddenly said, eyes darkening as he stared at her, voice deep and raspy.

"Why?" She whispered.

A whirlwind of emotions churned within him. His heart ached to offer solace, yet primal longing tugged at his core, igniting an undeniable urge to keep her closer, to indulge in the sudden pull of desire.

"Because if you don't," he grunted, his hand sliding up her neck, burying it in her thick hair as he tilted her face. He pulled her closer, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. The heat of her presence lingered on his fingertips, tempting him to pull her into an embrace that transcends mere comfort. "I won't be able to stop myself."

His gaze then traced the contours of her form. The subtle curve of a hip, the graceful arch of a back, the gentle swell of a chest—all become objects of fascination. He watched as her tongue wiped along her bottom lip while she slid her hands across his shoulders, stopping right on his chest, hovering above his heart.

"Then don't," she softly pleaded, moving her hips once again, igniting a moan deep within his chest. “I don't want you to stop."

It was the only push he needed as he closed the distance between them, finally crushing his lips to hers.

>> NEXT PART

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