#that final threshold right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hongjoongscafe · 4 months

Text

Peach.

One-Shot.

Pairing: professor!jungkookxcamgirl!reader.

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, forbidden au, uni au.

Summary: where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

Word count: 15.4k+

Warnings: age gap (oc: 21, JK: 30), masturbation… lots of masturbation, sort of online bullying(?), kind of public masturbation, toys, name-calling, sir/daddy, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected sex (Namjoon will bonk your head if you don't use a contraceptive), spanking, spitting kink, cum eating, choking, overstimulation, a little bit of degradation, pussy spanking. (and that anime-ish picture has nothing to do with the fiction. Imagine the characters however you want!)

Masterpost

“Oh fuck!” Jungkook's voice trembled as he palmed himself through his sweatpants. The thin shining layer of sweat made his face look sexier. His teeth were gritting and his eyes could barely focus on anything but the screen.

He had sworn to make himself wait until he could not wait anymore. He wanted to tease himself until he felt like bursting through his high. He wanted the pain of pleasure to run through his muscles and explode when it was too much to fill his body.

His ears were red from arousal and his veins were popping from lust.

He waited for a whole day to end just to tune into his favourite girl's livestream and tease himself as long as she teased herself.

Through his screen, he admired how her legs were wide open with a camera between them showing her gushing core. The livestream only started about five minutes ago. And he was already so ready to burst in his pants.

He was packing (giddily) to go back home after his day was over at the university to watch her, he was smiling widely. However, his smile dropped when he saw Mr Jameson (the director of the university) standing on the threshold of his office room.

“Mr Jeon, kindly visit conference hall 2 for a staff meeting in ten minutes.”

His lips frowned but nodded and sighed thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to make home soon enough to watch his MissPeach.

The meeting went longer as expected. It was nothing but about exchange students. Jungkook had ten exchange students in total and about three in each lecture he was assigned.

He made it home just in time. While he was juggling the key in the keyhole, he opened the stream and it was on its final countdown till the stream started. He sighed with relief and finally went inside and jumped on his bed, not bothering to turn on his lights. The burnt yellow guiding lights in the hallway and in his room were enough for him which turned on automatically when the sun kissed the ocean through his window and the night began to fall.

“Today, I thought I must not make you all wait,” Miss Peach's soft voice finally speaks. “So I’m going to skip teasing and just jump right into it,” she giggled when the chat went crazy with thank yous and asking for more or some who loved to get teased were upset but so ready to see.

Jungkook’s cock twitched after hearing her seductive yet innocent voice. She never showed her face but he knew she was smiling.

“I’m tired today, so I will use my sex machine instead. I hope it is alright,” she hummed.

Jungkook quickly tapped his screen with a frown of worry.

Bigdaddyj: Baby, it's alright. Relax and just let go, yeah? Don't worry<3 If someone has any problem, Daddy will handle —$200

The ping on Peach's side made her look at the chat. “Thank you, Daddy,” she chuckled. “You are always so generous.”

Jungkook could see her pussy throbbing as she said daddy. He bit his lip and saw a fake cock attached to a machine. Peach rubbed the lube all over it and aligned it with her pussy. She started it at a slow speed.

“Oh,” she gasped as it slowly started to push in. “This feels so good.”

He whimpered imagining his cock pushing into her pussy. Lowered his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock and squeezed the head, trying to feel how it would feel if he were that fake cock. His cock would look prettier and feel better than that thing. But at the same time, he wanted to suck that toy and lick all of her sweet juices, too.

“You fill me up so good,” she rasped. “Please fuck me,” Peach panted as she raised the power and the thrusts got faster and wetter.

“Fuck,” he couldn't control and gave in. His fist picked up the pace of the toy and looked at her pretty pussy swallowing the toy. Her sweet moans and whimpers only fueled his desire.

Not much later, he came all over himself, ruining his white shirt and black pants. But it was worth it.

“That was quick,” she giggled as she panted. Her pussy was red and swollen just how he loved it. “I hope you all came as well… tomorrow I was wondering if we could do qna type of thing? Not the usual stream but just something. I kinda wanna talk. I don't get to do that enough so…”

Jungkook was quick to reply.

Bigdaddyj: aw Peaches I would love to talk to you, baby girl. It will be fun. ^^ –$300

Reading the chat he sent, she hummed cosily. “You think so, daddy? I'm glad. I'll be seeing you all tomorrow then.”

With that, the stream ended and Jungkook slumped against the headrest.

Jungkook used to share a staff flat on campus with two other professors. It was going fine until he found MissPeach. Watching her was becoming a huge task with the other two men in that small flat. It was always obvious whenever he would jerk off.

On many occasions, his roommates would catch him after looking at his flushed face after one of his “sessions”. They said that his face could never hide the fact that he just jerked.

He started to wear makeup but it was frustrating and ended up moving out and eventually purchasing his own apartment off campus. It was rather convenient.

His obsession, however, grew ridiculously embarrassing. And having his own apartment helped him live it. Whenever MissPeach would go live, he would watch without caring about someone disturbing or making fun of him.

Sometimes he felt utterly embarrassed whenever he sat in front of his gigantic TV in his living room with a football game, his one hand holding his mobile with MissPeach's livestream on it and the other hand wrapped around his aching cock. He couldn't miss either.

It all worked out for him.

…

The next morning, Jungkook walked into his lecture hall dressed in a black shirt and black pants, his feet clad in the infamous black boots that made him look professional at the same time a character out of a dark romance book.

“Good morning, class. I hope you all had a long night. I have a job for you all,” he cleared his throat. “I'll be handing you guys a worksheet. You have this whole lecture which is sixty minutes. Take help from your sources and complete it. It's been one month and four more to go. So I want you all to revise what we did this month. I think there is no better way than this. What do we say? Do we agree?” he asked with his bubbly smile that he knew no one could resist.

The students agreed. Soon enough, everyone had two sets of five-page-long worksheets on their desks. In this specific batch, he taught biology. But he had chemistry as well.

You loved biology. And even more now because Jungkook was your professor. You were an exchange student and joined this semester.

On your first day, when he walked into the class, you were positive that he was one of the students but when he stood behind the teacher's desk and started his lecture, your jaw was barely holding up. He looked ripped and broad. The buttons on his shirt were fighting against the monstrosity of his chest. You swore you saw his nipples poke through his shirt at some point.

Even now, when you are sitting in your seat you can't help but look up and steal some glances towards him. He was sitting on his chair, reading something on his laptop with his glasses perched up.

You felt your pussy tingling. Since the first day, you have been masturbating to him. But your pussy just wanted his finger, mouth, and cock.

He never noticed you. You preferred to stay at the corner at the back and just exist. Socializing was not your forte. You had one too many insecurities to even say hi to someone. Even when some of the girls approached you for you to join them around, you always politely declined.

And the rest were not as nice. The thing was that you were a scholarship student at a private university. You barely afford to live. And the others barely kept money in their banks but still had too much money. They were everything you could never be and sometimes they took it as an advantage.

So you preferred to stay away and not get involved with anyone.

You were focusing on your worksheet when Jungkook’s chair screeched against the floor, looking up, you saw him slowly walking around and inspecting if someone needed help. So far, it was not bad. He had taught everything perfectly.

You focused back on your work. You could hear his footsteps. Here and there, the girls asked him some silly questions. You wanted to ask, too. But your confidence was a bit above -200.

So no, you weren't going to ask.

Soon enough, the musky scent invaded your senses as Jungkook was closer to you. He stood by you and looked at your work. You hid your hands under the desk to hide the trembling. It was the first time that you saw him up close. He never took a round, most probably because it was never needed. On the other hand, there weren't any emergencies or something that would make you knock on his office door.

Your eyes met with his as he asked “Miss Park, do you need any help?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice.

“As expected,” he smiled. He fucking smiled at you. You bit back a silly smile, cleared your throat and looked down.

He moved along and you finally took a breath. He is rather enchanting and you just couldn't rebel.

How could you? That big Professor was a god himself.

“After you are done, you can hand your sheets to me and leave,” he said and took his seat.

You had completed the worksheet about twenty minutes earlier but there was no way you were going to get up and attract any attention. So you started to go through Chemistry.

Chemistry was not your best subject but it meant another hour in Jungkook’s class.

Your concentration enveloped you and made you lose the passage of time. You slightly flinched as Jungkook called your name.

“Miss Park, it has been ten minutes since the lecture got over. You can take the worksheet home if you want and submit it tomorrow if you are finding it hard. Or I can help if you want,” Jungkook offered.

You looked around the empty class and back at your professor. “Ah,” you nervously chuckled and started collecting your stuff. “It is all done,” you said in a small voice and finally gathered everything.

You walked towards him and handed him the sheets. Awkwardly, you bowed and stepped away. However, Jungkook stopped you.

“Miss Park, please write your name and ID number over here, please,” he smiled… again.

You could feel your ears heating up with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s alright!” as you were writing your name and ID number on your sheets, Jungkook took notice of your hands. They looked familiar. Way too familiar.

The images of his MissPeach flashed in front of his eyes. That glistening, pink pussy. His cock twitched in his pants. He shook his head to get the images out. “There are many similar hands, JK!” He scolded himself.

“How are you keeping up, here?” Jungkook asked to distract himself.

You slid the now-named sheets back to him. “Um, it's nice here.”

Jungkook’s eyes twitched at the familiarity of your voice as well. “That’s good. If you ever have any problem, you can come to me. We have two classes so feel free to reach out. You are already so far away from your home so don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

You looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” with that, you finally left with a racing heart and wet panties.

Jungkook looked at the closed door. “Ah, I should stop watching her. She is messing up my brain. Y/n can't be her. She is too innocent for that… right?”

But who was he kidding, he was obsessed with MissPeach.

You felt embarrassed when you walked out. His mere smile and thick voice made your pussy clench around nothing and your panties wet. You could feel the wetness on your thighs.

He had an effect on you more than your body could handle without making you feel like his whore.

But you knew he would never look at you the way you wanted him to. To begin with, you were his student and if there was any chance that he would get involved with one, that certainly wouldn't be you.

There were many painfully beautiful girls around you who had maintained themselves like Queens. They had proper skin care, a pretty makeup routine before they came to university and a relaxing night routine. Whereas you, you splashed your face with water and soap and slapped basic cheap face cream on your face.

Most of your money from your “job” was sent to your parents and for your apartment rent. And not to mention, that where you came for an exchange programme, even farting costs money.

Sighing, you walked through the crowd of students and looked around. Everyone was busy with their stuff. In the canteen, groups of friends were sitting and enjoying the food. You brought your own meal but today you were running late and packed nothing. So you walked towards the cheapest of the options, a vending machine.

You bought some rice balls and a can of Sprite. Quickly, you left the canteen and sat on the empty staircase which rarely anyone visited which led to the abandoned old green room.

It didn't take time for you to finish your food. The thought of your hot, ripped professor was still fogging up your mind and probably the sane side of your brain, too. And the more it did, the more your panties became wet.

The image of his beautiful long fingers teased you. You wondered how his tattooed fingers would look while playing with your pussy. Oh, you just wanted just that.

His lip ring was the end of you. You wanted to sit on his face and feel the piercing over your pussy. You always paid attention to when he played with his lip ring with his tongue and just wanted to know how it would feel teasing your clit.

You couldn't take it anymore so you opened the secret pocket of your bad and took out a tiny bullet vibrator that you carried after realizing that Mr Jeon was a sexy man that you just wanted fuck.

Looking around the empty staircase and hallway above, you opened the button of your pants and slipped your hand inside your panties. You positioned the toy over your clit and buttoned up your pants back on.

From your mobile, you turned it on. The low vibrations of the toy shivered you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the railing, slowly turning up the power.

It was a perfect gift from one of your viewers who watched almost every stream, Bigdaddyj. You loved this toy the most. It didn't make any noises and was easy to carry around in your bag… or inside your panties.

Soon the vibrations got stronger, leaving your mouth wide open. Your hips thrust in the air and your legs trembled.

A strangled moan forced out so you slapped your hand over your mouth to make no noises. You imagined Jungkook between your legs fingering your hole and sucking on your clit. Thinking of him humming and moaning on your pussy sent you to the edge.

Not so long after, your body seized up and climaxed.

You whimpered at the sensitivity and turned off the toy. It was hard to bring your breath to normal but you somehow managed and stood up yet again questioning your existence.

…

“So I see many of you tuned into this live… I was not expecting this,” you giggled looking at the viewer bar. There were about one thousand viewers. They could only see your boobs clad in a black satin tank top. “Shall we start with the QnA?”

Jungkook was lounging on his sofa with a glass of whiskey. He looked at MissPeach’s boobs. He just wanted to squeeze them and pamper them with kisses and just… keep on worshipping her.

Bigdaddyj: You look fabulous, pretty. How was your day?

You looked at the chat, it wasn't as crazy as when you bare your boobs and pussy. Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of your regular who insisted you call him daddy. “Thank you, Daddy! I'm fine, just a bit tired. It was a long day,” you hummed.

Bigdaddyj: Aw, baby. You should rest. Drink something warm and sleep.”

You smiled at his chat. Playing with the top of your tank top, you replied, “I will. But I have some other things to do and study for a bit.”

Jungkook watched MissPeach play with the top. He couldn't help but pay close attention to the hands. They were similar, he was sure of that. However, he shook his head and paid attention to MissPeach’s chat.

Cummingdick: show face

Natehell: Do you meet in private?

She answered that question, “No, I don't meet in private.”

Then Jungkook asked the question that had been bugging him all-day.

Bigdaddyj: Baby, yesterday you said that you don't get to talk a lot. What is that? Do your friends don't listen to you?

You looked at the question. Your smile faded, lucky you never showed your face. What were you supposed to answer? But it was Daddy who asked it so you had to answer.

“Well, I'm not a very social person. Plus I moved to a different country recently. So I don't have friends here. I prefer staying by myself anyway. It works for me!” you tried to be enthusiastic.

Patrick: show tits, bitch

Fuckboi2000: it's always the quiet ones who whore around

Lovethatpus: I thought you had fucked the whole campus

Jungkook didn't feel good. He heard that strained voice and could tell it was deeper than that. He felt rage reading mindless chat, on top of that. He always saw that innocence in her. Even though she was a camgirl, her demeanour reflected the innocence that he wanted to protect.

Bigdaddyj: it's alright, baby. Try to get along slowly. I'm sure you will make a good friend. Don't be alone, my darling.

The chat from Bigdaddyj brought a smile to your face. Where everyone was requesting you to remove your top and spread your legs, he was making sure you felt heard.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Daddy.”

The chat progressively got disappointing and soon turned into a mess. The viewers dropped down when you didn't remove any clothes.

There weren't many questions, in fact, nobody asked a proper question except Bigdaddyj.

Cummingdick: this sucks

Fuckboi2000: Man, you wasted my time, you fucking stupid cunt.

Ridemycock: never turn up if you not gonna show that pussy

Hideme: You're not as interesting as your pussy

Lovethatpus: No wonder why you don't have friends, bitch. Other than your pussy and tits, you are fucking boring

Boobieman: I would just use you and throw you. Boring ass bitch

You sighed. Maybe you shouldn't have done this. What did you even expect? Talking on a porn website? You shook your head and just looked at the chat, not answering any questions.

Soon, there was only one viewer left. And you were certain who he was.

“Daddy?” you called in a low, soft voice.

Jungkook's eyes widened when MissPeach called him. He wasn't expecting her to know that he was still tuned in. Half of him was burning with rage because of those stupid assholes who had to degrade you instead of going somewhere else.

He quickly typed.

Bigdaddyj: yes, baby?

“Do you wanna know a secret?” she hummed.

Bigdaddyj: yes, of course, baby. What is it?

You didn't say something for a few seconds and then stood up. Taking a tissue next to you, you poured some micellar water on it. “Look here, okay?” you said and took a deep breath.

Jungkook typed a yes and looked where she had lowered her pyjama shorts, brought the tissue and pressed for a few. It was above her hip bone on the left side.

Slowly, the tissue swapped and showed a tiny coloured tattoo. It was a cute little pastel pink peach.

Jungkook's mouth parted and looked at the tattoo. He felt his cock twitch in his sweats.

“I got this when I turned nineteen. But I always hid it. It's tiny but I always feel like not wanting to show this to anyone. But I only put on concealer whenever I come live or when I wear cropped tops or something like that,” MissPeach said.

Again, Jungkook’s fingers tapped across the keyboard.

Bigdaddyj: That has to be the most adorable tattoo I've ever seen, baby. I wanna kiss it.

A soft giggle left her. “You can kiss it, Daddy.”

Jungkook smiled.

Bigdaddyj: Tell me, pretty. What other secrets are you hiding?

She sat down again. Her delicate fingers tapped the tabletop. “There are some secrets that I have that no one knows. Will you keep them as secrets if I tell you them?”

Jungkook didn't need to think at all.

Bigdaddyj: Of course, baby. I'll keep them for you.

At this point, Jungkook just wanted her to talk about things that she couldn't talk about or didn't have a friend to talk to. He loved this. Just talking and existing at the same time.

He knew he was fucked. How could he get attached to a faceless person like this?

“I used one of your toys today…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “At university at lunchtime.”

Jungkook’s cock hardened right away. She used his toy at her university.

“And you know what's worse? I've been taking it every day with me and using it often at the university. I keep it in my secret pocket in the bag. I always feel dirty using it,” she confessed.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed.

Bigdaddyj: You always feel that horny, baby? What do you think about when you use it?

She paused for a moment, “will you be angry if I tell you the truth?”

He frowned. “So not me,” he mumbled. “Why would she? She has never seen me before.”

Bigdaddyj: Not at all, pretty.

“Hm… I always think about my professor,” she revealed.

“Fuck me,” Jungkook moaned. Even though it wasn't him, the thought of her masturbating to a professor made his cock harder.

Bigdaddyj: You are one nasty little girl, baby.

“I can't help it, Daddy. I really can't.”

…

Your morning class was supposed to be Chemistry but Jungkook couldn't show up for the lecture. Instead, he sent the worksheet to the students through an adjusted professor.

The instructions were similar to what they were for biology. However, this was not easy for you.

It took ten extra brain cells to solve one damn equation. There was no way you were going to get this worksheet done in time. You scolded yourself in your mind for taking this ungodly subject just to spend one more hour with Jungkook who truly never noticed you.

Later in the day, it was your Biology lecture. And to your luck, Jungkook was present in this class and had brought back the worksheets with him.

“You all did an excellent job with this worksheet,” he said as he stood up and smiled at all. Oh, that fucking killer smile that you wanted to eat up. “However, there was one person who did an exceptionally great job!”

His eyes roamed around and stopped at you. “Miss Park,” he called, making your breath stop. “Not a single mistake. Everything was written so beautifully and accurately. I'm impressed by your work. That one diagram was drawn with perfection even in a limited time. And all those diagram with other processes were great addition. One could tell you know what you are doing. Keep working like this,” he gave you a toothy smile and thumbs up.

Your cheeks turned into rosy red. Not trusting your voice, you quickly bowed to him from your seat and gave him an awkward smile.

The lecture passed by with him starting a new chapter and passing on the introduction of sub-topics to make everything easier when studied in detail— one of his tricks for learning that was your favourite.

As the lecture ended, everybody started to leave and you were packing up as well. It was only 2:00 PM and you were planning to go back to your apartment.

“Miss Park,” Jungkook called your attention. “Do you have time for a moment? I've something to discuss.”

You nodded.

Soon, you found yourself sitting in front of your professor. The same one who made you masturbate in public and that you confessed to a stranger who watched your stream regularly.

“Miss Park, you did an outstanding job in Biology. I'm impressed, actually. When I was handed your performance chart from your university, I knew I didn't need to be worried about you. No one gets into this university without any reason. It's harder. You either need too much brain or too much money,” he said. “I was actually quite eager to go through your Chemistry worksheet.”

You dug your nails into your palm, knowing well that you had disappointed him.

“I can see that Chemistry is difficult for you. Or if I rephrase it, you are thinking that it is difficult for you,” he pulled out the worksheet. “You haven't answered all the questions and there are some mistakes. From the look of it, it seems you have a problem with your basics. I'm pretty sure it will be all right once the lab starts but I think it would be much helpful if you understand things in theory better.”

You fumbled with your fingers and avoided his eyes. Your body was tense and he could see right through it.

Jungkook removed his glasses, “Miss Park, May I ask why you opted for this subject? I see you only had Biology before. Why the sudden addition of Chemistry?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke up. “I'm sorry, Mr Jeon. I didn't mean to disappoint you in any way… I just took chemistry for extra credits.”

You lied. Oh, you fucking lied to your professor and you wanted to run away. Lying to him hurts you more than it should have.

Jungkook chuckled, “I’m not disappointed in you, Miss Park. I think with a little extra attention, you will be able to perform just as well as you do in Biology.”

You looked into his twinkling eyes. “I-I’m not sure if I can be that good in Chemistry. It's- it’s stupid, I should probably get it crossed. I think I still have time for that. Yeah, that, I'll do that,” the panic settled in.

Jungkook looked at you and found you a fragile little thing. He had never paid much attention to you knowing you were all good in your studies.

But right now, he wished he did.

You were a simple girl with a straightforward goal. He never saw you messing around or heard any gossip about you other than that you do not get mixed up well with others. Considering the fact that you had just moved out and still settling in, it was normal for not mixing up. It takes time.

“Miss Park,” Jungkook leaned in and patted your shoulder. “You don't need to panic. How about we try solving this problem for a couple of weeks and then see if you get any better, hm?

You sat frozen in your seat and just took in the feeling of his hand on your shoulder trying to calm you down. “What if I don't?”

Jungkook smiled, retrieving his hand and making you want more. “Then you can get it cancelled from your major.”

You nervously asked, “When can we start?”

“If you don't have any other class for the day, we can start right now! Do you have any classes?” you shook your head. “Alright, follow me to my office, Miss Park.”

Almost an hour since Jungkook has been focused on you. He was damn sure that your hands and voice were similar to MissPeach. He has been watching her for a month and he knows her perfectly. Her moans, whimpers, begging, sniffles, everything to the point she showed or let him see, he noticed.

However, he couldn't risk any false situations.

The picture of the peach tattoo flashed in front of his eyes. How MissPeach confessed to masturbating in university and that too while thinking about a professor… right into feeding his fantasies.

Not that he dreamt of that before but since MissPeach and you blocked his mind, he couldn't help but want this to happen. As forbidden as it was, you were a fully grown adult.

His pants started to tighten, his cock begging for a touch. But he pushed the need behind his head. He shouldn't think such filthy things while you are struggling to solve the equation in front of him.

He loved how your bangs caressed your soft cheeks. He wanted to caress your forehead to get rid of the tension lines you got while concentrating. He loved it when your nose scrunched up whenever you got stuck on a specifically harder equation.

He wondered why you had tiredness kissing your face. He hated that and wanted to take you in his arms and hum you to sleep in his lap.

Oh! He would do anything just to free your lower lip from the confines of your teeth and caress it with his thumb… kiss it with his lips and taste your pretty mouth.

His eyes widened at his wild thoughts. Fuck. He thought.

But something in his mind said that he needed to know if you were MissPeach or not.

Tattoo… he needed to keep an eye for it. She herself said that she always hid it whenever she came live or when she wore something like cropped tops.

…

It was the fifth day of the extra classes. You were waiting for Jungkook in his office with your notebook and textbook out as commanded by him. He informed you earlier that in this extra class, you will be joined by someone. You had no idea who this person was.

After about five minutes, the door opened. Along with Jungkook, another girl walked in. Margot.

There was nothing good about her. At least when it came to you, it wasn't. She was the only daughter of a realtor father and an advocate mother. Her nose was always high in the sky and her eyes looked down on people like you.

For her, you were not worth the hassle.

“Miss Park, Miss Bell was having trouble with the topic we are going to cover today. So I thought maybe we could work on it together!” Jungkook said as he took his seat in front of you and Margot on your left.

You nodded.

“Oh, well… I would have preferred this to be a private session, Mr Jeon. You know, it's better with personal attention and not,” Margot looked at you with a side eye, “share it with a scholar.” She spat the word scholar as if it were a pesticide.

Her voice was animatedly high-pitched and it annoyed you to no end.

“Really? I don't think so. Instead, I think that this is better. If you have any doubts, it can help Miss Park as well. And if Miss Park has any doubts, it can help you. Knowledge is never private, Miss Bell,” Jungkook sweetly said. You admired his thinking. He wasn't only hot and intelligent but also highly respectful as well. “Now without wasting time, let's start, shall we?”

It was only fifteen minutes in when Margot started to shit from her mouth.

“Mr Jeon, are you single?” she asked.

Jungkook looked up from his laptop and lowered his glasses. “Why do you ask?”

“You don't look single. There must be someone just as hot as you that you are dating,” your eyes widened at her choice of words.

Jungkook chuckled. “No, Miss Bell. I'm single.” His eyes stole glances at your face. You were buried in your book but he knew you were listening.

“Such a waste of hotness,” Margot tsked. “I think you deserve someone with pretty eyes, a sharp face and an intelligent mind, and money as well— ‘cause you know, there are many who would anything for money if they don't have it themselves! I'm sure you will go for someone who looks like a princess. With dusty blond hair,” At this point, she was just pointing out her own features.

“Miss Bell, I don't think you should be discussing such stuff. Plus, Miss Park must be getting disturbed,” his reply made your butterflies jump.

“Who cares? This is not all, you know? A girl must keep herself up to standards. No one will look at her if she keeps on being like this. A girl must wear good clothes, wear shoes that have solid soles and not hang by a single thread. Get a proper manicure done. Have some sense and class with good brands. And knows how to properly use make-up and not just use some cheap ass shit that cakes up,” you fisted your hands to hide your chipped nail paint as you felt the redness and shame crawling up your neck.

“Stop, Miss Bell! Thi–”

“I- I need to go,” you interrupted Jungkook and stood up. You messily collected your books and ran out without even putting them in your bag. You felt suffocated.

Jungkook could never be yours. You had nothing. You were average-looking, had no money to buy big brands, and had the most average life. and not to mention how you chose to bare yourself on the internet in front of strangers for money instead of going for an actual job.

You had nothing against people who did this with choice but you had never been this open-minded about it. Hell, you were still a virgin.

Long ago, your parents had a small business which earned enough for a healthy living. But because of your father's sudden illness, everything went to nothing. To pay the bills, your parents had to sell almost everything little by little and in that, the business went crashing. They sold the house and moved into a smaller house. It was still expensive. Hospital bills were stacking up. Most of your money went into that. It wasn't your choice to move away and stay like this. But desperate times bring desperate measures.

Why would Jungkook like you when you had too much shit to handle? He would probably walk away. Would he even look at you like you wanted? Never. You were his student, a twenty-one years old but still a student. While he was thirty years old successful professor.

…

It has been a week since MissPeach last came live.

You were kind of not feeling going on live after your qna. People, other than Daddy, made you feel like a worthless object that deserved nothing but to bare herself for the world to see. They had forgotten that there was an actual person with a heart that gets hurt as well.

So when you went live without any previous notice, you preferred to not talk at all and just release your stress. Plus you needed money to send it to your parents.

After coming back from your extra class with Jungkook, you could feel your arousal running down your thighs. Even though you weren't feeling good, your pussy had its own mind.

You were going to take care of your problem in private but you needed that money.

When the notification popped on Jungkook's phone, he quickly turned off the heat under the pasta and sat on the couch. He wasn't expecting you to go live but it was more than fine. He gets to talk to you.

The live started. You were sitting on your chair, wearing your underwear. A pastel blue set. Jungkook was quick to type the compliment and donate some money.

Bigdaddyj: My pretty baby looks so beautiful as always <3 –$300

He waited for you to say something but it never came. It was odd, you always replied to him.

You didn't say hi or ask how everyone's day was. Nothing.

Bigdaddyj: Baby? Everything alright?

You leaned back and sighed. Hooking up your thumbs with the corner of your panties, you removed them showing glistening folds.

Cummingdick: thank fuck this slut decided to show some pussy.

Randomdude: wanna fuck that hole so fucking bad💦

You slid your hand between your legs and teased your folds, not touching where you needed them the most. The slick was dripping down on your bed.

A blissful sigh escaped your throat when your cold fingers finally touched your throbbing clit. “Daddy,” you whimpered. It was your way to make him know that you acknowledge him and him only.

Jungkook’s cock hardened embarrassingly quickly. He knew something was not right and that MissPeach was feeling off but now when she moaned what she called him, he couldn't resist. He was sure that she was thinking of that professor but fuck he would be lying if that didn't just make him want to be delulu.

You picked up a lipstick and opened it. Dropping the cap, you picked another big blush brush with a metallic multi-coloured stick.

You pressed the button at the bottom of the lipstick and it started to buzz. Bringing it down to your clit, you gasped and moaned lewdly when the high vibrations buzzed through your veins.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you moaned.

Jungkook took out his cock from his sweatpants and stroked himself. This was one of his favourite toys that you owned paired with the brush wand in your hand. He always complimented her about it.

Bigdaddyj: Such a good girl, you are. Using Daddy's favourite toys. Hm? –$500

The ting of the donation made you look at the screen and made you moan knowing it was from Daddy. You turned on the brush and teased your hole with it. The double vibrations left you with your mouth wide open in a silent scream.

Slowly, you pushed the brush inside you. “Ah, Daddy please fuck me!” you screamed.

You closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook. He has been leaving subtle touches– not sexual. But they were enough for your weaker self.

You imagined his fingers rubbing your clit, spitting on it as his cock plunged into your filthy cunt. The vibrations against your G-spot made you see the stars.

It was embarrassing to admit that you had seen his huge bulge in the classroom sometimes.

You imagined how his hot cock would feel in your pussy as you rode him while his hands played with your tits, pinching your sensitive nipples. You just wanted him to wrap his hands around your throat and choke you as you lay under him with your knees touching your chin.

The overwhelming feeling of vibration from both the toys and the image of Jungkook ruining your cunt.

Jungkook matched the pace of your hand thrusting the damn thing in your swollen pussy. He was so close.

He had never seen MissPeach so out of it. He loved it.

His balls tightened, ready to burst anytime. Soon enough, his cock twitched and he emptied himself all over his white shirt when you moaned out loud and squirted. The brush slipped out of your cunt.

You dropped the lipstick thing and slapped your pussy as you squirted more and more with the image of Jungkook between your legs, lapping up your juices like the gentleman he is.

Your eyes and breath took time to adjust and when you felt normal, you turned off the live and sat there thinking about what just happened just like Jungkook who was hard again after seeing you squirt like a broken faucet.

You had never squirted in your whole life.

…

There was complete silence in Jungkook’s office. You were sitting in front of him, working on some theory. Your concentration was strong and you grasped everything perfectly.

Everything about you was quiet. You walked quietly, talked quietly, and even your breath was quiet. Not a single noise that you have ever made. However, you were even quieter after that class with Margot and that didn't slip from Jungkook’s attention.

Whenever you had any doubts, you would just slide your notebook or textbook across the table with a circle around the doubt.

He missed your voice.

Subconsciously, he noticed everything about you. You never talked to anybody. Never hung out in the canteen. Heck, he didn't even see you outside of these classes. It was as if you vanish after classes and only appear in the class.

Considering your age, he expected to catch you with a boy or a girl here and there. He had caught almost the rest of the students in such a compromising state. And he wasn't too old himself, just thirty years old, he knew what this generation's needs were.

He was, to say the least, concerned about you.

“Miss Park?” He called.

You looked up from your book and waited for him to continue. “I know it might come out as inappropriate but I couldn't help but notice how you are always on your own. Like, I've never seen you with someone else before and never outside of the classes. Is everything alright?”

You were wondering why he was suddenly interested in your pathetic life. “I don't think I get along well,” you whispered, thinking it should be enough and focused back on the book.

“Why not? You are smart and intelligent. I'm sure there are many who would want to be friends with you,” he said with enthusiasm to encourage her to have friends.

You just looked up at him again and shook your head and looked down again.

“That’s not the spirit, Miss Park. Trust me, friends come a long way. I have my childhood friends and other friends still in contact. Any need? They are right there for me,” he tried to reason.

You sighed, “Mr Jeon, I'm happy that you have such friends. But it's not everyone's thing. Not everybody is able to make friends. Sometimes it's better to be just… left alone. I would rather focus on studies, pass, and get out of here. I have no time for anything else.”

There were unspoken words left. Jungkook wanted to hear those. But he didn't press you much. He could see the wave of sadness that shifted on your face. He hated it.

He still blames himself for bringing Margot with him to the class. There was too much that these rich students (of course, not all but some) didn't understand. And he could see the maturity that you attained. He knew things were much deeper than mere relatability.

“Do you bring your lunch from home, Miss Park?” he abruptly asked.

You frowned but nodded.

“Did you bring it today as well?”

You nodded, again.

“Great! You should eat here. With me. I made some Jjajangmyeon and was wondering if I could have some company during lunch. It doesn't feel right without sharing… you can share your lunch with me!” he smiled, closed his laptop and placed the book he was going through away.

“I don't think you would want to have my lunch,” you nervously whispered.

“Oh, hush! Now pack up, it's lunchtime!”

Not even five minutes later, there were two bowls with noodles in it. Jungkook started to mix his bowl and pointed his eyes at yours with a smile, asking you to eat as well.

Jungkook had happily taken half of your sad American cheese sandwich and ate it with a huge smile. He had said that it was really good and you didn't believe him at all. But his following lines almost made you cry. They were— “You know, Miss Park, I always love food. It could be as simple as bread and butter or as complex as Korean BBQ. In the end, it's food. Not everyone gets to eat it. So I'm thankful for what I have and what I eat. No one should be ashamed of what they eat. As long as it fills up your stomach, it is good.”

This only added another reason why you loved hi–

Loved?

…

The moment you and Jungkook stepped into the library, he kept his eyes on you while you tried to find a specific book for your extra class.

Ever since he started giving you extra classes, he has paid more attention to you. And not from an academic perspective but as in you. He was hurt, to say the least.

You were alone. And he saw that right through your eyes.

Being away from one's home country and staying with ruthless rich young adults was not something as pleasant for someone from the working class. He felt for you. No details were needed to know that these people must have made your time here harder.

Since Margot, he had seen an utter decline in your health as well. Even in the stream, he noticed how your body had gone thinner.

Yes, he was certain that it was you, the MissPeach. But still, the odds were there.

After that lunch from yesterday, he had been thinking about you without any break. He couldn't even set the worksheet for juniors just because he was consumed by you. He kept seeing your tired eyes and the dark circles that stuck to them.

It took all the will to keep his fingers from caressing them and kissing them away. A strange wish to protect you and keep you arose within him that he never felt before.

It shook him, how much he had grown to care for you in just two weeks. He was afraid that you might break down at any moment.

You were this fragile little doll and yet so strong. He admired you. You were everything he ever wanted… scratch that, you were more than what he ever wanted. It was like he asked for an Apple but he got a basket full of apples with an apple pie. And love beside it.

Jungkook kept looking at you from where he was standing and smiled as you looked through the shelves of books to find what you needed. The tiny scrunching nose and your baby hair falling over your face… just adorable. He wished he could thread his fingers through them and tuck them behind your ears as his fingers brushed your nape, raising your goosebumps.

He smiled when he saw your eyes light up after you spotted the book you were finding. It was way above the shelf and you tried to reach it.

You looked too good to be true.

You tried reaching it with your right hand, and when failed, you switched to your left. As if that arm was longer than the other.

Jungkook chuckled and took one step to help you but instead, he froze in his place. His eyes wandered down and stopped at the naked skin just above your left hip. There it was. The pretty peachy peach sitting on your skin, taunting him.

His heart stopped for a moment and then ran faster like the wind in the thunderstorm.

Something feral ticked inside his guts.

You tried to reach for the book but it was too far up. Just as you were about to turn around and fetch the stool, a warm body pressed against your back and a hand rested on your covered right side. You didn't need to know who it was… that musky earthy scent was enough to make your heart beat like crazy knowing it was Jungkook.

You dumbly looked at his hand slowly grabbing the book and bringing it down to you. His hot breath fanned against your ear and his lips brushed against the shell of it.

And then he said in a deadly deep, low, and raspy voice, “I think, next time, you need to be more careful with your tattoo… MissPeach.”

The book dropped on the ground. Your eyes widened and your mouth parted open. Daddy. No one but Daddy knows.

Millions of haunting thoughts swirled in your head making you feel lightheaded. You were sure he was going to expose you and get you expelled.

“Meet me in my office, Miss Park,” he said and lightly kissed your ear. “Right now.”

The coldest warmth disappeared. So did your last brain cell.

You were doomed.

…

When you knocked on the door to the office, your soul almost left your body, trying to free itself from the humiliation.

The ever-soft “come in” made you realize that there was no going back. You fucked up.

How could he be Bigdaddyj? That shocked you to no end. You shouldn't have revealed that fucking tattoo of yours that night. But you felt a need to share at least one thing with that faceless stranger to feel something. To feel like you, too, had someone who knows your dirty secrets. Oh! The worst of all… the confession about masturbation.

Talk about sharing secrets. You scoffed at yourself.

Hesitantly, you opened the door and entered the room without looking up. You shut the door behind you extra tightly, making sure no one on the other side could hear anything. Unless they stuck their ears to the door.

Your body trembled as you stepped in front of his desk and stood there like a shivering statue. The inner screaming made you restless. This was too embarrassing to handle.

Your professor whom you have been crushing over since day one has seen you masturbate on the internet and the worst part is, he donated you good money as well.

He was going to ask for money, wasn't he? You cringed at yourself. How were you going to repay?

“Miss Park, I guess we both know what we are going to… discuss,” he started. You nodded. “Words… Miss Park.”

“Yes, Mr Jeon,” you whispered.

Jungkook stood up from his chair, “We had a nice talk in that stream, didn't we?”

The tears pricked your eyes so you kept your head down, keeping the sight of your face away from his expensive eyes.

He slowly walked around the table and stood behind you, caging you with his arms around you and placing his hands flat on the table. “It’s interesting, you know? To know that one of my students is a camgirl,” he whispered in your ear. “Do you want me to keep this dirty little secret for you, too?”

You nodded to you a few times, praying so that he could indeed keep this a secret. “Please,” you whispered in a weak tone.

“Hmm… but I want to know one thing in return, MissPeach…” his chest plastered with your back.

“Tell me one thing. Who is that professor whose thoughts make you wet, hm?” his jealousy made his brain fog up and let it out on you. “The one who gets you so fucking horny that you play with that pretty pussy in university with the toy that I sent you. Who is he? Is it Jimin? Or Namjoom? It has to be Namjoon. Big, ripped. He is the definition of hotness. I'm sure you imagine him licking your pretty pussy,” you couldn't imagine yourself. You felt dirty thinking about the image he was pasting. The only time you didn't feel dirty was when you imagined Jungkook and only Jungkook. The idea of being with any other professor made you cringe harder.

The more he talked about you being with some other person, the more tears dropped down your cheeks. You didn't want to admit that it was him. You promised yourself that you would let him paint whatever picture he wanted and never tell him the truth.

“Imaging his dick in your pussy? Isn't it? You would love that, wouldn't you? Having Namjoon’s dick in you and just ju—”

“You!” you screeched when he didn't stop. Into the well went the promise. It was too hard to listen to him.

Jungkook went rigid, “what?”

Your body trembled violently, “it’s you that I think about!” you let it out as your voice cracked.

“Y/n,” you felt his hands on your arms turning you around to face him. “Look me in the eyes, please.”

You looked up and he felt his heart break. Your face was red with tears running down. “Please, Mr Jeon. I beg you to keep this a secret, please! I will do anything you want. I-I’ll do better at Chemistry. But keep this to yourself. I can't– I can't afford to get kicked out. Everything will get ruined. Please n—”

Your words died when your face squished against his warm and hard chest. His one hand threaded through your hair and the other one rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered. “I won't ever tell this to anyone, baby. There is nothing wrong. I may have– no… I definitely let my jealousy take over and act like an idiot. You have done absolutely nothing wrong.”

Your eyes were wide open but they relaxed. Your shaky hands reluctantly circled around him and hugged him back. You felt warm. Not only on the outside but inside as well. The ice of burden melted for a while with the warmth he gave you. His fingers caressing your scalp made your head feel better. His hand running along your spine calmed your inner screamings.

Strangely enough, he was all you needed at that moment.

You just wanted to melt into his warmth and become a part of him.

As ridiculous as it looked, it was magical. Healing even.

You felt his nose against your head and he sniffed before pulling himself away just a little to see your face.

Jungkook gently wiped your cheeks and tucked your loose locks behind your ears. Your soft gaze softened his heart and he kept looking into them.

His hands cupped your face and pulled you closer to his face. Your nose touched with his and his minty fresh breath fanned your face.

Without using any words, he asked for your permission. As much as your brain was screaming to push him and run away, your mind made your head nod.

His eyes smiled.

And then he let his soft lips be on yours. Everything about him was warm and soft.

His lips lapped yours in a slow kiss. It was not lusty or heated but the one where he expressed more than he could say. The care, the love, the admiration. He didn't only kiss your lips but your soul. Dramatic but made sense.

Your lips moved in sync.

Jeon Jungkook was your first kiss.

He was careful trying not to hurt you. He held your face as if it was made of glass. Your hands were clutching his shirt as if you let go, you might actually break. It felt like a fever dream, the one from which you never wanted to wake up.

Your lips parted away from his and your forehead rested against his. You opened your eyes unhurriedly and saw him already looking at you.

“Jealousy?” you asked.

Jungkook’s hands slid down and held your waist, “you might have stolen my heart, Princess,” he deeply whispered. “Let it be MissPeach or Miss Park… your both of those sides snatched my heart. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting to be with you, baby,” his thumbs drew circles on your waist. “At first it was the fascination of MissPeach but since I have started to get to know you, I've been dying to make you mine, Princess. You fucked up my mind… And I love it. I love it more than I should,” he breathily chuckled.

“How did you know it was me?” your mind was blurred with proximity.

“Believe me or not but it was your hands that made me realize and when you talked, I knew it was MissPeach,” he said and kissed the tip of your nose.

“My hands?” you frowned and looked at your hands. You turned them around to see what gave them off.

Jungkook chuckled and held your hands in his large ones. Bringing them closer to his lips, he pecked them. “Everything you allowed me to see and hear, I know them. A single look and a single noise of you will always make me know that it's you, Princess.”

You were at a loss for words. “But why would you pay attention to a girl who fucks herself for everyone to see?”

With two fingers, he lifted up your chin and looked into your eyes, “You are not just a girl, Y/n. You are my girl. And don't think of yourself any less just because you are a camgirl. I know you and know that you are better than anyone I have ever known.” You could see the concern swimming in his pebble eyes. “I want you to be mine, baby. Is that too much to ask?”

“You are my professor,” you voiced your fear. “What if someone finds out?”

“Not forever,” he kissed your forehead. “And no one will find out. Just one and a half more years, baby. Then we can be free and be ourselves. Give it a try, okay?”

You had nothing to lose.

“Okay.”

…

Little peeking and pecking kept going on between Jungkook and you. Small smiles and reassuring pats on the back were a new routine that the two of you followed.

There was no need for any extra classes anymore but it only felt right and it was the only way to spend some time without anyone interrupting or feeling highly alerted.

You were sitting on the chair, working through some practical problems on your own. Nothing was better than this. Sitting in your professor's office, studying peacefully, stealing some kisses and praises, and just existing together— no more existing alone.

Jungkook was leaning against the table next to you, running his fingers through your luscious locks. It was his newly found habit that he loved the most.

His fingers traced your forehead, moving along your temple down to your chin, he raised your head and looked deep into your eyes. His thumb grazed your lower lip. His eyes were taking in the softness of your lips.

Leaning down till your foreheads touched, he said, “Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are, Princess?”

“Like ten minutes ago,” you closed your eyes and took in the closeness.

“Really?” he gasped. “I should tell you that more often than that,” you giggled. Something in his chest warmed up. “You are the most perfect person I have seen, baby.”

“Yeah?” He hummed in answer. “But don't you think that other girls are perfect and I’m nothing in front of them? They have perfect features and perfect bodies. Their hair is always well-styled and their makeup is seamless. And their skin looks baby-soft all the time.”

It was odd to unfold your insecurities like this.

Jungkook inhaled, “look at me, baby,” he asked in the softest voice. When you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes, he began, “They are pretty and perfect. Just not for me. Everyone is pretty and perfect in their own little ways. And you, my darling, are the most perfect and breathtaking woman I've ever seen in my life. They are pretty in my eyes, but you are prettier. They might have the softest skin but I only want to caress your sweet cheeks. Their hairstyles take much effort, probably but yours are the ones that make my heart flutter. Everything you do is far better than them for me. So, never say that ever again. Of course, if you feel insecure, you tell me. I'll make sure to make you feel like the queen that you are. And if anyone touches you to tell you otherwise, they will be seeing a version of me that nobody asked.”

Your heart quivered. No one has ever made you feel the way Jungkook did. Older men like him always know how to be a gentleman. Nothing compares to him. You were sure that he was a cleaner version of Zade Meadows.

Something else has been bothering you. “Mr Jeon…”

“Yes, baby?” he caressed your cheek.

“I–I masturbate on live streams. Doesn't that bother you?” you looked everywhere but his eyes.

Jungkook straightened up and walked back to his seat and sat down. “Come here,” he patted his lap.

You stood up and shakily walked to him. His hands clutched your sides and made you sit on his lap, your legs on his either side and back against the table.

His hands rubbed your sides to calm your trembles. “Why do you ask that?”

“I don't know,” you whispered.

“You didn't go live since that day, baby. Why is that?” you rested your palms on his shoulders.

“I wasn't sure if you would like that, me going live after everything happened between us,” you hated to talk about this but it was necessary. And the sooner you talk about this, the better.

“Do you enjoy doing lives? Tell me honestly, okay?” he asked. His eyes held nothing but understanding. That made it easier for you. But you still took some time. Were you really into this whole ordeal? “Baby?” Jungkook shook you out of your head.

“I don't,” you blur out. Jungkook's eyebrows raised in half surprise and half question. “Well, not as much. I guess the more I did the more I became used to it. There are things I don't like about it. And if I had other options, I would have never gone this way.”

His hands moved to your back, and seeing your shiny eyes made his heart ache. He pulled you closer to his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Then why are you doing this, pretty? Why is there no other option?”

You inhaled his intoxicating scent before you began, “My father had a business. It had about two million worth of average turnover. It was going perfectly. My mother was a housewife. We were living a perfect little life like any other middle-class family. We had a two-story house in the city and two cars. Nothing else was needed. However, everything came crashing down one day…” Jungkook felt wet against his neck, it squeezed his heart but he kept listening as he rubbed your back.

“He was rushed to the hospital and we got a call. My father had a brain tumour. It was bad. It affected such parts of the brain that made his body non-functional. I was still a minor and wasn't aware of much. Things took a great turn and in a span of a few years, everything that my father built from scratch was gone.

His medical bills were amassing up. We had to sell everything. We sold one car. A year later from that incident, we sold our house,” you choked on your words. Your hands clutched Jungkook's shirt tightly in your fist. “We moved closer to the hospital but outside the city. It was a one-room apartment. It had no rooms. Just a space which had one kitchen and one door that led to the bathroom. Nothing else.

We lived there. My parents still live there. I worked hard every day to get a scholarship. I forgot what it was like to sleep or have fun. In that little space, three of us were… we were just there. Not really alive. But just three beating hearts. I passed my exam. I got the scholarship,” you took a deep shaky breath.

“I got into the University I always wanted. I maintained my grades so that I could change my and my parents’ lives. My professors there were impressed with my performance so they persuaded me to give my name in the student exchange program. I wasn't sure before but they said that it was only going to help me and make my resume look like a quote-unquote shining star

“Good things come with their own bitterness. Even if the fee was forgiven, I still had to reach here. We didn't have enough funds for that so we ended up selling our second car. I preferred to live off-campus. It wasn't the most sane idea but it was harder to be in a dorm.

“So when I came here, I found a job as a barista but that didn't pay any of my bills. And my parents needed money as well. My mother couldn't work because she needed to look after my father all the time. So, I took responsibility because they spent too much on me for me to come here. And I didn't want to be a burden.

“So the only option I was left with was live streaming. It pays my rent and the rest goes to my parents. For hospital bills and all. Nothing else earned me enough but this. So I had to do what I do now.”

It was a dead silence. Jungkook's hands on your back stopped moving somewhere in between. You wanted him to say something or at least run your back to comfort you. But when you raised your head and looked at his face, silent tears were running down his closed eyes. He was biting his lip so that no voice escaped him.

He wanted to comfort you by staying strong but it was harder than it was in his head.

“Jungkook,” you first time took his name. It made his heart flutter. He opened his eyes and just looked at you. You looked tired and it all made sense to him. You stayed away from everyone and closed yourself off just so you could work hard towards your goals and make something out of your life. To make a difference in the family and help them.

You took steps out of your liking and comfort zone just so your parents could have a little bit of ease on themselves. You were beyond perfect. You were more than an angel.

You were too good to be true.

He choked on his words, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn't mean to cry but I just can't help,” his last three words were almost inaudible.

Your heart clenched and fresh tears poured out of your eyes. Holding his face in your tiny hands, you wiped his tears and kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what, baby?” he sniffed.

“…just take it,” you kissed his cheek.

He smiled and pecked your glossy lips. “You know that I’m so proud of you, baby. And you just keep on making me prouder every single day. I admire your will and strength. There is nothing that can stop you from chasing your dreams, pretty girl. And I'll be right next to you to make sure that you have everything in the world you need to keep you happy. I'll take all of your tensions and work on them with you. You don't have to worry about anything. Let me know the bank details and I'll take care of your parents’ expenses from now on.”

“No,” you said. “I don't want you to do that at all. All I want from you is to be here. Let me take care of my parents, please. I don't wanna take anything from you. The only thing I want is you and nothing else,” you were aware of the blind money that this university paid to their A-listed professors and Jungkook happened to be one of them. But you weren't here for money but for him.

“I will be always here with you just like right now,” he whispered against your lips before joining them.

He bit your lip lightly making you gasp. The innocent kiss turned into a heated one. Taking the opportunity, he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. You let him explore your mouth as you did his. He sucked your lower lip and let it go.

Your jaw was littered with kisses and licks as he found his way to your neck. It took him two seconds to find your soft spot and sucked on it, making you hum. Your hands threaded through his hair and fisted them.

Your nails against his scalp made his cock twitch in his pants and it got harder the more you moaned. He looked into your eyes. “Baby, we need to stop before I do something else,” he warned you.

You whined, “No, please don't stop now,” you begged.

“But you are not fine right now,” he tried to reason.

“I won't be if you don't touch me! Make me forget everything but you, Mr Jeon! Make me feel free… Please fuck me!” you begged.

Something ticked inside him. His eyes went feral. The blood left his brain and rushed straight into his cock. He swiped everything from his table and dropped you on it. He hastily removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He came closer and attached your forehead with his As he looked into your eyes.

In a low, deadly voice, I’m going to fuck you senseless, baby. I'll make sure we leave this campus with you in my arms and not on your feet.”

Jungkook removed his shirt and shortly his pants followed behind. He lets you take in his body. Your jaw slacked open. He had a murderous figure. His chest was big and his abs were defined. What made your pussy throb like a bitch was his right arm which was adorned with tattoos. You knew about the hand tattoos but you never knew about the arm. He was full of surprises.

His thighs were big and stiff. You knew it. Every time he made you sit on his lap, you knew they had their own glory and you wanted to ride it anytime.

It looked like God himself— no, the Devil himself carved this man. There was no way that God would create something this sinful.

“Like what you see, Princess?” if you knew his voice could go any deeper, you would have controlled yourself better. But you let out a loud moan just by hearing his voice while shamelessly looking at his body. The outline of his humongous cock didn't go unnoticed.

“Oh my God,” you shakily whispered.

Jungkook didn't wait any longer, his patience was already running low. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, waiting for you to give him the green light.

It took a shy smile and a nod from you for him to go wild. He removed your shirt and captured your lips between his. Your tongues fought for dominance.

The bra was next to go. Your sensitive nipples hardened as the cool air touched them.

Then his eyes fell on that little tattoo that made him untamed. That little peach above your hip teased him. “That is going to kill me someday, baby,” he grunted.

Jungkook cupped your tits and kissed his way to them. He pushed you down on the table and lapped on your left nipple. His left hand cupped your other tit and his right hand fondled with your pants button.

He opened it and slid his hand in your panties. His fingers touched your leaking pussy and slid lower to your hole. He brought his wet fingers to your clit and rubbed it slowly making you moan out his name.

He chuckled darkly, “Look at you, all wet for me,” he teasingly bit your nipple as his eyes were fixed on your face. He loved how your face scrunched up with pleasure.

He took the other nipple in his mouth and repeated the assault on them. Slowly, he kissed down your sternum. His warm lips hovered above your tattoo and then he kissed it. You thrashed under him as he kept licking and sucking the spot. He was satisfied when the pastel colours of your tattoo had a deep red and purple hue around it.

He waited for this, to see your face while the tremors of pleasure ran through your body. None of your lives could compete with the real thing that you had. And Jungkook worshipped it.

He pinched your clit and made your back arch, pushing your breast more into his hungry mouth. He loved how your body reacted to his touches. And the forbidden nature of the relationship made him hornier.

It was so wrong yet so right.

“This needs to go, baby,” he rasped. His hands impatiently removed your pants along with your panties. “Fuck,” he grunted.

No, seriously… the real thing could never match the screen.

Jungkook took a seat and pulled you closer by your legs. He dropped your legs on his shoulder, kissing his way up to your pussy. Your legs trembled around his head as he got closer.

Supporting yourself up with your elbows, you looked into his mischievous eyes. You had never seen such a look in his eyes. Your heart felt glad that it was that way. Not in a million years, you wanted him to give this look to someone else.

He teased your pussy by giving light kisses on your folds. But he gave in as you started to whine. The moment you felt his hot lips pressed onto your pussy, your eyes rolled back as you fell back. His lips wrapped around your throbbing clit and sucked it.

Your nails scratched the wooden table as his tongue played with you. He lapped your dripping hole and moaned as your sweet taste coated his mouth.

The vibrations of his moans made your legs wrap around his head harder but he slapped them away. “Be a good little kitten for me, baby.”

“Please,” you moaned.

“Please what?” he bit your clit.

“Please, sir.”

“Oh, fuck!” he grunted as he found out his new kink. His cock got harder, which surprised him. “What do you want, Princess? Tell me, baby. Tell your professor what your needy cunt wants.”

Another wave of sinful shocks travelled your belly as he talked dirty making you cry out in bliss, “Your fingers! Please, sir!”

He smirked at you and licked your clit just as he pushed two of his fingers in your cunt. Your brows scrunched up and your mouth fell open.

His long, thick fingers filled you up. They moved along with the rhythm of his tongue and did come hither motion, teasing your g-spot.

His fingers picked up the pace and fucked you. He could feel your climax coming closer as your pussy throbbed around his fingers. He didn't stop and soon enough, your back arched, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and came all over his fingers.

Jungkook almost came in his boxers when your needy cunt squirted all over him. He didn't stop sucking on your clit and plunged his fingers until he got everything you had for him.

He removed his fingers and looked into your eyes as he licked his fingers clean. He bent over you with his arms next to your head, “You taste so fucking sweet, Princess. So fucking pretty.”

You pulled him in and smashed your lips against his lips and tasted yourself. “You know, that day on live, it was my first time squirting and I was thinking about you doing exactly this.”

“Baby, you are going to fucking kill me,” he said as he cock twitched and begged to be released. He made a quick move in discarding his boxers and freed his cock as it smacked against your pussy.

You pulled apart and looked down at his angry, throbbing cock. Your eyes bulged out at the length and the girth of it. His cock was bigger and fatter than any of your little toys. You weren't sure if he was going to fit.

“I don't think that will fit in,” you whispered, still glancing at his monstrosity.

He chuckled darkly and pecked your lips, “Baby, my dick was made to serve your pretty little cunt,” he hummed in your ear as his hand slid his cock on your slit, making it slicker with your cum. “So, your cunt will take,” he aligned his cock with your hole, “this,” he pushed his angry head in, “fucking,” your eyes rolled as his cock practically ripped your insides, “dick,” he shoved it to the hilt.

His breath came out in pants. He kissed your lips as you got used to his size. “So fucking warm and tight,” he mumbled against your lips. “It’s all mine… all mine.”

“More,” you gasped. “Fuck me like I’m your slut!”

Jungkook smirked as his cock twitched in your cunt. He slowly pulled out a few inches and shoved his cock back, making you moan. His veiny cock rubbed your walls perfectly and the curve of his cock made his hot head caress your G-spot.

It was an overwhelming feeling but in a good way.

Slowly he picked up his pace and fucked you. His right hand went between your body and rubbed your clit. “Oh my God!” you moaned.

He looked between your bodies where you were sucking him in. His cock twitched seeing how your pussy was all spread open around his cock. The velvety warm walls of your cunt made it harder for him to stay sane. He was trembling just like you.

“So perfect for me, baby. So perfect,” he whispered as he kissed your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you do good. I'm gonna fuck my pretty little slut so good that she forgets everything but me.”

“Jungkook!” your moan turned into a gasp when you felt a sting on your ass cheek. Jungkook rubbed the area where he had just spanked you. He looked you in the eye with a murderous glare. He stopped his thrusts.

“What do you say, slut?” he growled. “I think you are asking for a punishment. Hm?” you screamed when his heavy hand landed on your sensitive clit.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimpered as another hard blow landed on your other asscheek. Your pussy clenched around his cock. He loved it. He loved how you took everything he gave you. Such a pretty little slut for him.

“You like being spanked, don't you?” His thrusts were slow and hard. Your tits jiggled with each stroke. “Look at you, your cunt is practically suffocating me.”

You cried, “Please, sir. I'll be a good girl. Please, harder.”

He leaned in, shoved his tongue down your throat and pushed your legs up. He picked up an animalistic pace and fucked you to oblivion. The sound of skin slapping got louder. His balls slapped your ass.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Like an obedient little slut, you opened your mouth and slipped your tongue out. He collected the spit in his mouth and spat on your tongue. “Swallow,” he moaned as you clenched so badly around his shaft. You swallowed his spit and showed him your mouth. “Good Girl.”

He wrapped his free hand around your neck and squeezed it just enough for you to breathe properly but tight enough to make your pussy throb like a bitch.

“Such a perfect little slut for me,” he grunted. “So fucking kinky and dirty. Just as I love it,” he pinched your clit.

“Only for you!” you gasped.

“Yes, baby. Only for me. I'm never gonna let you go. Do whatever you want, pretty. Do as many lives as you want but only I can touch and fuck this pussy. Only mine,” he bit your lips.

Jungkook could feel you throb around his cock, telling him that you were close. “So close,” you whimpered against his mouth.

“Cum, Princess. Cum for Daddy,” your legs trembled and your back arched as let you cum all over his cock and helped your ride through it.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you screamed.

Jungkook held your legs and fucked you ruthlessly as he chased his own high. He could feel your cum coating his cock. His head felt light as he finally came inside your pussy.

His hot cum filled your pussy to the brim. You felt a small wave of orgasm hit you as he came.

He panted and hugged you closer. His head rested on your chest and listened to your running heartbeat. He loved it. He loved feeling you all naked on his desk. Your hands found their home in his hair as they caressed his scalp. “Baby, are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you panted. You took in the closeness and appreciated every moment with him.

After a moment, Jungkook pulled and looked at your pussy leaking your and his mixed cum. If it were someone else, the thought would never have crossed his mind but looking at your pussy, he wanted to eat it clean. It looked so delicious and creamy. It was as if she was inviting him and taunting him. He needed to eat you.

So he did that.

He sat on his chair and pulled you closer to him and without a warning, he licked your sensitive pussy from your hole to the clit.

You whimpered as he overstimulated your pussy. “Too sensitive.”

“Give me one more, Baby. Just one more. I know you can,” he said and shoved his tongue into your hot cunt and ate till you came on his tongue once again.

You were a trembling mess. You could still feel his cock in your stomach as he got up to clean you. When he gently wiped your pussy with a wet tissue, you flinched but he rubbed his free hand on your side, down to your leg, soothing you and getting you through this.

You looked at his face which was glowing and had an admirable smile on his pretty face. His cheeks and ears were red. He looked at you with stars in his eyes and felt like crying.

Nobody had ever looked at you the way he did. But again, nobody was Jungkook but him.

“Let's go to my place, yeah? I don't want to leave without you. I need you to be closer to me. We can cuddle, watch movies, have dinner, and do anything you want, okay?” he said as he cleaned his softening cock and got dressed up.

You thought for a moment, “Okay…” you didn't want to be alone either. You craved his touch and warmth. This was your first time, it only made you want him more.

“Let's get you dressed up as well,” he smiled.

Jungkook held your hands and helped you off the table but your trembling legs gave up. He caught you and hugged you against his chest. You looked up with your mouth open as you felt sore. He gave you a knowing smirk.

To say the least, he ended up carrying you out of the university to his car.

…

“Oh my God!” you sulked in the corner of the couch as you curled into a ball. “Someone could have walked in!”

It was amusing for Jungkook to watch you just realize that you two had sex in his office at the University. He wondered how only now you registered it and not before while he was buried in your pussy.

“I had my door locked, sweety. Don't worry,” he chuckled as stood by the dining table, mixing the chocolate cake batter.

“Some could have knocked or worse,” you looked up at him with eyes wide open and your expression morphed into horror, “heard us!”

He left the bowl on the dining table and sat beside you, pulling you on his lap. He cupped your pouting face and kissed your lips softly. “Nothing happened, right? So don't worry, my love. Come help me bake the cake and then we will have dinner.”

You hummed and pecked his lips. “Okay, Mr Jeon.”

“Jungkook. It's Jungkook for you, Princess… or Daddy. The choice is yours,” he winked, making you laugh.

Later that night, Jungkook kissed every inch of you. He started from your forehead to your toes. He loved the idea of having you in his bed. He lent you his shirt that was too big for your frame. You wore nothing else under that shirt. He fanboyed over you and worshipped you.

“You look effortlessly beautiful,” he mumbled as he kissed your jaw. “You have me wrapped around your pinky finger in just a couple of weeks, hm.”

You giggled as you rubbed your hand along his tattooed arm. “I never knew you had tattoos.”

Jungkook laid beside you and in his arms and looked at his right arm. “I never show them in the University. When I had recently joined, everyone used to stare. It was a distraction so I started wearing full sleeves.”

“Of course, they will be distracted. And now I will, too! Now whenever I'm going to see you, I will see what's beneath your clothes,” you said.

Jungkook smirked, “Yeah? You will imagine me naked in the class now?” he teased. “I’m your Professor, Princess. Have some shame.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Where was your shame when you ripped my pussy with that sinful thing you call your dick?”

His chest rumbled with a laugh, making you smile. “Touché… I can't really complain, can I? I'll be seeing you naked, too,” he kissed your lips tenderly. “You fucked me up, Princess. I thought it was just lust for MissPeach but fuck, I would be lying if I didn't say I feel more than that and feel like protecting you from everything… Thank you for giving me a chance, love. I'll make sure that you are happy from now on. I'll take care of you from now on.”

“But—”

“Shh,” his finger on your lips shut you up. “I know that it is too soon but please move in here with me, yeah? You don't have to worry about the rent, I own this place. I don't feel good about letting you live alone. It is too soon but you can try, please. As I said before, you can stream as much as you want and support your parents. But let me take care of you. It hurts me to see you tired and not taken care of. So, let me do it. And if someone suspects something. Just say that I rent you a room in the apartment and if they still have any issues, bring them to me and don't hide if someone is rude to my pretty girl, okay?”

“I don't deserve your kindness, Jungkook,” you smiled with watery eyes. “But I'll be selfish for once and take it.”

He smiled and kissed you again. “That's my good girl,” he whispered and turned you around.

Your back was plastered with his warm chest. His arm circled your body and his hand pathed its way between your legs. He cupped your pussy and shoved his two fingers in. His other hand slid under your shirt and groped your breast.

You gasped, “what…?”

Jungkook kissed your shoulder, “you will sleep better. And I get to be closer to you,” he whispered. “Now sleep, Princess.”

You bit your lip and melted in his chest. Your insides exploded with giddiness. It did indeed feel good to have his fingers in your pussy as you fell asleep.

It was the best night ever.

“You deserve all the kindness in the world, Baby.”

…

Epilogue.

12 years later.

The heel of your red bottoms tapped on the floor as you walked down the corridor and you reached your apartment door.

You weren't supposed to go but there was an emergency at the hospital where you were an Oncologist. Luckily, everything was under control and you got to leave sooner. But it was still late.

You entered the passcode and opened the door. However, you were left surprised.

The lights were off but the living room was blooming with candle lights. The floor was covered with roses. There was a lingering scent of your favourite candle along with the mouth-watering aroma of the food.

You walked in and saw Jungkook standing in the middle of the living room. His face was glowing with a perfect toothy smile. “Happy 10th anniversary, Princess.”

You dropped your bag and ran into his arms. He chuckled as you jumped on him. He caught you, spinning you around. Yours and his giggles filled the happy place.

“Happy anniversary to you too, love,” you whispered in his ear. “You didn't have to do any of this.”

“But I wanted to,” he smiled. “Did I tell you that you are gorgeous?”

“About billions of times,” you giggled.

“Ah, still not enough,” he kissed your lips with passion. “I need to tell you that even more.”

“You will go crazy,” you cupped his face.

“I went crazy the day I actually looked at you, Baby,” his nose touched yours. “I love being crazy for you. I love being crazy in love with you. The day you let me have you was the day you made me go insane. I still cry thinking about how the fuck I got so lucky to have you. You are so intelligent, smart, and strong. You did everything for your parents and I don't know how I got you but it's all I ever wanted. Being in love with you makes me realize how addicting you are. All I want is you for me to settle my cravings.

A shy smile tugged at your lips as your eyes watered. “I love you so much, Jungkook. I have no words for it.”

“I see it, Love. I know it,” he hugged you tightly. “Come on, dinner is getting cold.”

In these years, you have come so far. You were no longer a streamer but a well-known Oncologist.

You worked hard towards your dreams and Jungkook stood by your side and supported you. You had nothing to worry about because he was there. Everything fell into one place.

Your father got operated on. Things turned out to be better. He was recovering. But he was fine. When you were settled enough, you asked them to come here. They did. It was the best feeling ever.

Through physical therapy, your father was able to move his body and showed a huge difference in a small amount of time. However, he was still suggested to keep the wheelchair around outside. He was weaker but better.

They were living at the apartment where you lived with Jungkook in University. Along with them, Jungkook’s parents moved into that apartment to help them around. It was fun to have them around, all four of them. They formed a perfect bond in a blink of an eye.

You both bought a new apartment when you found out about your pregnancy four years ago. Jungkook was over the moon and stuck by you like a monkey. He took care of you and the baby.

Two years later you gave birth to another baby. It was a complete family and nothing else was needed.

Jungkook always wanted two kids, a girl and a boy. Now that you had them, he was satisfied with his life. He bragged about you and the babies to everyone. Even at University, he would show baby videos to all of his colleagues.

He proposed to you for marriage right after you completed your degree. He was excited to make you his. He spent hours planning for the wedding that you both wanted.

Everybody teased you about how crazy he was for you.

In the beginning, everyone was disgusted and unaccepting of your relationship. However, everything settled when they saw how genuine you two were. It was as if you two couldn't breathe without each other.

When you became a Doctor, Jungkook cried happy tears and told you how proud he was and that he knew you were going to do big things in life.

That night he showed you so much love.

“Where are Seol and Jae?” you asked about your kids.

“I dropped them at our parents’. I wanted to have you all by myself. In the end, it is our anniversary,” he winked at you with a devilish look on his face.

“Is that so?” you smirked.

“After dinner, be a good girl and go into our room… naked and ass up for me,” his hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it as you looked at him with a slutty look.

“Yes, sir.”

…..

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae

Have a nice day/night💓

#bts #bts smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

4K notes · View notes

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 18 days

Text

we can dip if you’re ready ; satoru gojo

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere), mild age gap (four years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach. but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room. listening to the sound of the nearby sea.

you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and wearing your heart on your sleeve.

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, his pajama pants cling to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

suddenly, without mercy. a finality to his voice.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, three years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture.

there are lots of people out there for you.

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking right at you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god. his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, like fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod; smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws his backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of sugary pancakes on the kitchen table, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends.

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

except they don’t.

the moral of the story is; satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was eighteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

one mellow summer evening, five years later — you step onto a bustling train platform, dragging your luggage behind you, and breathe in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look around, and everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers; peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades. the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you.

with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided; her yellow sundress and matching headband, sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other in person just about a month ago, you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko.”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

you match her expression, eager to protest. “you’re still mad about that? it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards that familiar house. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.”

ah. right.

your lips curl up into a smile, albeit a little uncertain. giddy, maybe. nervous? you aren’t sure. something swirls around in your stomach, little butterflies. tickling the ridges of your ribs, all those fluttering heartstrings. it’s been a while since you felt like this. all your summers are spent here, and all of riko’s, but he’s usually too busy.

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb. the buzz of an old radio spills out from an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze. when you strain your eyes you think you hear humming.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, again, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own.

“good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off. muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own. leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice. “i bet. take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot. unable to properly look into his eyes.

for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward, one large stride towards you, leaning down to wrap his big arms around your waist. bringing you into a hug, not as tight as you remember them being. you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can.

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen.

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly.

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves.

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.”

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for words, brain tied up in fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, and you gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet. soft, sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating, but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament.

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.”

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm.

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat.

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?”

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes…

suguru.

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by. i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers.

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid.

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look.

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe.

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room.

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan escaping him. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with an oddly cold gaze. you follow his stare, craning your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response. “i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him?

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing.

so, one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening.

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more, unable to help yourself, you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re four years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet.

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it drips with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it. okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair gently. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her.

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated. even if you’re completely delusional, and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds.

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable.

he’s strong. very strong. the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after the other, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually. some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those white printed flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no. because i wanted to be prepared,” he murmurs softly. “in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something. i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep his hold around your legs steady. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy.”

a displeased huff.

“… you’re not a random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he quips, standing a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat, absentminded. you’re not sure he hears you. if he does, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time.

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think. more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have.

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you.

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. and you mean it. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking. you wonder if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, oxygen spilling out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, forehead nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

he’s teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm. his voice is set to a melodic lilt, and you feel strangely tempted to close your eyes.

and you adore him again.

right — loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so — if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown backyard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom. just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away, too. at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off lil ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right.

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

2K notes · View notes

chaconnehoonie · 12 days

Text

BFFS- S.JY & P.SH

♡ Sunghoon x Fem! reader x Jake

Synopsis: Your best friends show you how real men treat women.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, threesome, cursing, Jakehoon call reader princess a lot

Smut warnings: Kissing, oral(f&m), handjobs, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight manhandling, squirting, cream pie, reader maybe almost passes out, aftercare(i love)

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This took me three days to write,, pls bear with me as I figure out my writing style. Jakehoon have me going brain dumb and I rlly needed to write this to get it out of my system, enjoy!

You slouched back in your seat, lolling your head to the side to watch the scenery as big open fields pass by quickly. Sighing in disappointment of your “girls day” gone wrong.

“Okay- what do you mean the Airbnb was cancelled? How do you even cancel one of those?” Sunghoon whines in the front seat while giving Jake directions to the nearest hotel. A real passenger princess, he is.

Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, irritated at the faulty trip plan he had made for the three of you. “I don’t know.” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t the one that canceled it. The host did, said something about a family emergency.”

Your eyes grow lazy as the sun sets, watching as the calming twilight takes over the sky. You couldn’t care any less about the Airbnb, just wanting to settle into the nearest bed and relax. So, when Jake finally pulls into the parking lot of the nearest hotel, you’re the first one to hop out of the car.

“Jesus, this place is scary.” You whisper to yourself but Sunghoon picks up on it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “Sorry, Princess. I know this trip was supposed to be for you to relax and let go but we’re on a bit of a delay. The fun can start tomorrow.” He ruffles your hair a bit before you pull away to grab your suitcase. “Don’t even worry about it.”

He takes your suitcase in his hand while also holding his own, forearm flexing under his expensive Tiffany bracelet. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m sorry it’s not going as planned.” Jake is frowning next to you as you walk to the front desk and you shake your head at him. “Please, guys. I know you’re trying your best to make me feel better.”

You turn back to Sunghoon who is now holding your room key, ushering you to the fragile looking stairs that creak under each step. “Room 127.” He mutters out as you turn the corner, nodding his head towards the very end of a long hallway of doors.

Grabbing the key from him to run ahead of them, you open the creaky door to let them in first. “Thanks, Princess.” Jake follows behind Sunghoon through the threshold, kissing your temple in gratitude.

They both huff as they set down the luggage, immediately scanning the room to analyze your living situation. There’s two small beds with a nightstand between, an old CRT TV that probably doesn’t work, a scary painting of a cottage in a forest on the wall next to the bathroom door, and a tiny kitchen with only a small counter, mini fridge, and a table for two.

“Well,” Sunghoon sighs, plopping down onto a bed, “Let’s get comfy.” He smiles and even if this hotel is old and creepy, his grin makes you feel like you’re home. “Thank you, guys.” You’re hit with a sudden sense of sadness and guilt. “I know you guys like trips but this was so last minute because of me and I feel bad for making you guys go through this.”

Jake sits down next to Sunghoon, grabbing one of your hands to lead you to stand in front of them. “Don’t even worry about it. We planned this for you. No best friend of mine is going to get cheated on and then rot in bed for all of eternity.” Sunghoon nods in agreement, taking your other hand in his. “That’s right. We’re for lifers and I’d be an asshole to leave my bestie in the dirt just because she got a little closed off and depressed.”

You squeeze both of their hands, smiling down at their big, loving eyes. “You guys are sweet.” You feel a lump in your throat starting to form, and get suddenly too embarrassed of being emotional to be serious, “But you need to stop with the TikTok slang, I can’t take it seriously.” You joke and they both grin at your attempt to be funny, different from your recently quiet and moody personality.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and when we’re all done washing up, we can put a movie on my laptop, hm?” Sunghoon stands up and Jake follows, leading all three of you to check out the bathroom. As expected, the area is small with just a sink, toilet, and small shower. “Good thing I brought my own soaps.”

Just as you turn to grab your garment bag, a large cockroach is running across the floor and Jake is quick to step on it, hearing the loud splat as it’s squished against the tile. “Wow, I am not sleeping tonight”.

♡.

You mindlessly scroll through social media as your best friends are focused on the horror movie playing on the small screen in front of you, huddled up in a big blanket that’s covering them from head to toe, save for their eyes. All three of you are laying on your stomachs, and you’d feel them jerk and hear small squeals every now and then as they get scared, then teasing each other for being pussies which results in them rolling around on the bed trying to push each other off.

You sigh as you click on a certain story that makes your stomach drop, the video audio blasting as music plays through speakers and your screen flashes bright colorful lights while people dance and grind on each other.

“What are you doing? You’re not even watching the movie!” Jake nudges your side and you nudge him back, pushing him into Sunghoon who is laying next to him. “Yeah, we put this on for you!” Sunghoon joins in on the whining, reaching over Jake to steal your phone. “What are you looking at anyways-” He cuts himself off as he watches the video on your phone, suddenly tapping on the person’s profile. “Your ex? Seriously?”

You sink further into the bed with guilt, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as they stare at you in disbelief. “Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” Jake sounds hurt by this, maybe because you promised him you’d block the man after you left him. “I-I don’t know,” You huff, “I can’t just let go of him like that.” You watch the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenches in anger, then relaxes as he starts speaking again. “Y/N, he cheated on you. He doesn’t love you and you shouldn’t be trying to hold onto him like that anymore.” He doesn’t sound angry, but it’s serious enough to hit you where it hurts, taking a deep breath as tears start blurring your vision.

Before you have time to process it, Jake sits up and pulls you into his lap, sitting you sideways on one of his thighs. “You know he’s not trying to be rude.” He cups your face and wipes the falling tears away with his thumb. “We just want what’s best for you, and that asshole is definitely not the best.” Sunghoon hums in agreement, placing a hand on the back of your head and petting you soothingly.

“Let us show you how a real man treats his girl.” Sunghoon’s voice is low, almost a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck. “W-what?” You sniffle, wiping any tears left on your cheek. “You heard me, babe. Let us make you feel good.” He pulls you off of Jake’s lap, laying you on the bed and kneels on one side of you as Jake kneels on the other side.

They both watch you with big, hopeful eyes, patiently waiting for your answer. You could moan just from the way they devour you with their gaze, so you decide to nod in agreement instead. Jake immediately leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips gently against yours while his hands hold your face. Sunghoon’s hands trail up your thighs and hips to hold your waist, pushing under your cropped tank top to grip your skin softly.

You moan quietly against Jake’s lips and he smiles at the way you’re easily relaxing into two pairs of hands. Sunghoon shifts lower, getting comfortable between your legs as he massages the flesh of your thighs. You moan into the kiss again, this time parting your lips slightly, but enough for Jake to slip his tongue through. At the first brush of his tongue against yours you stiffen, hands coming up to grip his hair.

Sunghoon softly squeezes your hip, grabbing your attention away from Jake and you pull away from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your lips, blushing lightly at the vulgar image. Looking down at Sunghoon, he’s dangerously close to your core, with just your pajama bottoms and underwear in the way. “Can I take these off?” He asks softly, as if trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You whisper out a “yes” and Sunghoon smiles before pressing a kiss to your clothed thigh.

You look back up at Jake who is now groping you from over your thin tank top, watching the way your breasts squish under the weight of his palm. Your back arches slightly, pushing your chest closer to him while you pull him down for another kiss. His mouth opens as soon as your lips touch, letting you stick your tongue in and kiss him nasty enough for spit to trail down your chin and onto your neck.

Jake pulls away, kissing down your cheek to your jaw and neck, lapping at the saliva trail and sucking harshly at the joint of your neck and shoulder. Your back arches higher, grinding your hips against nothing as you realize Sunghoon has gotten your lower half completely bare. You pull your hands away from Jake and shoot up, covering yourself and blushing shyly.

“C‘mon, Princess, show me your pretty pussy.” He nips at your thigh, lightly tapping them to encourage you. Hesitantly, you spread your legs open as he stares down, licking his lips and smirking proudly. “That’s my girl.” He lifts off of his stomach to hover above you, knees on either side of you as Jake takes his spot between your legs. They moved so swiftly you almost didn’t realize that it was Sunghoon you were now kissing.

The way his lips move against yours is different than Jake, softer and less messy but just as hungry. He places his hands on your boobs, softly pinching one nipple and rolling it between his fingers. “A-ah” You whimper into his mouth, lightly biting his bottom lip and he whimpers back in response, shooting butterflies straight down to your core. Jake watches as more slick spills out of you, his cock large and heavy straining against his sweats.

He wastes no time, blowing cold air against your cunt and giving you no chance to complain about teasing as he licks a long stripe up your slit and retracts his tongue back into his mouth to hum at the taste. You shudder at the feeling of him softly kissing your clit, poking his tongue out to gently flick it against you as you press your body up and against Sunghoon.

He takes this as an invitation to continue undressing you, lifting your shirt over your head and staring holes into your chest. Before you can cover yourself again, he catches you and pins your arms above your head with one hand, while the other grabs your face, squishing your cheeks hard enough for your lips to plump up. “God, you’re beautiful.” He leans back down, kissing you softly and pulling away with a smack.

Behind him, Jake is sucking and licking every part of you he can, letting mixes of your slick and his saliva run down his chin and smear on his face. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks harshly. “Fuck- Jake, oh my god.” You moan loudly, pulling Sunghoon closer so he can kiss all over your chest, sucking dark purple and red bruises against your skin.

You assume this is what heaven is. Two hot men kissing and sucking on the most sensitive and intimate parts of you, their hands roaming all over your body to squeeze whatever they feel. You almost forgot that they’re your best friends.

Sunghoon pulls you out of your thoughts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple, softly taking it into his mouth and sucking on it desperately. This sends you over the edge, suddenly feeling too close to your orgasm that your thighs start to tingle and your breathing is unsteady. “Holy shit, g-gonna cum.” You barely have time to warn them before your thighs are closing around Jake’s head, one hand in his hair and the other in Sunghoon’s as he drools against your chest.

“That’s it, baby. Let him taste you.” Sunghoon groans into your ear, his length growing impossibly harder as you lose yourself. Jake doesn’t let go of your clit, instead going further and slipping a finger inside of you easily. “Jesus, you’re soaking.” He smiles as more slick spills out of you, wetting the bed and trailing down his forearm.

“Ah! Too much!” You whine as Jake starts curling his finger, never letting your clit leave his mouth. “It’s okay princess, have to get you prepped for us.” He adds another finger, moaning against your heat at the way he easily slips his digits in, curling them up as your hips chase the feeling.

Sunghoon takes your hand that’s in his hair and trails it down his body, landing on his hard-on. You look up at him as his eyebrows are furrowed, lip caught between his teeth as you gently palm him through his pants. “Go on, take it out.” He wiggles his hips cutely and you nod eagerly.

You fumble with his belt, having to stop a few times to moan and grind against Jake’s fingers. You finally loosen it, popping open the button and unzipping so you can tug his pants down his thighs aggressively. “Relax, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You blush and look back up at him, and he can’t help but cup your face, using his thumb to play with your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to lick the top of his finger and the sight is overwhelming.

He mutters a quiet “fuck” and stumbles off of the bed, pulling his jeans and boxers down before hopping back onto the bed and kneeling at your side again. You take his length in your hand, going cross eyed at how close it is to your face. He’s huge, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to please him. You inhale deeply, softly stroking him just enough to keep him content as you gather yourself.

You don’t notice the way he smiles down at you, taking in just how sexy you look holding his cock while being stuffed with Jake’s mouth and fingers. He’s never admit, however, how many times he’d jerked off imagining this situation or how many times he planned something like this with Jake.

You lean foward to kiss his bare thigh, leading a trail up to his base and up his shaft, then leaving one final kiss on his tip. He throws his head back at the soft feeling, already sensitive and ready to cum on your pretty face. Jake reaches impossibly deep inside of you and you can’t help the loud moan that escapes, warm breath fanning against Sunghoon’s length. He visibly stiffens before grabbing his cock and swiping it across your lips, coating them with shiny pre-cum.

You stick your tongue out just enough to taste him, but not enough to fit him inside your mouth and he groans at your teasing. The sound is enough to send a shock through your body, bringing you to your second orgasm. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck-“ you’re barely able to moan before Sunghoon quickly slides his cock into your mouth, forcing you to gag and choke through your orgasm.

Quickly pulling off, you take a deep breath before shoving Sunghoon back in your mouth, taking half of him down and jerking off the rest while Jake laps up the mess between your thighs. Your thighs start to shake, closing shut around Jake’s head again, attempting to shove him off of you with your free hand. Of course, he doesn’t let up and just uses his strength to force your thighs back open, this time hooking his arms around them to shove his face back in.

He aims straight for your rim, cleaning the mess that’s still leaking from your cunt. It’s a new sensation, something you haven’t tried out before, although now you’re not opposed to trying it again sometime. Who knows, maybe a second time with your best friend.

You gag loudly as Sunghoon’s hips snap and he shoves himself deeper into your mouth, but he halts when you don’t complain and instead take him deeper, testing how far you can take him until you’re reaching the base and nuzzling your nose against his patch of hair.

You breathe in through your nose to keep yourself there longer, saliva pooling in your mouth and spilling out onto your chin and down Sunghoon’s girth. “Fuck, babe, you’re nasty.” He pulls away suddenly, forcing himself out of your mouth and you get the chance to finally moan, acknowledging Jake and letting him know you haven’t forgotten about him.

How could you forget about him, with the way he laps from your soaking cunt to your rim, eating you out like he’s been starved his whole life. You even catch a glimpse of him rutting his hips against the bed, chasing any friction he can to soothe his aching cock.

“Jake” you rasp out, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. The way his hair is messy and his eyes are wide and needy is almost enough to make you cum a third time. “You must be hurting…” you nod your head towards him, motioning to his very obvious painful boner. “Let me help.” He wants to reject you, feeling guilty after promising he’ll take care of you, why make you return the favor?

With the way you look at him with pleading eyes, though, he doesn’t hesitate to undo his sweats, pulling them straight down along with his boxers, and then reaches for the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Sunghoon does the same, using his own shirt to wipe the spit from your chin and neck.

Settling on his knees the same way Sunghoon is, he’s already breathing heavy just from imagining you touching him. So, when you take him in your hand and rub your thumb over his slit, he’s letting out a loud whine that has you craving more. You stroke Sunghoon in one hand while leaning towards Jake to take his tip in your mouth. He immediately bucks his hips forward, then pulls all the way back to apologize.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry- ahh!” You don’t care about his apology, only wanting to hear more of his needy whines as you lick from his base to tip, suckling on the head and looking up to catch his reaction. Just seeing him looking so wrecked just from a few seconds of touching has you moaning around his cock, stroking Sunghoon faster with a tight grip.

Sunghoon thrusts his hips, chasing your fist with every pull and tug, his groans and curses raising in volume each time. Meanwhile Jake’s eyes close tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head while the other holds your cheek, feeling the way it hollows as you take him down your throat. The image is far from unholy. Sitting there, taking one cock down your throat while jerking another.

Feeling bad for Sunghoon, you release Jake but continue stroking him, turning to take Sunghoon in your mouth. “Fuck, just like that. Pretty mouth knows exactly what to do, hm?” His praises make you whine, grinding your own hips down on the bed but missing any possible friction.

Of course, even after two orgasms you crave more. You need more whines and moans from both of them, showing you just how good you make them feel.

You turn back to Jake, taking his cock all the way down your throat, staying there, letting the drool spill from the corners of your mouth as tears do the same from your eyes. He’s choking out a moan, strings of curses falling upon deaf ears as you put your sole focus on getting him to finish. You know exactly what you need to do.

Pulling your head back, you gently lift his cock to stroke it as you turn your neck to lick and suck at his balls. His hips halt, thighs shaking as he grips your hair painfully rough. “God, Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, legs continuing to shake as you take him back into your mouth, running your tongue across his slit until he’s filling your mouth with cum.

His whines seem to set something off in Sunghoon, who’s now cursing loudly as he shoots his own ropes of cum across your cheek and down your neck and chest. You don’t know why all it took was Jake to climax for him to finally cum, but maybe you’ll ask him about that another time.

They both stay kneeling, catching their breaths as you fall onto your back against the pillows, legs weak but still sticky between your thighs. “We’re not done, baby.” Jake leans down to peck your lips when he notices your worried look. Falling next to you, he lays down and pulls you on top of him, hands soothing down your sides in a comforting way.

He pulls your face down for another kiss, breaking it to speak lowly in your ear. “Want me to fuck you?” You already know you’re spilling down your thighs again, looking down to watch the way your pussy sits perfectly on his still hard length. You don’t reply, instead grinding down and forward, sliding yourself against him.

“Yeah? Think you can take it?” You’re in a trance from the way he’s speaking to you, holding you, like you’re precious to him. You nod eagerly, sitting up on your knees to rub his tip across your slit, hearing the slick noises of your arousal. Taking a deep breath, you slowly ease him into you, sitting down and wincing at the way he impales you just from a few inches.

Jake’s face is angelic, eyebrows slightly furrowed but his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, turning white at how hard he’s biting. You finally sit all the way down, feeling him twitch inside of you as you slowly rock your hips, falling forward to moan in his neck. His hands tightly grip your waist, holding you still as he pulls out then slides himself back in, throwing his head back in a loud moan.

You thrust yourself down, meeting his own thrusts halfway as he picks up the pace, low skin slapping sounds filling the room. You completely forgot that Sunghoon was behind you, until his hands are palming your butt, and his lips find their place on your back. His gentle kisses up your spine give you chills, clenching down on Jake who whimpers at the sensation.

“Think you can take both of us?” Sunghoon kisses your ear, giving you no time to respond as he stands back up to do something from behind you that you can’t see. “What?” You ask in a small voice, but it’s answered right away when you feel him spit onto the crack of your ass, saliva sliding down and coating your rim.

You try to turn around but Jake pulls you back into a harsh kiss, tongue massaging your own and pulling whines from your throat. He distracts you enough for you to forget about Sunghoon again, while he gently prods his tip at your entrance. “Hoon! What are you- ah!” You’re cut off as he easily slides in, the new sensation knocking your breath out of you.

“Ever take it in the ass, baby?” He leans down to peck your cheek, slowly inching himself in with each thrust. Once he’s fully inside, he pulls back out to the tip just to slam himself back inside. Jake takes this as the green light to also thrust into you again, bucking his hips up at the same pace as Sunghoon.

If you thought you were in heaven earlier, you wouldn’t know what to call this. This act of whatever love or lust this is. Perhaps it was just your friends’ way of declaring their love for you. Or, just trying to prove how a man should treat you, how he should fuck you. You can’t complain though, having both holes filled by big, girthy cocks is something you thought you could only dream of.

And as Jake sensually sucks on your lower lip, and Sunghoon is leaving dark hickeys on your neck, you think you might be in love. With both of them.

One particular thrust from Sunghoon has him throwing you foward and onto Jake’s chest, crying out in pleasure while his grip on your hips is painful. He leans down, keeping one hand on your hip as the other arm is crossing your chest, catching your neck between his forearm and bicep, puling you back up to kneeling with Jake still inside of your cunt.

With your back pressed to Sunghoon’s chest and his length deep inside your ass, you bounce harder, faster, both of them filling you so pleasurably you cry out, tears falling from your eyes as you scream with a horse voice. “Fuck- God, yes! I’m c-cumming!” You go silent with your jaw slack as your orgasm washes over you, every inch of your body tingling as you clench impossibly tight on both of them, with just the sound of light splashing and skin slapping keeping you conscious.

Your eyes are closed but you can feel the way Jake stops thrusting, filling you with his thick warm liquid and Sunghoon soon follows, releasing himself into your hole enough to have it dripping past your rim and back onto himself.

You collapse onto your butt next to Jake, noticing the large wet spot left on the bed covers. “Did…did I do that?” You ask shyly, blushing as Sunghoon nods and kneels next to you, pulling you to lay down with him and spooning you while you wrap one arm around Jake’s abdomen.

You feel like you’ve truly ascended, as if this is the universe’s way of rewarding you for every good deed you’ve committed. Having two warm men holding onto you, kissing you, loving you like you deserve. You’d take this any day, even if it’s with your best friends.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #park sunghoon smut #sim jaeyun smut #sunghoon smut #jake smut

2K notes · View notes

norrizzandpia · 2 months

Note

Heyo! I’m totally obsessed with your writing at the moment, can’t put my phone down! Have you seen the video of Mila watching Lando on tv and calling him “lala”? Was wondering if you could write a fic with that in it?

I have had an idea for this specific video sitting in my head FOR AGES

Lala (LN4)

Summary: When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

Warnings: none

“Baby, one more thing before we go in.” Lando murmured from beside his girlfriend. His hand in wrapped in hers and she fidgeted with his fingers, nervous for the moments that were about to ensue.

Her head tilted up to look at him, “Yeah?”

A small smile graced his face and his eyes softened as he began, “My niece, Mila, likes to stick by me whenever I’m around. I don’t know how much time we’ll get alone during the next few hours.”

Y/n giggled, “Lan, that’s fine. That’s sweet anyway, means you’re good with kids.”

She whispered the last part, eyeing him suspiciously before he whispered an i love you and kissed her temple. His hand knocked against the slab of wood in front of them, anxiety heightening as Y/n began to hear footsteps approaching.

Cisca appeared, bright face and warmness to her that made Y/n feel immediately welcomed.

“Oh, how nice it is to meet you! Lando never stops talking about you!” She yelled, throwing her arms around the girl and rubbing her back lovingly.

Lando blushed as Y/n laughed, “What? There’s a lot to brag about.”

Y/n leaned into him, hand wrapped around his arm as they stepped through the threshold, “That’s sweet, Lando.”

“You’re swee-” He began, but is interrupted by the rapid beatings of little footsteps. His brother and his sister-in-law followed close behind the little girl who rounded the corner with loud giggles.

“Lala!! Lalalala!!” She screeched, arms open as she made grabby hands at Lando from her stance in front of him. Y/n’s brain began catching up with the moment, the nickname sinking in and her heart warming at the sentiment.

Lando picked Mila up, kissing her cheeks and tickling her sides lightly as he laughed with her. The image is something Y/n never wants to forget, Lando in his true element with his favorite people.

Oliver and Savannah stop, looking lovingly at Lando and their daughter, before turning their attention to his girlfriend, “Hi, it’s so great to finally meet you!”

Y/n is still entranced by the feelings stirring in her tummy to genuinely put all her thoughts into a conversation between the couple, “It’s nice to meet you as well!”

A beat passes before Y/n asks, “Did she just call Lando Lala?”

Oliver chuckles, “Yeah. She can’t pronounce his name, so it’s always been Lala.”

Lando meets Y/n’s eye, a twinkle in them he had never seen before, “Cute, right?”

Y/n’s jaw drops, “Cute? Oh my god, it’s adorable!”

The four laugh together before Savannah steals Mila away, whines emitting from the little girl in the wake of being removed from Lando’s arms. Alone in the foyer, Lando turns to Y/n, “She made me realize I think I could do the whole dad thing.”

Y/n grins, “At this point, after witnessing that, I’m going to need you to do the whole dad thing.”

Lando throws his head back as he laughs. Pulling her into him by the waist and kissing her forehead, “Yeah? Kids? A year into our relationship?”

She smacks his chest, “Not now, love. But… in a few years…” She fixes the buttons on his shirt, “Probably.”

His hand over one side of her face, Lando kisses her hair forcefully, “Good. I love you too much not to experience that with you.”

Infamous giggling returns and Savannah yelling for Mila creates new chaos as the girl rounds the same corner once more, waddling quickly to her favorite uncle. When she gets to him, Lando is already waiting, knelt down, for her with his arms outstretched.

“Lala!” She screams again and Y/n is almost ready to tell Lando she wants one now.

Lando’s arms smother Mila as he kisses her head, shaking his head at Savannah when she tries to take her child.

“I got her, it’s fine.” He says, standing up once more.

Savannah tilts her head, “You sure?”

Lando nods softly with a smile, feeling Mila rest her head on his shoulder, “Yeah, I only get to see her so often anyway.”

Savannah shrugs, leaving the room. Lando moves to get to the living room where the rest of his family is, but Y/n stops him for a moment.

Mila’s eyes are closing, Y/n can see, so she speaks in a whisper, “Thank you for letting me meet your family. I love seeing you like this, Lan.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Seeing me like what?”

She kisses the side of his mouth, careful of the sleeping girl in his arms, “Just seeing you right where you belong. Where you’re most comfortable. This is your home, I’m just happy you’re letting me into it.”

Lando coos, “Baby, you are very quickly becoming my home.”

1K notes · View notes

murdrdocs · 3 months

Text

FOOLISH LOVERS. luke castellan

description. luke castellan has betrayed camp half blood. luke castellan has made an enemy out of those around you. and unfortunately, luke castellan has always held a place in your heart that you can't close off. at least, not until you meet with him one final time.

includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, daughter of hypnos reader, oral (f and m receiving), brief anal rimming (f receiving), implied p n v, dreamscape sex again, angst galore, some arguing, references to pjo ep 8. inspo from wicked game by chris isaak

wc: 5.8k+

a/n: a dreamcatcher: daughter of the god of dreams installment.

Before you can realize the change, you’re standing on a hill.

It takes you a second to notice, but the area is much like your dreamscape. Low, waving blades of grass that travel through the air with the wind brushing against your bare ankles. The ocean is loud and to your right, down beneath a steep cliff. From just a quick glance, you see a storm brewing off into the distance. The water swirls angrily as if it’s ready to disrupt anything that dares to come into its path.

You can’t help but think about the betrayed son of the sea god back in reality who surely feels the same.

When you take your eyes away from the entrancing scenery of the ocean, you notice a cabin directly in front of you. It’s small, and made from long wooden logs, although there isn’t a forest nearby to identify the source of the frame. The exterior is slightly shabby, appearing manmade with a few imperfections.

It’s not on a comparable scale to the cabins back at Camp Half-Blood, but something about it feels cozy. It gives implications of a simpler life. Maybe what summer camp could have been if you weren’t the offspring of a god.

That and the clouds rumbling with warnings of an approaching storm is what encourages you to seek refuge in the four walls.

Step by step, you don’t fail to notice how a focus subject has yet to appear.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and you push the slab of wood open as you wonder who’s dream you could have been pulled into tonight.

You haven’t even stepped foot over the threshold, you have started to convince yourself that this is the dream of the son of the sea god, and then someone speaks.

“Hey.”

You stop.

Your foot hovers for a second before you place it back beside the other.

That voice. You hadn’t heard it for months now, but you know it. Day after day, you lay at night with your eyes closed, cementing the memory of the way he spoke and how he sounded as he laughed at your jokes into your mind. Forcing yourself to recall the inflections in his tone as he teased you, and how his words flattened out and got hard when he gave orders to yourself and others. And then, completely involuntarily, you would force yourself to pick through every single intonation and word that you could remember, attempting to find signs. Any hints or clues that Luke Castellan wasn’t the person he made himself out to be.

Each night, you grapple with the fact that you couldn’t find any clues. You tried to reconcile with your blindness, all while telling yourself that you could have attempted to prevent it all.

But hearing his voice now, none of that returns. Unexpectedly, your body floods with warmth.

Luke sits on a small loveseat. The shape of it is a bit of a blur at first, but you blink and it cleans up to present a busy patterned textile couch. It’s well loved, there are a few tears in the bottom of the fabric at the back, and if you’re smelling it correctly, there’s a slight waft of cigarette smoke.

Strangely enough, it’s inviting.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but the boy sitting at one end of it makes it even more inviting.

You step into the cabin and close the door behind you.

“Hey, Luke.”

He turns around to face you at the sound of your voice. You sound stronger than you expected. More casual, too.

You realize that he’d been looking out a large set of windows before facing you. There’s only two but they take up most of the small wall. Outside is a perfect view of the land you’d just come from; bright green grass in the foreground and deep blue salt water off into the distance.

Luke stares at you.

The cabin is a little dark—there’s a lamp in the far corner that illuminates the room, washing out the otherwise blue light from outside—but you think his eyes are shining. As if there’s unshed tears barely held within them.

He smiles at you. It’s soft and almost mournful.

You should leave.

You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Luke at all, even if it is within a dreamscape. You couldn’t trust yourself in a room with him, especially with the things the two of you used to do when you were in dreamscapes alone.

Just looking at him reminds you of all of those times. Sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. The feeling of his muscles beneath your inquisitive hands. The deep and smooth sound of his voice. The way everything felt so real and so tangible as he rocked into you, and then as euphoria swept over your bodies you felt so infinite and surreal.

Your teeth find your lower lip. Your body urges you to get closer to Luke. Stubbornly, you stay in your spot.

“What d’you think?” He lifts a finger and circles it around in the air. Your eyes lift and you finally take in the rest of the cabin.

The main room is spacious, but comfortable. Lightly furnished with hardwood floors. Though almost every surface is covered in some sort of rug, most of them persian. There’s a small kitchen to your left, and then the living area that Luke sits in on the right. There’s a few bookshelves but there aren’t many books on them, and there’s a fireplace that looks to have never been used before. A few picture frames sit on the mantle of the fireplace, but from afar they just appear to be showcasing blobs of people without any distinctive features to identify an identity.

Admittedly, for this to be the created dreamscape of the son of a messenger, it’s impressive.

You tell him as such.

This time, Luke’s smile is appreciative.

“Means a lot coming from you. Especially with the things you can create.”

Your skin heats up and you block the memories out of your head before they can firmly cement themselves once more.

“You might have me beat, Castellan. Giving me a run for my money.”

You don’t know why you decide to fall into the old routine with him. Maybe it’s because you can’t push Luke away for the life of you. He was once your friend and so much more at the same time. It’s impossible for you to completely forget the times you shared together.

Maybe it’s the home making you feel this way.

How comfortable it feels. How protective it is.

You’ve spent weeks pulled into unfortunate dreams. Nightmares have plagued even the toughest minds of Camp Half Blood as of late, and you’ve been unable to fortify your own mind enough to prevent slipping into the mind of others. Which has left you to fight against unbeatable monsters, fortify the barriers of Camp only to have them knocked down by Zeus over and over again, watch those you love die in horrible battles, and much much more.

In comparison, there is the possibility of a simple conversation with Luke Castellan giving you what you’d been desperately missing even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself: Luke’s company.

It’s how you reason with yourself whenever you take a seat atop the cushion of the couch. Instantly, it feels as if you’ve never truly known comfort before. This couch conforms to the curves of your body. You lean back against it, pull your feet up with you, and you quickly decide to stay a little while longer.

Up close, Luke looks even prettier than you remember. Dark curly hair a little more grown out, unruly and hanging over his forehead like low hanging fruit, begging for you to latch onto it. His face looks a little slimmer as if he’s lost weight, and the angular planes of his cheekbones and jawline accentuates the dark shadow he has along his chin. The mark of facial hair that was previously present. Beneath his clothes—a faded black, almost gray hoodie, and black sweatpants—he appears larger. His shoulders wider, his neck thicker, his wrist and hands veiner.

(Compared to his covered body, you feel bare in nothing but long socks, and a matching shorts and tank top set.)

He looks virtually the same, but his aura is different. There’s more confidence in him, a larger ego, glory even, that wasn’t there the last time you’d seen him. You know what has caused the change, and it should be something you despise. But his new glory makes him more attractive. It dries out your tongue and lodges something in your throat, pushing it further down until it sits heavy in your stomach.

“Thought this could be our new spot.” Luke speaks softly, almost in a scared whisper, as if he fears that you’ll reject him.

(You don’t know if you could ever reject Luke)

Your eyebrows furrow. “Our spot?” Confusion drips off of your words.

Luke nods once. He licks over his lips and you’re quick to peel your eyes away from the sight and back to his eyes. That’s not helping you much either so you instead try to figure out what books are on the shelves afar.

Since the little amount of time that has passed, there have been a few more added. From the ones that have already been there, the titles are too far away, too dream disoriented, and your dyslexia hasn’t escaped this dream, but you think you find novels on Seeing. Guides on how to decipher the visions that come to humans, or how to channel them.

You focus back on Luke.

“Yeah. Like the old bedroom. But a little more …” he hesitates to find the word then lands on, “Casual.”

The bedroom.

Your lower stomach stirs at the mention of it. The large bed, how warm it always was in there, the cold leather of the couch, the things the two of you did to each other on all surfaces.

This spot is definitely a lot more casual. You’re not instantly compelled to straddle Luke here, although you do have a few thoughts about throwing your legs over his right now and reconnecting in ways you’ve missed since he left.

So badly do you want to agree. This could be the one place where you get to experience what you’ve been missing without anyone else knowing. This is the only place where you can see Luke without anyone else knowing.

But it’s wrong.

He’s the cause of all of this. He’s caused the nightmares you’ve been pulled into. He has betrayed everyone on levels you could have never imagined. And who’s to say that he won’t betray you again.

“We won’t need a ‘spot’, Luke.” Briefly, his eyes flash as if he’s hurt but in your eyes, Luke has proven himself to be a formidable actor as of late so you ignore it. “This is a one time thing.”

A moment passes. And then another.

You turn to watch the sea out in the distance. It appears as if the ocean has lulled for the time being. The sky is still dark, but it has yet to deepen in color.

Luke takes a breath and you give him your attention again.

“Why won’t you join me?”

His eyes flash betrayal, his lips twist into something sorrowful.

Your answer comes easy. The same one you’ve told yourself over and over again, night by night when you considered reaching out to him.

“Because it’s not right, Luke.”

When he stands, his newfound power becomes even more clear. It leaks from his pores, spews from his mouth with his words.

“How could it be ‘wrong’ when you feel the same. All that time you spent telling me about your father. How neglected you felt. What happened to that?”

Your head shakes. You stand, too, evening out the field for both of you.

“This is not what I meant. I–” The words don’t find you. Luke takes notice.

“You what? Love your father? Love the gods? After how they treat you. How they treat us.”

“Don’t say ‘us’. We aren’t together, Luke.”

That same look flashes in his eyes once more. He takes a step forward, you take one back.

He doesn’t say anything. You watch his hand reach behind his back.

“What, are you gonna fight me like you did with Percy?”

His head shakes. His eyes harden. He pulls his hand back and it comes up empty.

“He attacked first.”

Your voice starts to rise. “And you tried to kill him, Luke. He’s twelve. What don’t you understand about that? ”

“Twelve and a forbidden child. In the grand scheme of things, his age doesn’t matter. He’s powerful. More powerful than both of us combined.”

“So is that why you tried to kill him? Because he’s a threat?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not here. Not now.”

“Yeah? Well then when? And where? Because this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, Luke.”

“Okay.”

Your eyebrows raise. Disbelief paints over your features. You’d expected more of a fight. For Luke to disagree or attempt to convince you to return to him a few more times after this. Maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe you wanted him to convince you that you needed him. Maybe you wanted to hear him tell you that he needed you.

Either way, your reply is the same as his.

“Okay.” You turn and take the few steps it takes to get to the door.

Your chest heaves with large gulps of air in and small breaths of letting them out. Your body is buzzing, the same feeling you would get before sparring with Luke. The same feeling you would get before your bodies joined together.

You tell yourself to reach out for the door handle. You tell yourself to lift your arm, connect your hand with the metal, and pull it open. You tell yourself to return to your own dreamscape, maybe even reality, and forget any of this ever happened.

Maybe you would’ve done it if Luke hadn’t spoken.

“You can walk out that door but that won’t change how you truly feel.”

He doesn’t add on. You don’t move.

“And how do I feel?”

The adrenaline is overwhelming you. You need to expel it out of your body somehow.

As Luke is speaking, you’re already approaching him.

“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that for you.”

When he speaks, it’s with arrogance. His confidence is heavily laced in his words, overflowing until it drips out into the air and lodges in your chest. Running through your body and down to your fingertips. It annoys you, makes you want to battle it out with him in a fight you’re sure to lose.

Your feet thud against the floor with each step until you’re close enough to cup his cheeks in both of your hands and pull his face down to yours.

There’s no hesitation in the kiss from either side. As if both of you were expecting it to happen eventually.

Luke kisses you back vehemently, his lips messily sliding against yours as he presses into the center of your back, accentuating the curve and drawing your chest into his. His free hand glides down your side to your hips. He circles to your back, dragging his palm down to rest over the curve of your ass. He grips the flesh through the soft fabric of your shorts, digging his blunt nails in before continuing his hand—open palmed—down to grip the back of your thigh.

His other hand mirrors his previous actions until he has a hand on either thigh. He tugs once, and you collaborate to wrap your legs around his waist and hook your ankles behind his back. Your hands dig into his hair, and your core tightens as you prepare to continue holding yourself up. But Luke takes most of the load.

He places his hands on your bottom to keep you lifted. You expect him to walk you back to the couch, or maybe pin you to a wall. But he doesn’t.

He holds you against him in the center of the living room, kissing you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. You don’t fail to realize how he likely won’t.

His tongue slides against yours, your teeth knock together at least twice, both of you refuse to pull away to breathe which results in heavy exhales through your noses against the skin of the other cheek.

While it may be uncoordinated, it’s not primal.

There’s copious amounts of longing beneath each pass of your tongues against each other. There’s human emotion behind the way you tug on his hair and how he uses one hand to pull your hips closer to him. There’s raw longing in the soft sighs and gasps you both let out into the other’s mouth, taking it in and replicating the noises over and over again.

When you finally do part, it’s with a wet, pronounced smack.

“Luke,” you gasp his name before you can realize it’s happening. One of your hands moves from his hair to hold his cheek. Your fingers spread around his ear and your thumb probes into his jaw.

He hums, his eyes still shut.

“I want you,” you admit.

You watch the smile spread across his lips, his eyes flickering open to look into your soul.

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

You suck your teeth and roll your eyes. Your other hand, previously resting on his shoulder, slaps his bicep.

“Don’t be an asshole about it.”

He laughs as he apologizes, knocking his forehead against yours. “Sorry, pretty girl.”

He takes a moment.

When he speaks, his eyes are nothing but earnest. His words are slow and careful, despite how simple they are. They fill your chest with warmth. They comfort you, possibly in slight delusion as you instantly believe him without caring about what repercussions his promise could come with.

“You have me. Always have. Always will.”

You’re quick to surge forward.

Luke is quick to reciprocate.

This time, he walks you back to the couch. He settles you on it carefully, not lifting his hands from your bottom until you’re seated securely along the loveseat and pulled to the edge by his hands hooked under your knees.

His own knees dig into the rug beneath the furniture. His head is tipped up to continue kissing you, this one lacking the over enthusiasm from before. Now, he takes his time, having confessed his desire to be with you as long as you’ll let him.

It’s not long until he pulls away and trails his lips down, kissing along your decollete, not stopping when he comes in contact with the fabric of your small shirt. He presses his lips into the fabric firmly, as if he’s trying to reach your skin beneath the layer.

You feel the pressure he has beneath each kiss as he trails down, and you arch into his touch, excitement spreading through your lower half whenever Luke digs his fingers into the elastic of your shorts and pulls them off of your legs before he even reaches there.

You’re quick to leave your legs open, even going as far as to spread them a little more to give Luke more room.

His wide shoulders fill the space. They nudge against your knees and instead of letting you spread your legs even more, he throws them over his shoulders, effectively caging himself in with your limbs.

If the small smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s happy about his position.

You’re still wearing your panties. Your hands trail down to get rid of them, but Luke stops you with a hand on your lower abdomen.

“Let me,” he tells you, voice soft and light.

You remove your hands and do as told. It’s a simple system you have worked out, Luke slowly but surely working his way down to where you want him. He's eager, and you know he wants himself there as much as you do.

It’s strange what desire could make you do.

You’ve never been anything but loyal to Camp Half-Blood. To both of your parents. And in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do this.

But you’ll simply have a final time with Luke. That’s it. Sharing your body with him, and having his body shared with you, won’t make you forget his transgressions.

As your panties are pulled off of your legs, and your skin is once again placed above the thick fabric on the shoulders of his sweatshirt, you tell yourself that this won’t change anything.

You’ll never be able to forget what he has done. What he’s planning to do.

Except, perhaps, you can push it aside for as long as you’ll have to while you let yourself get lost in his touch.

The first pass of his tongue is a long stripe between your folds. He spreads you open with his thumbs, pulling at the skin on either side to expose your center. Then he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your clit.

He puckers his lips, sucking twice before flicking his tongue against the bud.

Your hands card through his hair, ignoring the way your fingers get stuck on a few stubborn curls that refuse to separate in favor of grounding yourself. It feels too good, and you haven’t been in this position for too long. There’s nothing you fear more right now than getting too lost and waking up in the real world before you’re even satisfied.

Luke brings his attention back down to your entrance where he laps up what you’ve been leaking. He groans, peeling his mouth away and you stare down at him, entranced by how grateful he looks.

Eyes closed, face completely relaxed, his scar laid flat against his cheek, his pink lips parted and glistening.

He looks ethereal. The sight is addicting.

“Missed this so much,” he admits, tongue flickering out to lick the remnants of your arousal off of his lips.

You feel the same, but you refuse to tell him that. Instead, you scrape your nails at his scalp lightly and shuffle your hips, hoping that alone is enough to capture Luke’s attention again.

Either he catches the memo or he had the same idea as you because his lips are right back between your legs.

You’d expected him to behave like a man starved, licking and sucking your cunt like you would disappear any moment. Instead, he takes his time with you. He utilizes the best part about being in a dreamscape: the lack of concrete time.

He savors the taste of your cunt, and the little sounds you make. His fingers press into the tops of your thighs as he holds them down against his shoulders to prevent you from squirming. His nose nudges against your clit and digs into the short hair you have on your mound.

He presses his tongue everywhere that he can, sometimes even sliding further down to rim areas still unexplored. Each time, you would tense up just a little less, until eventually you were trying to subtly urge his head further down for him to do it just one more time.

And when he does, that’s when the coil in your lower belly gets as tight as it could get, just before snapping from the tension. You would have warned him. Or, maybe you did. You were so focused on getting there that any words that came out of your mouth weren’t even considered. You weren’t aware of anything other than your mouth moving at the same speed as your hips as you dragged your cunt against Luke’s face, using him to guide your orgasm to full completion.

As soon as your hips stop twitching you swing your legs off of his shoulders and slide to the floor beside him. You pull your shirt off, then do the same for Luke, throwing both of your tops off to the side.

Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing another layer beneath the sweatshirt, allowing you to run your palms down his chest, feeling the familiar definition along his abdomen.

You sit in front of him with your legs folded underneath you, and since he’s on his haunches, he towers over you just a bit. You have to tilt your head up to kiss at his jaw and neck, your hands busying themselves with urging his sweatpants off of his hips.

Luke does the rest of the job for you, hesitantly pulling away from your touch to stand and slide his sweatpants off of his legs himself. You’re left on the ground, hands politely resting in your lap while you stare up at Luke with wide eyes.

He slowly reveals more and more of his legs until he’s wearing nothing but his briefs. They hug him well, like they always have. A prominent outline of the muscle definition in his thighs, elastic waistband hanging low enough on his hips for you to see the ‘V’ that connects his hips and abdomen. And of course, the tight material reveals the prominent boner confined within the crotch of his briefs.

You want to reach up and palm him. You want to pull the final layer off of him. You want to take his cock into your mouth and relax with the heavy and warm feeling of him against your tongue.

But you decide to be patient. And it’s worth it.

Luke slides his briefs off himself, never breaking eye contact with you as he throws them to join the rest of your clothing. His stare is strong and heavy as he spits into his hand and puts his dick into the same place, wrapping his palm around the center of it and stroking a few times.

There’s the prettiest, most picturesque bead of precum at the tip and you’re practically salivating just looking at it, praying deep down that Luke doesn’t run his hand over it so you can have it for yourself.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Luke takes a step closer, holding the base of his cock right in front of your face, allowing you to get the perfect view of how his tip is a light pink around the almost clear drop of precum.

“You want?” he asks you simply, smiling a bit when you nod eagerly. “Then open.”

You’re quick to do as told, lacking any shame whenever you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. As soon as Luke presses his tip to your muscle, you wrap your lips around him and eagerly suck him clean.

Another good thing about the dreamscape is that everything either tastes like absolutely nothing, or like pure honey. And when you’re with Luke, things are usually the latter.

You start to get lost in it, enthusiastically beginning to suck Luke off even though you were only meant to be getting a taste.

You can see that Luke is close to commenting on it. His eyes shine like they do before he has something to say, but just when his lips part and he takes a breath to speak, you hollow your cheeks and sink as far down him as you can and any words he could have conjured up are suddenly gone.

He lets you do what you want, eyes fluttering shut and one large hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to suck him off. He lets out the smallest noises, pretty grunts and groans and sighs.

Luke was clearly just as wound up as you were. Within a couple of minutes he’s already starting to spew out praises like he does when he’s close. Some of them are fragments, broken words strung together in incomplete sentences.

“So … doing so .. you’re–” when you swirl your tongue at the tip and tease his balls just a bit.

“Gods, you’re so good at this,” when you jerk the majority of his dick with one hand and focus your mouth on his tip with the other.

“Close. So close. Almost there, dove” when you take all of him into your mouth once more, throat molding around the definite shape of him.

And when he cums down your throat, you’re so satisfied that you can’t help but moan unabashedly along with him.

You’ve only just swallowed his cum before his cock is pulled out of your mouth and he’s back on his knees in front of you.

His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you into his lap, laying his head on your chest and just letting himself be.

Just existing.

After a couple of minutes, you stop expecting him to speak and decide to just exist too. Your breathing eventually matches up, in and out, in and out, over and over again in tandem. Outside, rain starts to thud against the roof of the small home. Distantly, there’s the faint sound of thunder, and you’re sure the ocean is swirling angrily.

None of that matters, though. You’ll be left to decipher the metaphorical meanings of it all later, when you aren’t coexisting in the shared warmth from you and Luke.

When he isn’t kissing the tops of your breasts and holding you securely in his arms.

Eventually, Luke does break the silence. His voice is low when he does, both in volume and tone.

“Can I have you? Just one final time?”

He talks into your skin without looking directly at you. But as you start to respond, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you.

The entire time, you’ve been fighting this battle. Knowing you wanted Luke, knowing you wanted to be with Luke, but also knowing it was wrong. All of it was wrong.

But right here, right now, you let go. You nod unashamedly. You kiss his forehead then the tip of his nose then his lips, before landing on the bottom end of his scar.

You tell him, “Yes. Of course, Luke”, as if he didn’t even have to ask in the first place.

And truthfully, you don’t think he did.

‎

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Luke is in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt back over his head when you speak. There’s a second where the fabric is hiding his face, slowly revealing the curls at the top of his head, then his dark eyebrows, and finally his eyes. They look as they have the entire time: despondent.

“I know you didn’t. Neither did I.” You have a feeling that neither of you are speaking about the same specific thing, but the overlap in your conditions is so wide that you don’t bother correcting him.

He reaches behind his back once more and when he pulls his hand back around, he has his camp necklace dangling from his fingers. He undoes the knot, and holds it open, waiting, until finally you turn around and let him delicately tie it around your neck.

Your hand touches the beads. You want to thank him, but it doesn’t feel right.

Instead, your lips twist into what you hope comes off as a thankful smile when you turn around. When Luke replicates it, you feel a little better.

There’s a moment, just a brief moment there where you’re both staring at each other and the memory of Luke’s hands and lips and tongue and his everything engrossing you, taking your everything and combining them together, is still fresh on your mind. The warmth of his eyes and the warmth of his camp necklace around your throat heals you. And you consider that your feelings for Luke were stronger than you ever forced yourself to acknowledge.

He was more than a close friend to you. More than someone you looked up to. More than someone you shared your body with in the dreamscape.

He was more.

It feels unfair for you to have these emotions. The wrongness of it all—your feelings for Luke Castellan, how he’d turned out—has rage fueling deep in your gut. With no one else to blame it on, you can’t help but briefly curse the gods.

For they were the ones to cause this. To instill deep hatred into Luke’s chest. To prevent either of you from ever having a normal life where you could live and breathe and love without the burdens placed upon you both.

A life where you wouldn’t have to love and lose someone like Luke.

But there’s nothing for you to do about it now.

You don’t want to leave. But your time together is up. You should’ve left a long time ago, and your choice to stay before resulted in something you could never take back.

You turn and walk to the door. And once more, Luke speaking causes you to stop.

“You are the only one who could make me change my mind.” He says it in a small whisper, as if he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself. As if he shouldn’t be admitting it at all.

‘Are’. His feelings for you still haven’t changed. You don’t know if they ever will.

Either way, you’re forced to change yours.

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. Your hand reaches for the doorknob. You take it in your palm, gripping and turning at the same time until the latch is undone.

The door opens and fills the room with the sound of rain falling. It’s loud and fills the empty space. Up until Luke speaks and the baritone of his voice joins it.

“This is it?”

You nod once. Luke’s scoff sounds painful. It’s bitter with an edge of hatred. Maybe disbelief.

It makes tears brim at your eyes. Your nose stings. Your throat feels as if it’s constricting with the effort to hold your tears back.

Luke takes a breath. You step one foot out of the door.

“Dreamcatcher,” he calls to get your attention, the nickname giving you that fuzzy feeling you used to get from just seeing him around camp. “We’ll be seeing each other again.”

And then your foot lands on the dry green grass of your own dreamscape.

Just a few hours later, you rise with the morning sun, sneaking off to the showers before everyone else to get rid of the stickiness between your thighs.

The dream might not have been real, but the evidence between your legs certainly was. Strangely enough, that and the additional chord of beads around your neck. You only notice it when you’ve undressed and stepped beneath the shower head, scrubbing at your skin and running into additional jewelry you hadn’t expected to have been there.

You take it off and slip it with the rest of your clothes as a keepsake, carrying it around in your pocket for only you to know about.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo

3K notes · View notes

kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months

Text

no vacancy | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room.

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off.

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not.

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night.

That is, until you opened the door.

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said.

“Sure looks that way.”

"At least it's a queen?"

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time.

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began.

"I mean, I guess I don't really–"

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–"

"–mind as long as you–"

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement.

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be.

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window.

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.”

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.”

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team.

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it.

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep.

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still.

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke.

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind.

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers.

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right.

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that.

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again.

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you.

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together.

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell.

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal.

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot.

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation.

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.”

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him.

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Sorry,” you managed.

“For what?”

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.”

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.”

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further.

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.”

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!”

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.”

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.”

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.”

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him.

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat.

“You just said ass.”

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.”

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.”

“I knew you’d agree.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed.

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting.

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed.

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep.

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what?

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black.

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?!

“Hey, you okay?”

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.”

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well.

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.”

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand.

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated.

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way.

“You were on my pillow, by the way.”

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him.

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.”

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again.

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back.

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest.

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious.

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing.

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?”

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.”

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer.

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.”

“Don’t profile me.”

“I’m not. I just know you.”

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.”

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.”

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.”

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.”

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip.

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.”

“I told you to stop profiling me.”

This time, he just hummed in response.

“And so what if I stuttered?”

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.”

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list.

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–”

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed.

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

“That all makes total sense.”

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved.

“Now tell me the rest of it.”

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well.

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and–

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream.

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent.

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing.

“Yes.”

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word.

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it.

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry.

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–”

“It is.”

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.”

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.”

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back.

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you.

“So what does that mean for us now?�� you asked.

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.”

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.”

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed.

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.”

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?”

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.”

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.”

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.”

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.”

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you.

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed.

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside.

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again.

“Okay, was it just me, or–”

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?”

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless.

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.”

“Well, you kissed me.”

“I did.”

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed.

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.”

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.”

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.”

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist.

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it.

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.”

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer.

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages.

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.”

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.”

“You’re such an ass.”

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up.

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you.

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker.

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left.

You text back: okay?

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night.

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face.

You: what did u say?

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first.

You: i think u should say yes, obviously.

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded.

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success.

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you.

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;)

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh.

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask.

Shit.

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat.

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you?

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate??

Spencer: Yes

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace.

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn.

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth.

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed.

#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it #spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #my fics

2K notes · View notes

anime-schmuck · 2 months

Text

Thinking about going to the gym with Simon “Ghost” Riley. Simon teased you last week for how weak your arms were so you’re determined to show him up on legs today.

Of course, Simon being Simon, built like a six foot three tank, still manages to lift more than you. He pushes you on every machine you use, hitting more new pb’s after one session with him than weeks of working yourself.

It’s specifically when he’s watching you do squats that he concocts his brilliant, evil plan.

Once you’re legs are officially dead you two head back to your shared flat, Simon’s big hand switching between the gearstick and your thigh the drive back.

Finally, the second you’re through the threshold of the door, Simon hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. He doesn’t say a work as you wriggle around questioning him, until he tosses you carefully onto the mattress with a half lidded gaze. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts, watching you panting and sweating like ye do when ye struggle to take my cock.” He groans, palming the bulge in his grey sweats, lips quirking into a smirk when your breath hitches.

He crawls over you, who obediently spreads your legs for him, but he tuts. “Nah, don’t think you pushed yourself hard enough.” He grins, and in a split second he’s on his back and your straddling his lap, thick fingers giving your waist a squeeze before he settles his hands behind his head. “Go on, ride me love. Since yer legs are so strong, you shouldn’t have a problem, right?” He quirks an eyebrow, knowing you’ll take the bait.

His words cause your lips to jut out in a pout, brow furrowing in determination. You fiddled your way out of your clothes, pulling his sweats and boxers down to free his hard cock, twitching as the cold air hit it. Simon swallowed thickly, grunting when your soft hand wrapped around him to position him at your entrance.

He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling how wet you were as you sucked his tip in, pausing with a whine. He chuckled, trying to hide how affected he really was. “Too much, love?” His smirk widened further when you shot him a glare, thighs trembling, burning as you continued to lower yourself on his dick.

Simon was big, in every way possible, so it took you a minute before you took him fully. Simon’s groaned, hands finding the fat of your hips now he was buried deep inside you. “Fuck, that’s it love, takin’ every inch. Such a good girl.” His voice was strained, raspy as he struggled to hold back the urge to bounce you on his cock like a fleshlight.

The praise went straight to your core, clenching tighter around his dick with a whine. The combination of Simon pressing against all the right spots inside you, paired with your aching legs rendered you as close to immobilised as a person can get. Your eyes found his, needy and desperate. “P-please Si’.. can’t do it..” Your hands clawed at his muscular chest, feeling his hands tightening their hold in your hips.

“Yeah? What’d you need me to do, pretty?” He sat up, burly arms encircling you, caging you to his chest as his lips found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouther kisses along the sensitive skin. “C’mon love, please what?”

He knew what he was doing, turning your brain to mush, but god the way your teary eyes stared at him so pleadingly caused his cock to twitch inside your gummy walls. Some sadistic side of him loved seeing the physical evidence of you needing him in such a visceral way, which was why he had to be a little bit mean earlier.

“Please fuck me Si’..” You finally managed, and within a second you were once again on your back, Simon’s big hands hooking under your knees to force them back into a mating press, cooing when you whined at the stretch.

His cock slid back inside your needy hole, grinning as he watched it stretch to accommodate him. He chuckled, bringing a thumb to swipe at your clit just to see you jolt at the pleasure.

“Thought you’d never ask. Just lie back and take it for me, yeah?”

#ghost smut #ghost x reader #schmuck thoughts #ghost cod #cod smut #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon fic #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #drabble #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

pellucid-constellations · 3 months

Text

If It All Fell (5)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, PINING, references to nonconsensual situations (very brief, nothing graphic, and not Az)

a/n: Hope this clears some stuff up ;) More to come and especially more Az to come. Thank you forever for reading and sharing your thoughts! This is getting me through the semester <3

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼

Series Masterlist

Azriel walked you to your room.

He knew exactly where to go, which corners to turn and which to pass, which was very convenient as you still found yourself struggling with the task. The House of Wind, as everyone so lovingly called it, was practically a maze for someone with no memory of its twists and turns. But Azriel had absolutely no trouble getting you to your room.

Once you got to your room, however, he appeared to have many troubles.

“You can come in,” you prompted, looking over your shoulder to find the shadowsinger with his shoes at the threshold. “I promise I just cleaned it. Or, at least I’m pretty sure I cleaned it. It’s hard to know where to put things when I only just started…”

Your voice trailed off. Upon further inspection of the man standing just outside your door, you found that he didn’t simply look hesitant to enter. He had his hands pressed to the doorframe, his head slightly leaned into the room, and his eyes were slowly trailing along your belongings. The expression on his face read as forlorn, but his body read as tense.

He had been here before, obviously. Of course this would be hard for him. You probably had everything in the wrong place and he had just told you about the difficult time he was having—how close the two of you had been before you lost everything.

“Um,” you began, pressing your lips together tightly when his gaze flickered to you. “Maybe you could… or would you mind maybe telling me where my bags are? If you know. Mor gave me a surface-level tour, but she didn’t seem to know everything.”

Azriel looked down to the ground beneath your feet. He blinked back up to meet your eyes. “Of course,” he replied, with so much practiced restraint in his tone you weren’t sure how he gritted out the words.

When he stepped in the room, it felt as if something shifted. He walked between tables and furniture and he fit like a puzzle, his wings never brushing anything, his eyes never casting down to analyze his body in the space. He looked like he belonged—he looked like he completed the space.

Something finally felt right.

Nothing felt right… but this did.

Azriel pushed open the closet doors, rifling through a cabinet you had only glanced at before. After a few silent moments, he walked out with bags in hand. His shadows hadn’t followed him. They drifted towards the bed instead, burrowing into the blankets and pillows until the plush surface became dark.

Azriel zeroed in on them as he placed the bags by your feet, staring off at his shadows as you brought your attention back to him. This close, you were able to catch his scent—the cedar and night-kissed air you’d recognized many times in recent days. But it had been so faint before, like he had been gone for weeks and the scent still lingered, or he had been in the room but only for a brief time. Nothing like now, with his chest only inches from your face.

“They seem to like my bed,” you laughed, just a small, breathy sound. An attempt to diffuse some of the untouched tension in the room.

The side of Azriel’s mouth curled up. You watched it rise, silently relishing in the heat of his body as it radiated into the space between you. “I can see that.”

He wasn’t a man of very many words—that’s something Mor had thankfully shared with you—but you wanted to fight against that. You wanted to hear the soft, low rumble of his voice. You wanted his laugh to spark in the air, to feel his words against your skin as you had just a few moments earlier. Azriel told you he didn’t hate you, that he was close to you, and suddenly the space between you felt impossible.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

“Have I changed things much?” you asked, heart thudding when he brought his gaze down to you. “I don’t know how much time you used to spend in here… or currently spend in here, I suppose—it’s only been a few days—but I’ve moved a few things. If you could tell.”

Azriel took in a long breath. “Actually, you—” he shook his head with an expression you could only decipher as baffled “—you put everything back. Cassian and Feyre, they moved a few things around when you were being brought home. Things that might have… well, we just didn’t want you to be overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed.

“We should have known that was a ridiculous idea. You’re too brilliant, even without the context.”

Warmth flooded you; one compliment from Azriel and it was as if nothing mattered. You didn’t need your memories, you only needed this.

Azriel’s cheeks colored as if he felt the rush of emotions himself, his eyes bright.

No, that wasn’t right—you needed your memories. You needed to remember each and every time he had looked like this.

“Probably didn’t help that there were a bunch of empty spaces everywhere. If you leave nails on the wall it becomes quite obvious that something belongs there,” you quipped, a small smirk playing at your features.

Azriel laughed. Not a full laugh, but one that you had no idea you were missing before. “I will be sure to pass on the message.”

“Good. Cassian has many messages coming from me, it seems. Conflicting ones as well.”

“Right, of course. I will convey to him that you missed his presence earlier, but also that he is awful at hiding things from an amnesiac.”

“Perfect, thank you, Azriel.”

He gazed upon you, eyes flickering to every corner of your face.

They rested on your lips and then your eyes, trailing up until his hand followed to move the strand of hair that had wisped across your forehead. He brushed it away with delicate fingers, not a touch of hesitancy in them. Like it was natural for him, normal.

And maybe it was.

“I don’t know what to pack,” you whispered, trying to keep some of the lightness in the room. “Can you help? I haven’t a clue where most of my things are and you appear to be much more knowledgeable.”

Azriel drew his hand back, his eyes closing for a few long moments.

You wished you could delve into his mind the way Rhysand could—that you could understand some of the pain written in the tight clench of his eyelids.

“Of course I’ll help you.”

It began with him gathering things from the connected washroom. He entered the tiled room and opened drawers without fault or mistake, collecting perfumes you had been gravitating towards and zipping up products you hadn’t even found yet. He packed your brushes and jewelry as if he’d done this all before, as if your request for help wasn’t really a request, but an expectation.

“Have we traveled together before?” you found yourself asking as you followed behind the shadowsinger, a bag hanging from his arm.

Azriel smiled, turning to you with a glint in his eye. “A few times.”

You were very close friends, then.

Azriel led you back to the closet where he pulled a few articles of clothing from the hangers, holding each out for you to approve before he neatly folded them. You denied nothing, rather surprised by his taste and sense for whatever the weather was like in Day.

He moved further into the closet, half of which was sparsely filled. Maybe you filtered out your clothes with the seasons.

Or maybe something was missing.

Azriel paused.

You watched his scarred fingers brush over the purple dress you had worn on the first day you spoke to him after waking up. He rubbed the material against the pad of his thumb once, and then twice, before closing the closet doors and taking an abrupt step back. You stepped with him.

The shadowsinger said nothing.

“All done?” you asked. “Anything else I would need at Day?”

His shoulders rose and fell. Some of his shadows returned to make revolutions around his body.

“Azriel?”

“I—I’m sorry. Give me a moment.”

The shadowsinger stalked over to the bed, went to sit, but then seemed to think against it and began pacing instead. You tucked your fingers into your palm as you watched him, trying to hide the discomfort you felt as his clear unease.

Had you done something wrong?

Maybe you were being too familiar. This friendship between you was new and comfortable and exciting, but that was for you.

For Azriel, there was a gap, an immense amount of pain and missing connection.

He didn’t hate you, and that was… wonderful news, but this was also uncharted territory.

Maybe you shouldn’t have asked for his help—shouldn’t have invited him in.

“Azriel, I—”

“I need to explain this to you,” Azriel began, running a hand through disheveled locks. “I need you to understand why this is so hard. I don’t want you to assume this is your fault or that this is anything other than what it is.”

You nodded, but he didn’t look up to see your confirmation.

Azriel sighed and his wings flared slightly, returning back to his body in a quivering motion.

“I am terrified, y/n.”

This time, Azriel did look up to catch your gaze.

“I am terrified because this has happened before. It’s like I’m reliving it. Like you’re reliving it but you just don’t remember.”

Your fists unfurled as your brows met a point. “No one’s told me—“

“I know,” he breathed out, defeat the most prominent emotion on his beautiful face. “Last time this happened, the more we told you about the past—about certain aspects of your life—the more it hurt you, y/n. You’d… you’d scream until your lungs gave out every time we tried to share something new. It was like that for weeks.”

The Illyrian forfeited his internal battle with the bed, dropping down into a seat on the foot of it. Unsure of your place within your own room, you simply followed him, standing in front of his bent knees, eyes prompting him to continue.

He watched you as you moved.

“Has anyone told you what you do for this court? Your job?”

You shook your head.

Azriel continued. “You work as an emissary between courts and continents, but that’s more of a cover—a more comprehensible title for those outside of our circle. It’s hard to explain, but that power Rhys mentioned? It’s—it’s as if you have this intuition. For everything. You look at things, at people, and you just… know them. You look past lies and you pick up on things that are seemingly impossible to catch.”

Your head shook as Azriel fumbled over each of his words, confusion swirling in your gut. “That doesn't make any sense. Mor said that Rhys found me working at some boatyard by the Sidra. She said I used to help build vessels—there’s no way I have a power like that.”

“You do,” Azriel affirmed. “Rhys only went to find you because he heard of a girl building boats from memory. You took one look at him and knew what he wanted. Rhys said he barely had to offer you the job.”

It was a struggle not to grind your teeth together in frustration.

You used to know everything.

And now you knew nothing.

Your head began to hurt, or maybe you were just noticing that it had never stopped hurting.

“You said—” you started, tone heavy with vexation. Your eyes couldn’t find a solid place to land “—you said this has happened before. What does that have to do with these powers?”

Sensing the rise in your mood, Azriel seemed to even his own out. A balance between the two of you. You became agitated, he became calm. But you could tell he was struggling.

“Around 270 years ago, after you’d been working for the court for a few decades, Rhys sent you to Day. It was routine. You were going to gather information for a High Lord’s summit meant to take place there, but really, Rhys wanted you to scope out the area. To get insight on any plans, any secret dealings. You were meant to be gone for a few days at the most.”

Azriel’s fists clenched atop his knees. His face remained impassive.

“You were gone for six months. Gone. No one could reach you, Helion had assumed you went home already. It was right after you and I… became friends, so I was worried for you. More than the others, but no one was without worry. We found you eventually, but you—”

Something choked. Azriel choked. His head hung down and you replayed the last few of his words in your mind—the way they tightened and then tapered off.

This was too much.

Conveying comfort in the only way you knew how—in the way this family tended to love—you stepped between Azriel’s legs and brought a hand to his cheek, raising his face until his glassy eyes came into view.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” you whispered. “If it’s too hard, we can stop.”

Azriel’s jaw quivered. His next words seemed to tumble from his mouth without warning.

“Fuck, I miss you.”

It was simple instinct that led to your reply. “I’m right here.”

Something stirred within you, tugging lightly. Your heart, you deduced, beating so fast it was playing tricks on you. The shadowsinger in your hands twisted slightly, just barely so that the corner of his mouth touched your palm. Your heart tugged again.

“You didn’t remember anything, like now,” Azriel revealed, speaking just as you were about to pull away. You stopped yourself, feeling as if your touch was an encouragement to speak. “It was worse though, you were in so much pain. Any time you tried to remember anything, or even just tried to learn, it was like you were being pierced through the skull. You—you screamed so much.

“But it didn’t take us very long to figure it out. My spies in Day found the culprit and it was easy to capture him. He was weak. Strong powers, but weak in every other sense of the word. It was another Daemati—like Rhys. He became infatuated with you during your time in Day. He knocked you out, found a way to use your powers against you, to make them hurt.”

Azriel shuddered. His mouth got closer to your hand like he was leaning into it.

“It took a few weeks to get him to fix it. But those months, y/n—the time you were gone. You don’t remember them. I can only imagine what you went through. And when we brought you home you hurt so badly. So that's why… why us going back there is hard. Because this is all so similar and if it’s happening again I can’t…”

“Azriel,” you softly called, sure that this was the most amount of speaking the shadowsinger had done in a while. Sure that he needed a break. A respite. “It’s not the same, is it? You know that. My head hurts, but not like that. I don’t struggle to be reminded of the past. I learn new things. There is no evil villain waiting to take me away.”

“Y/n—”

“It’s not the same. I might not have access to these all-encompassing powers you speak of, but I can tell you that much. I’m sorry for what you went through before—that you had to watch a member of your family go through that then and then now… but it’s different. It’s different and I’ll be okay.”

His pond water eyes stared back at you as you attempted a reassuring smile. You felt his knees press against your thighs where you stood between them, and the pressure spurred you on. You ran your thumb along the high point of his cheek, relishing in the flutter of his lashes, gravitating towards him to relish in that closeness as well. This moment felt like yours, and something was telling you it was yours. That no one else could have this with him.

But you didn’t have your powers, your fae abilities, so maybe that feeling was nothing but hope.

Your thudding heart lulled you into a long breath.

“Maybe, if it would put you at ease, you could stay with me while we’re in Day? At my side, I mean. You could whisper everyone’s names into my ear so I don’t look like a fool and make sure I don’t get lost—”

“Yes,” Azriel replied, sure and resolute with no traces of the impending tears that had made his hazel eyes a pretty pool just moments before. “I won’t leave your side once. I promise.”

His devotion made you pause, surprise evident in the rapid blinking of your eyes. You wanted to protest, to tell him he didn’t need to promise something so taxing, but determination had set in his brow, and Azriel—your friend—wanted this. Needed this.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you, Azriel. For telling me all of this even though it was hard. For being here for me even though I know that’s hard, too. You’re a wonderful friend. I can’t wait to continue to find that out. I promise to be just as wonderful.”

“You are already the most wonderful thing in my life.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction #azriel #if it all fell

1K notes · View notes

lucyrose191 · 2 months

Text

BROKEN DECISIONS| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Divorced!Toto Wolff x fem!engineer!Schumacher!reader

Summary; The news of Toto Wolff divorcing from Susie has just hit the media and you, Michael Schumacher’s eldest daughter and George Russel’s race engineer, are beyond shocked, even more so as your relationship with your boss begins to evolve.

Warnings; angst, light smut, heartbreak, pregnancy trope.

F1 Master List , Part 2

The paddock was overwhelmed with media reporters and cameras, way more than usual for a race weekend, the Mercedes garage was surrounded by people as well as the entrance to the track, all waiting for one man, Toto Wolff.

You had been more than taken back by the joint statements released this morning which both effectively said the same thing.

mercedesamgf1: Team Principle Toto Wolff announces divorce from wife Susie Wolff, both will continue to co-parent son Jack Wolff and will continue to work together happily, they wish nothing but the best for each other in the future and wish for the privacy and support they need during this time.

SusieStoddart: Toto and I have mutually decided to part ways and divorce after 12 years of marriage, both of us will continue to co-parent our son, Jack and will continue working together in the future. I wish nothing but the best to him for the future, please respect our privacy during this time and I hope you guys will continue to support us both from this point on, even on our separate paths. Thank you.

It all seemed so sudden to you, nothing has seemed out of place whenever they were in the garage together but you suppose that’s how the saying you never know what’s going on behind closed doors goes.

You squeezed your way through the crowd, ignoring all of the questions fired your way and the cameras and microphones that were shoved in your face, it wasn’t your job to be making comments about a relationship that had nothing to do with you and it was entirely unprofessional.

Huffing out a breath as you finally crossed the threshold of the garage, you straightened out your clothes and bag before making your way over to your desk that you sat at whenever George was out on the track.

Bono was already in his chair and looked up when he heard you pull your hair out, taking note of your flustered state. "I take it you’ve seen the news."

"It’s everywhere! It’d be a miracle if I hadn’t seen it," you huffed. Looking around, you noticed how flustered everyone else seemed to be whilst trying to do their jobs, you didn’t blame them because right now no one knew what mood the boss was going to be in when he arrived, if he arrived.

"Is he even coming today? I certainly wouldn’t." You asked.

Bono shrugged, "you know what he’s like, that man would be here even if his leg was falling off, he’ll be here and god help him when he is."

"Yeah, true. Am I blind though or did anyone else not see this coming because they were both at the factory two weeks ago and everything seemed fine to me."

Bono turned away from his monitor and completely turned to you, huddling closer. "I didn’t suspect anything either but they’re really good as keeping work life and private life separated. Have you seen some of the rumours though?"

You snorted and nodded your head, "I’ve seen the ones about Toto having an affair which is ridiculous, that man does not have the time to be hiding an entire relationship."

Bono laughed at your choice of words but abruptly stopped as he stared behind you causing you to look at him in confusion before turning around, pausing at the sight of your boss walking in with a face of stone.

"Ahh shit," you muttered, hearing a small hum of agreement coming from Bono.

Then you saw him heading into your direction.

"Double shit," You heard Bono mumble causing you to bite your lip, trying to prevent yourself from smiling.

"Y/N. Bono. Good Morning," Toto nodded his head in greeting.

You smiled up at him, "Morning, boss, feeling positive about today?"

Bono sighed from behind you which caused you to internally wince at your own words, now realising that might not have been a good question to ask.

"Yeah," Toto looked between the pair of you suspiciously. "Are you?"

"Very," you tried to sound convincing, "I’m sure George is going to drive like it’s his last race and if not then I’ll boot him up the arse."

Toto looked at you amused, "I believe you."

After he walked away you turned to Bono with a pained look on your face meanwhile he was trying not to fall into laughter. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

He laughed straight in your face as you sighed at yourself. "How an I supposed to talk to him normally when all I want to say to his face is ‘hey, heard about your divorce, that sucks and now everyone thinks you can’t keep a wife’."

"Yeah don’t say that," Bono grimaced at your words.

Everything was real now, it had been real for a while but now the news was out for everyone to gossip about.

Things hadn’t been right for a long time between him and Susie and whilst there hadn’t been any constant arguing or disloyalty between the two of them, there hadn’t been much else either.

You’d have thought working within the same industry would have built an understanding between them about their schedules and commitments and it had in the beginning but as formula one became more popular, their lives had only gotten busier to the point they hardly saw each other and even when they did it was only to ensure Jack was getting enough quality time with both of his parents, it was as though they had been coparenting with each other whilst they weren’t even split.

A year ago they had accepted the inevitable fate of their marriage and had been figuring out the logistics of their divorce but just like they had kept their struggles silenced, they had kept the news of their parting silent too.

But it had been over a year now and quite frankly the fake shows they were putting on were getting exhausting, they were both moving on and pretending to still be a happily married couple wasn’t doing well in helping them in the process.

Toto had found a particular thing that hadn’t allowed him to dwell in the sadness of his private life. Something, or someone, that didn’t even know how much they were helping him.

You.

Everyday you showed up to work with a smile on your face, eternally grateful for everything life had offered you. You had achieved your dreams of working within formula one, it might not have been on the track driving at record breaking speeds like your father but you had one of the most important roles in the team and you enjoyed it.

Even today as he walked through the doors trying to ignore all of the sad, pathetic looks people were giving him and the onslaught of invasive questions people were attacking him with and even if they weren’t verbally shooting words his way, he could see the unasked questions in everyone’s eyes, you greeted him like you did every other day and whilst he knew you were aware of the news, nothing in your face showed the slightest bit of curiosity towards the end of his marriage and he couldn’t express how refreshing that was and how much he needed it.

Slowly, he found himself looking forward to the days ahead where he could bump into you and witness the smile on your face as he tried to ignore the way your energy made his heart feel funny and when Mick signed as the team’s reserve driver he would use the fact that he was ‘mentoring’ your little brother as an excuse to see you, knowing that naturally he would be around you more.

You jumped up from your seat in excitement as you saw both Mercedes cars pass the checkered flag securing second and third place behind Max, obviously.

"George you fucking beautiful human bring!" You shouted through the radio before turning to look for Toto, hoping that these results would have put a smile on his face only to find that he was already looking at you intensely, not even acknowledging the pats he was getting on his back by team members.

He winked at you? And sent you what seemed to be a grateful smile before turning away to celebrate with those around him. You were thankful he did so and didn’t see the pink hue you could feel spreading through your cheeks.

A sudden weight on your back didn’t allow you to dwell on it. Mick had launched himself at you in his exhilaration causing you to quickly latch onto his legs so you both didn’t go tumbling, you laughed and spun the pair of you around before putting him down so you could all go outside and gather in the pits to watch the podium.

You always went out of your way to be a kind person but the moment your team was standing under the podium all manners went out of the way and you barged your way to the front of the barriers to watch, mumbling half-hearted apologies, you knew no one would take your behaviour the wrong way as you’ve known them for so long.

Looking up, you were happy to see the smiles on Lewis and George’s faces, tough seasons can really take a told on the mental health of the drivers and it can be easy to lose motivation, especially when you were part of a team that was so used to winning but they looked as happy as ever now and it made all of the hard work that everyone had put in worth it.

Two hands clamped down on your shoulders startling you, followed by the feeling of a firm chest being pressed up against your back. You looked up and saw Toto but he wasn’t looking at you, he kept his gaze up on the podium and the happiness on his face hadn’t subsided so you didn’t question it and turned back to the celebrations.

His behaviour was really confusing you and you wanted to talk to him about it but decided to push it away for another day.

His behaviour hasn’t been limited to that day alone.

The entire season has been filled with soft touches from him, from a small brush of his hand against your back as he walked past or light touches of your hips to guide you to the side when you were in his walk way.

Let’s not forget about the way he started to look at you. Toto’s stare was always intense but now you couldn’t ignore the soft shine his eyes held as he looked at you.

You hoped you weren’t reading too much into things otherwise that would be embarrassing but you couldn’t stop noticing the little things he would do and what was even worse was the way these things were effecting you.

These touches would leave your skin feeling tingly and your head fuzzy to the point your mind just turned blank and now whenever he was so much as in the same room as you, your mind became hyper-fixated on his presence to the point it felt like you were compelled to constantly glance in his direction.

You had worked for him for nearly eight years and not once had you even considered looking at him in any other way other than as your boss and a friend.

You acknowledged that he was handsome and had the charisma to match but you had never been attracted to him up until now, how was this year any different to the last seven?

Hands slamming down into your desk startled you from your thoughts, you looked up wide eyed at the grinning face of your younger brother causing you to grumble in annoyance and throw the pen that was sitting on your desk at him.

"What’s wrong with your face?" Mick easily dodged your attack and asked.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"My big sister always has a smile on her face and for the last twenty minutes you’ve been sat there staring at nothing with a frown on your face."

"Nothing," you muttered, turning back to your laptop screen that had long since shut off.

"Right," Mick replied sarcastically, "Come on, tell me what’s wrong."

You pursed your lips as you debated telling him or not. "You promise not to tell anyone?"

Mick’s face lost its teasing look as he realised you were actually troubled. "Of course." He replied sincerely.

You hesitated for a moment longer before asking "have you noticed that Toto has been acting strange lately?"

Mick looked at you surprised for a moment before smirking and nodded, "you mean the fact that the entire season he’s been staring at you like you’re the finest piece of meat he’s ever seen?" He asked teasingly.

"I wouldn’t have worded it that way but yeah," you responded.

"Then yes, I’m surprised it took you this long to acknowledge it."

You shook your head, "I noticed it at the beginning of the season but I thought I was imagining it and now I can’t stop noticing the fact that he-"

"Fancies the hell out of you?" Mick finished, a shit eating grin on his face.

You groaned and placed your head against your desk. "This is wrong, he’s my boss!"

"Tell me about it, he’s mine too and he fancies my sister!"

"Stop saying he fancies me!" You told him resulting in him just laughing at you. "Seriously Mick, what am I supposed to do?"

Mick sighed and looked at you seriously, "Do you like him?"

"I dont know," you replied honestly, "before this season I wouldn’t have even looked at him as anything but my boss and a friend but now he keeps looking at me and taking any opportunity to touch me and it’s confusing me."

Mick pulled an uncomfortable face at your words but gave you some advice. "Then do nothing until you know for sure."

You nodded and he smiled before walking around your desk and wrapping you in a tight hug which was more like a headlock but it was a hug nonetheless.

"Smile! We’re in Abu Dhabi and we’re partying tonight," he fake cheered as he walked away causing you to laugh at his behaviour.

And that’s exactly what you did. It had been a tough season for Mercedes, the team hadn’t nearly performed as well as they were used to but through a lot of hard work the season had ended on a high note and and no one was going to dwell on this years difficulties tonight.

You were definitely allowing yourself some freedom tonight to drink away and forget about the confusing thoughts that had been swimming around in your head all season.

The club was dark except for the colourful flashing lights that were roaming the entirety of the room that the FIA had rented out for all of the f1 teams celebrating tonight. You were already feeling more relaxed from the three drinks you hadn’t wasted time on consuming and had dragged poor Bono, who had zero rhythm, to the dance floor.

The man looked traumatised as he simply stood there awkwardly with you holding onto his hands, swaying his arms to try and encourage him to dance and have a bit of fun.

You kept him there for an hour before eventually taking pity on him and letting him go, you walked over to the bar to get another drink, not seeing the person approaching you until he was right beside you.

"You look lovely."

You turned to your right in surprise, Toto was mimicking your stance, leaning his side against the bar as he looked into yours eyes. "Thank you," you replied, a little shocked at his words.

"I see you were having fun with Bono," he commented absentmindedly.

You laughed, "Me? Yes. I don’t think he was having as much fun as I was."

"He’s not much of a dancer," Toto smirked.

"Oh, I know. He can’t move to save his life but it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try."

The bartender placed your drink in front of you and you took a sip after giving him a thanks. "Have you been having fun?" You asked.

Toto tapped his fingers against the bar top and signed. "As much as I can after the shit season we’ve had."

"We’ll be better next year," you replied confidently.

He simply nodded in response, dragging his gaze down your body and back up again.

The feeling of his eyes trailing you left a burning heat on your skin and an unfamiliar fluttering in your stomach.

"I like this dress," he told you, nodding at the tight fabric that clung to your figure.

"I got it yesterday," you knew he didn’t care but for some reason you felt inclined to share that information with him, fighting the urge to look away and hide a smile.

"You picked wisely," he immediately responded and this time you didn’t fight the smile, his smooth responses settling within you exactly how he wanted.

"I’m glad you like it," your voice was quiet in the midst of the loud music and voices but it didn’t prevent him from hearing you words.

The way he smirked down at you made you feel much smaller than you were, the idea of how his stature and strength would help with the power he held over you made you burn with need and the want to find out for yourself.

You huffed out a breath.

You needed another drink.

You threw your head back into the pillows and gasped as Toto thrusted into you, pulsating pleasure rushing through your body with every movement.

You didn’t know how you got to this point, the night was a haze of drinking, close dancing and longing looks but the one memory that stood out was the warmth of Toto’s hands against your hips, after that everything blurred up until this moment.

Your arm wrapped around the back of his neck, your hand burying itself into his hair as you tried to ground yourself but you were hopeless within the haze of his kisses against your throat and hands holding your thighs spread for him.

"Toto!"

His breath was heavy against your skin. "You feel so good, schatz." The guttural groan he released sent you feral, you tightened your grip on him and pulled him closer so your chests pressed against each other.

Your vision went white as Toto just grazed that sweet spot inside you with one particularly hard thrust before he angled his hips in a way that with each bruising snap of his hips he made, the tip of his cock would brush against you just right.

As you felt yourself approaching your release, your back arched and the air remained trapped in your lungs, your grip tightened on Toto’s hair causing him to groan into your neck while your other hand shot up behind you and grabbed onto the headboard.

Just as you were at the precipice of your release, Toto reached down and circled your clit with his fingers providing the last bit of stimulation needed for you to let go and dive into a river of overwhelming pleasure.

The sight of your face completely blissed out made Toto’s cock harden more inside of you, he continued to thrust and work you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own, chasing his release as he felt his body fill with an indescribable need to continue rutting into you.

The groan of relief he let out followed by a warmth in your core brought you back to reality, Toto allowed his body to collapse onto your own and simply lay there as he caught his breath and recovered from his own orgasm.

Your hand continued to run through his hair, grounding his mind to reality and encouraging him back from his high.

Moments later, Toto removed himself from you and curled up behind you, wrapped an arm across your stomach and pulled you into his chest.

Both still feeling the haze of the alcohol in your systems, no words needed to be spoken between the pair of you as you both succumbed to much needed sleep.

You woke up feeling as though your brain was swelling beyond the capacity of your skull and dehydrated to the point you felt like you could drink about forty litres of water.

Every part of your body ached as you moved beneath the covers, flashes of last night flickered through your mind causing you to groan at the reminder of your drink choices.

You were definitely regretting it now.

A particular memory caused you to pause and look beneath the sheets, grimacing as you realised you were naked.

Then you froze, Toto.

Your head shot to the side and instead of laying your eyes upon your boss’ 6ft5 frame you were greeted by an empty half of the bed with only crumpled white sheets.

Your heart dropped as you looked around the room, there was no indication that anyone else had been here but the ache between your legs made it very clear that last night did in fact happen.

He had left.

After an entire season of fighting with your feelings and the way he made you feel, you had given in to him only for him to leave.

You felt sick and dirty and disgusting and used.

You pulled yourself into the shower and tried to to push down the need to cry but you were filled with an overwhelming sense of betrayal and couldn’t stop the rogue fear that fell down your cheek.

Waiting to board the plane back to England, you looked down at your phone, you had a feeling Toto was already there by now and you had messaged him ages ago but no response.

Had you been crazy believing that he could have feelings for you?

You were so mad at yourself for being as affected as you were by his actions, it felt like someone had your heart in their fist and found amusement in squeezing it, filling you with the need to just let go and allow your emotions to flow freely.

You didn’t need to be back at the factory until after Christmas so you went straight home and unpacked your bag before repacking to go and spend your time off in Switzerland with your family, Toto still hadn’t responded and you were positive he was just ignoring you now and you didn’t try to get a response.

You’d deal with that after Christmas.

Normally you’d wait a week or two after the season ended to go back home but you really had no reason to stay, you’d changed your mind on attending the FIA awards which had confused Mick when you told him but he could tell something was wrong and chose not to pry.

You seriously didn’t think the year could get worse, you were so wrong.

The last three weeks in Switzerland had been hell to put it lightly, Christmas was just around the corner but it was hard to be excited when you had caught the sickness bug, the amount of time you spent in bed throwing up was disgusting at this point and the coddling of your family wasn’t helping.

You knew they loved you but you wish they’d just leave you alone to wallow in misery.

Toto was still a lingering thought in the back of your mind and it was only adding to how rubbish you felt but you hadn’t made any other attempt to get in touch, he hadn’t tried either so you knew where you stood with him and that was enough.

New years had passed and you were now back in England to go back to work, you had never dreaded going to work in all the years you’d worked for Mercedes so the unsettling feeling in your stomach was new.

But that could also just be nausea.

You still hadn’t completely recovered from your sickness over the holidays, you were no longer bed bound but the urge to throw up and the loss of appetite was still there, the loss of weight was visible in the sickly paleness of your face so you had booked a doctors appointment for the upcoming Friday.

Your stomach churned as you walked through the doors of the Mercedes headquarters, as the daughter of Michael Schumacher you got a lot more attention in the building as you would’ve if you were just a race engineer so the nods from almost everyone as you walked in weren’t strange to you but the sympathetic looks were.

You hoped it was just because you looked as if you hadn’t seen sun for the past ten years.

Deciding to stop by hospitality on the way to your office for a bottle of water, you paused in the doorway at the sight of Toto and didn’t hesitate to turn right back around before your mind even processed his presence.

You got a few funny looks by the people in there but you truly didn’t care.

It stayed like that for the rest of the week, whenever you found yourself in the same room as your boss there was no time wasted before you left even if there were still things needed to be done in that room, you didn’t even try to be subtle about it either.

As soon as he entered the room you immediately took your leave, it was rude but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care and you doubted he cared either.

You had taken the day off work today to attend your doctor’s appointment so thankfully you didn’t need to waste your efforts avoiding him.

"Symptoms are nausea, sickness and weight loss," The doctor listed and you nodded in clarification.

She looked at you knowingly, "When did your last cycle finish?" She asked.

You pulled a face and leaned your head back in thought, it was probably before Vegas, but that was….. your face grew even paler than it already was.

"November," you whispered, your body filling with complete and utter horror.

The doctor’s face grew sympathetic at your reaction, "and you’ve had unprotected sexual intercourse since then?" She asked though your face gave her the answer.

You were at a loss for words so you resulted in nodding; the idea of you being pregnant only made you feel more sick.

"Okay," she replied softly, "We’ll have you take a test to confirm."

You didn’t even register the next ten minutes, lost in your own mind as an emptiness settled within you, your chest ached with pain at the idea that your whole life could be changed in just a few short minutes.

"Miss Schumacher, are you okay?" The doctor asked worriedly.

You snapped back to reality and nodded numbly.

"The test came back positive, Y/N, so I’ll refer you to a midwife and during this time you should think about what you want to do, okay?"

How you didn’t crash on the way home was a miracle because you definitely weren’t concentrating, you carried your body straight to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, you looked like hell.

Just the sight caused your eyes to well up and this time you didn’t fight the emotions, you welcomed the tears and allowed the pain to consume you, the pain of realising just how alone you were in this moment.

You slid down against the bathroom door and curled yourself into a ball, buried your face into your knees and sobbed until you no longer could.

The weight in your chest was still present as you walked into work the following Monday but you no longer had any tears to spare, you had made up your mind about what your future would consist of and today would mark the beginning of it.

Knocking on the door to Toto’s office, you waited for confirmation to enter and he clearly hadn’t anticipated you on the other side from the look of surprise on his face but you didn’t mention it and closed the door behind you.

"We need to talk," you wasted no time in pleasantries and sat down in the seat opposite him.

"Is there a problem with the car?" He asked, his formal tone cut through you like a knife but you refused to show the effect it had.

You wouldn’t have thought the pair of you were friends just two months ago.

"There’s nothing wrong with the car," you told him.

"What do we need to talk about then?" He asked.

He was royally pissing you off with the way he was pretending to be ignorant. "We need to talk about what happened between us-"

"This is unprofessional," he interrupted and you scoffed in disbelief.

"Unprofessional?" You laughed in his face. "Do you know what else in unprofessional? Sleeping with your employee."

His face dropped at the bluntness of your words, "look, you shouldn’t be bringing private matters into the workplace."

"How else am I supposed to bring them up? Over text message where I never get a response?" You looked at him incredulously. "This is important-"

"I don’t want to hear it, Y/N," he cut you off harshly. "What happened between us shouldn’t have happened, it was a moment of weakness and it will never happen again."

You looked at him stone faced before nodding, "fine." You got up from your seat and left without another word, not bothering closing his door.

You didn’t go to your office, instead you went to HR.

Walking past the different offices you went straight for the head of HR. "Chloe?" You knocked on the door quietly, opening it once you received a response.

She smiled at you in greeting, "Y/N, can I help you with something?"

You nodded softly and sat down on the sofa she had against the wall. "How many holidays do I have?"

She looked at you suspiciously, "All of them, you didn’t put one in for Friday so that went unpaid."

"Okay," you muttered under your breath, "I want to cash them all in, starting from tomorrow."

"What?" She looked at you shocked. "Are you sure? If there’s something going on we can figure out a better solution for you."

You smiled and shook your head, "Uhm no I’m sure, I want to use them all and then after that I’ll be taking early maternity leave."

Chloe’s eyes widened in shock. "Wow, okay, congratulations."

"Thanks, I want to spend my pregnancy in Switzerland so you won’t see me around."

You could see that she had questions but didn’t ask them and you appreciated it, "I understand, I’m happy for you Y/N, I’ll get it all sorted for you."

"Great," you stood up and headed towards the door.

"Y/N?" You turned around, Chloe looked at you sincerely, "Give me a call if you need someone to talk to, yeah?"

You probably wouldn’t but you nodded and left.

To say Toto was surprised when he found out they were down their usual race engineer for the season was an understatement.

It was completely unexpected and he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t happy about it, George was not at all in agreement to having a new voice in his ear.

It wasn’t even for a couple races either, it was for the entire season.

No one in the team had any information on what had happened except two people, Mick and Chloe.

No one could ask Mick because he had left to do the world endurance championship and when Toto had went to ask Chloe all he got was a shrug and words that sounded as though they’d been read from the companies handbook.

"It’s against an employee’s confidentiality rights to discuss the matters with you, even if you are the boss, all I can tell you is she’ll be back at work next year."

Meanwhile, in Switzerland you were slowly but surely feeling much better.

You were putting the situation between you and Toto behind you, you were recovering and as you did, your bump grew and the sight made you smile.

The horror and fear you felt when you found out about your pregnancy had dissipated weeks ago, leaving you filled with excitement and love for the journey you had ahead of you.

With your mother and sister around you, the loneliness you felt had evaporated as well.

You were doing good and felt amazing and that’s all that mattered right now.

#formula one #motorsport #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x you #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfiction #angst

2K notes · View notes

inklore · 10 months

Text

just a taste

premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?

pairing: luca x (f)reader

word count: 3.1k

contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.

note: i know the bare minimum about this man because i’ve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!

The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that he’ll surely plop down next to you on after he’s kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugar—embedded in his skin at this point—making you bury your nose into his collarbone.

But this was a ritual for the both of you.

You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work.

The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Luca’s soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Luca’s fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you.

So that nibble of regret doesn’t last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know you’re out front.

A text that’s barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, “you can go in. He's in the back.” a co-worker you’ve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out.

You could enter the kitchen a dozen times—a million, a billion—your nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and you’d never get over the view.

Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.

See him doing what he loves.

It’s like the first time every time.

Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had made—saved—for you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but you’d gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever.

Taste Luca’s creations forever.

That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship.

Nothing seems to fade with Luca.

Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around.

It knocks you off kilter in the best way.

And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft.

He doesn’t say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. “Hi, beautiful.” He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasn’t seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. “How was your day?”

“Not as good as it is now,” you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours.

The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhile—how could anything be as worthwhile—as his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin?

It couldn’t.

"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway.

And if you didn’t know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Luca’s love for his craft. Love him in this element—watching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode.

The stern gentleness of it all.

It’s breathtaking to watch.

It’s art.

He’s art.

So that’s what you do.

You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him.

“How was your day?” You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner.

“Good. We got a new guy who came in.”

“Is he any good?”

“Better than he thinks he is.”

“I bet you brought out his best. You always do.” You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest.

Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white.

Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadent—something that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could).

Luca hands you a spoon, “told him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.” You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed.

But it still brings a smile to your face.

“Did he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.”

He chuckles, “you’re the only critic that matters to me.” His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. “The only important one at least. Try it.”

The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up.

And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you don’t think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock.

The moan you let out makes him grin.

“Good?”

“Is he single?”

“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.

You take another bite of the dessert, “I think you might want to start looking for another job.”

“And a girlfriend?”

You nod, “with something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.” You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.

“Here I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.” Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder.

Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him.

A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, “and the only one who can make those noises come out of you.”

Your voice is breathy when you say, “so much for being humble.”

"When it’s the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. “Am I wrong? Should we see?”

The spoon in your hand lucky you don’t have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now.

Luca’s fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. “Hmm, awfully quiet now. Where’d my mouthy girl go?” An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, “humbled are you?”

There’s a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an ‘o’ as Luca’s fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal that’s been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway.

When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection that’s pressing up against it.

“Who’s humble now?” He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds.

You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.

With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper.

So when he says “office”, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after you’ve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface.

Luca’s fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead he’s trailing kisses and bites into your thighs.

Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in them—that glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point.

His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. “I’ve worked hard all day; don’t I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.”

And how could you argue with that?

You can’t.

Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm.

And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock.

He’s multi-talented and it’s a blessing and a curse to your insides.

“Oh, fuck. Luca,” your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his back—his apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blue—his fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth.

The mouth that’s switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like you’re the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting.

It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body.

His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as they’ve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk you’re perched on.

It’s when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.

Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Luca’s wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him.

His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there.

“Tell me,” he says close to your lips. He’s checking in. Seeing if you’re too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If you’re ready for him now.

“It’d be cruel to not fuck me now.” You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone.

“Ooh,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “I don’t want to be cruel.” You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until he’s pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she so desperately needs?”

Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, “the worst kind.”

With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion.

Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legs—that you’re not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when it’s torn from a body.

The two of you need this.

Need each other.

When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths.

The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock.

His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth.

You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and you’d still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer.

“Who’s pussy is it, baby?”

"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy you—which is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this.

When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that it’s met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit.

“So beautiful,” Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that you’ll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion that’s coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come.

“How’d I get so lucky?” He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more.

#luca x reader #will poulter x reader #luca the bear #will poulter smut #luca smut #luca x you #luca the bear x you #the bear #the bear fanfiction #will poulter x you #the bear fx #the bear one shot #will poulter fic #the bear x reader #will poulter #adam warlock smut #luca one shot #the bear imagine

3K notes · View notes

drudyslut · 5 months

Text

— summary: you meet rafe cameron on tinder

— pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

— warnings: smut! 18+ tinder hookup, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected sex, some degrading name calling, praise, strong language. i think that’s it.

— note: this isn’t based in the obx. it’s an NYC au <3

❥ swipe, fuck, leave — r.c

being on tinder was not apart of your life plan, but with the pain of your last relationship, and how messy the break up had been, you’d fallen into the world of dating apps- more specifically, tinder.

you wanted meaningless hookups with guys whose names you’d never remember, wanted rough, no strings attached sex- swipe, fuck, leave as your friends would say.

it was friday night, and the sound of your heels clacking against the pavement, followed by the chatter of the many people around filled your ears as you walked along the cold streets of new york city.

you approach your destination, an extravagant hotel coming into view, your eyes sparkling as you stared up at the tall building.

you pull open the large doors, making your way straight to the elevators. once you’re inside, you pull your phone out, opening your messages with the man and finding the room number- room 920.

once you reach the ninth floor you step off the elevator, smoothing down the front of your black dress and beginning your search for the room.

your eyes scan each door carefully before they finally land on the room you’re looking for. you reach your hand out slowly, knocking softly on the door and stepping back, waiting on him to answer.

the door swings open in seconds and you’re met by the most beautiful set of blue eyes you think you’d ever seen, a sexy smirk played on his lips.

“y/n right?” he says, voice low and raspy, the ache between your legs already growing.

you smile. “yeah. nice to meet you, rafe”

you extend a hand out for him to shake which he gladly accepts, his large hand covering your small one as he places a soft kiss to the back of it.

“please, come inside”

you quickly oblige, stepping through the threshold and into the room.

your eyes begin scanning the room, taking in the beautiful view of new york from the large door that leads out to a balcony.

“this is so beautiful, wow”

rafe chuckles, making his way toward a mini bar and pouring two glasses of wine. he grabs both glasses, making his way toward you and handing you one.

“i take it none of your other tinder hookups spent this kind of money for the night?”

you chuckle, bringing the wine glass to your lips and taking a long sip. “they have not. so far i’ve had hookups in someone’s parents basement, in a car, and mostly at my apartment. this is a nice change of scenery”

rafe grins, setting his glass down and taking yours from your hands. he places his hands on your shoulders, sliding the skinny straps of your dress down, his lips placing soft kisses on both sides.

“well, i’m glad i can be the first to treat you to a night you deserve. a beautiful girl like you deserves princess treatment”

you feel your face heat up, your head falling back as his lips begin kissing at your neck.

“charming aren’t you?” you say, your voice shaky, breathing becoming erratic the more he kissed and nipped at your neck.

he licks a stripe up your neck and to the lobe of your ear, his teeth lightly nipping at the skin and sending chills down your body.

you turn quickly on your heels, arms flying around his neck as you harshly press your lips against his. he forces his tongue into your mouth, the two of you fighting for dominance before he inevitably wins.

you moan into his mouth when his hands run down your sides, gripping your ass tightly in his hands.

“can’t wait to fuck you, i bet you feel so fucking good” he groans, his feet carrying the two of you to the large bed.

he pushes you back onto the large, fluffy mattress, your tits bouncing from the impact.

rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth attaching to your neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh while his hands palmed at your breasts through the fabric of your dress.

you whimper when he sinks his teeth into your skin, sucking a deep purple bruise into your neck. he kisses the new hickey softly, pulling back and admiring his work.

“need to get this off of you” he states, his hands working your dress down your body, tossing it onto the floor.

you see the outline of his growing cock through the fabric of his khaki pants, your eyes growing wide at the sight.

“so. fucking. sexy” rafe groans, his eyes taking in the sight of your red lace lingerie set you’d chosen for the night.

“fuck me already” you whine as your hands fly to his pants, palming him through his pants.

he chuckels, quickly unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs. you begin salivating when you see his hard on pressed against his thigh, his briefs giving you a better look at what you’re working with.

“such a needy little whore aren’t you?”

“i know what i want, and how i want it. i want you to fuck me, and don’t be gentle”

you watch as his bright blue eyes go dark, his lip brought between his teeth as he nods his head.

“i like ‘em fiesty. i like a woman who knows what she wants”

you loop your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down his legs and tossing them to the side, his large, thick cock springing free and smacking at his stomach.

“fuck” you groan, eyes wide as you take in his full size.

rafe chuckles darkly. “don’t worry, i’ll make it fit sweetheart”

you lift yourself from your back, sitting on your knees, hands flying to grasp him. you spit into your hand, placing it back on his cock and stroking him slowly, twisting and pulling his entire length.

a raspy groan falls from rafe’s lips, his head falling back in pleasure. “feels so good, fuck”

you smile to yourself, leaning forward and placing a kiss to the head. he twitches in your hand, precum leaking from his tip. you lick the precum from his head, humming in approval, the taste of him on your tongue making your arousal pool into your panties.

“taste so good, rafe”

you lick a stripe up the bottom of his shaft and to the head, pushing the tip into your mouth and sucking at it lightly. a string of curses and groans fall from his lips, his hands flying to the back of your head, fingers tightly gripping at your locks as he shoves himself fully into your mouth.

you gag around him, the tip of his head repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as he thrusts himself into your mouth.

“fuck, fuck! such a good little slut, letting me fuck your throat, letting me fill this pretty little mouth with my cock and you don’t even know me”

you feel your eyes filling with tears, the abuse his cock was doing to your throat making it hard to breathe, making your mind hazy.

you place your hands on his thighs, steadying yourself as he continues his abuse on your throat, his hips thrusting into your face harshly.

his dick twitches in your mouth, his release nearing the edge. he pulls your hair tightly, pulling your mouth from his cock, the head popping out with a small pop.

“up, i wanna fuck you on the balcony, let all of new york know who’s making you feel so fucking good”

you quickly obeyed, jumping from the bed and rushing to the balcony door. you swing it open, stepping out into the chilly air, goosebumps traveling up your skin, but you were too turned on to care.

rafe makes his way behind you, a condom in hand. he sets the condom on a small side table, pushing your back into the railing and dropping to his knees. he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, sliding your lacy red thong to the side.

"wanna taste you first" rafe says, running a finger through your slick, gathering your arousal onto his digit.

he removes his finger from your pussy, shoving it into his mouth and humming in approval.

"so fucking sweet, just like i thought you'd be"

you gasp when you feel rafe lick through your slick folds, his tongue lapping up your juices and flicking against your clit.

your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the messy locks as loud moans and whines fall from your lips.

you scream out in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at it lightly while he shoves two fingers inside your aching cunt. he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his tongue sucking and flicking your clit, pushing you close to your release.

rafe pulls his mouth from you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, “scream baby, let everyone know how good you feel”

he wraps his lips around your clit again, fingers brutally thrusting into you, hitting at your g-spot and making you feel weak.

“fuck! rafe, rafe, rafe! so fucking good, please, fuck!” you shout, your head falling back, hair dangling off the side of the balcony and blowing in the wind.

he sucks at your clit harshly, his large hand holding at your thigh and keeping it pressed into his shoulder.

“gonna cum, rafe! fuck!”

you begin clamping around his fingers, the band snapping inside you as your release washes over you. your legs are shaking, rafe’s hand tightly gripping at your thigh as he fucks you through your high.

he lets your leg fall from his shoulder, pulling himself away, and up off his knees, wiping his mouth clean.

“that was fucking hot” he smirks.

you grip at the railing, trying to steady your breathing as he grabs the condom off the table.

he rips the foil packet open with his teeth, stroking himself a few times and sliding it down his length. he tightly grips your waist, turning your body and pushing you into the railing, your breasts pressed harshly against the cold metal.

a gasp falls from your lips when you feel him sliding his cock through your slick, teasing your entrance with his head, pushing it in slowly then quickly pulling it out.

“rafe, please-“ you beg.

you hear him chuckle, his free hand gripping at your hip to keep you still while he sinks himself inside you, a raspy groan coming from his lips.

“fuuuck, so fucking tight, feels s’good” rafe groans, slowly thrusting himself in and out of you.

you can’t help the loud whines that escape you, the feel of his thick cock pressing into you so deep you could feel him in your stomach.

“fuck, just like that” you whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder.

he snakes his free hand up your side, wrapping his large hand around your throat, his lips leaving a harsh kiss to yours as he begins fucking into you harder.

“doing so fucking good for me baby, taking me so well”

you arch your back, pushing your ass out farther for him, allowing him to hit deeper inside of you. you’re a moaning mess, the swollen head of his cock repeatedly hitting at your sweet spot.

you can feel the burn between your thighs, your stomach tightening as he fucks you closer to the edge.

“gonna cum! fuck, rafe!”

he pounds his hips harder into yours, his ringed fingers digging into your hips while his other hand is tightly wrapped around your throat. you begin seeing stars, mind hazy as you clamp down around him.

“cum for me, be a good girl and cum” rafe rasps, his thrusts becoming harsher and sloppier.

he smashes his lips to yours again, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan against his lips, him swallowing every beautiful sound that falls from you.

the band snaps again, your release washing over you. you let your head fall forward, legs shaking as rafe fucks you through your high, chasing his own.

you feel his dick twitch, thrusting inside you hard as he busts into the condom.

you slightly wince when he pulls himself from inside you, the empty feeling making you pout.

“that was fucking great” rafe says, an amused smirk on his lips while he pulls the condom off, tossing it into the small trash bin that was sat outside.

“you weren’t too bad yourself” you joke, biting at your bottom lip as you watch him make his way back into the room.

“you wanna stay here tonight? it’s kinda late” rafe says, grabbing his underwear from the floor and slipping them back on.

you bite at your lower lip, contemplating staying. your rules for tinder were no staying the night, and never fuck the same guy more than once, but there was something about him that was making you want to break your rules.

“uh, sure. couldn’t hurt to break one of my rules, right?”

“rules?” rafe asks, eyebrow quirked as he grabs his glass of wine from the table.

“yeah, my tinder rules. never sleep with the same guy more than once, and never spend the night”

rafe chuckles. “you got it all figured out huh? let me just say though, if you stay the night, you’re definitely breaking all of your rules, because i don’t think once was enough for me”

you smile, letting a small laugh out. “i definitely think i’m okay with that”

rafe hands you your glass of wine, the two of you taking small sips as you keep your eyes on each other. you didn’t know for sure, but you felt like you were in for a long night with this one.

RAFE TAGLIST: @whore-4-drewstarkey @ivy-34 @aemonddtargaryen @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @lyndys @urmyslxt @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron

rafe masterlist | taglist form

1K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 5 months

Note

can i request for a mean!spencer x bau!reader? like they are not enemies but there's just this really intense sexual tension with prompts 2, 30, 48, and 49? thank you!

#2 "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last person on earth.” #30 "You're not as hot as you think you are.” #48 "You belonged to me before I even made you mine.” #49 "I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

A/N: Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took almost an entire season to get it done 😭 I hope it's as good as you expected it would be :D

Warnings: slight BDSM themes, Dom!Spencer, dry humping, choking, thigh riding, finger sucking, cum play, facial, penetrative sex, use of contraception, probably more that I don't remember right now... 18+ Minors DNI

There was no one you wanted to spend the night with less than Spencer Reid.

He was annoying, and frustrating and most importantly never knew when to shut the fuck up.

No one was better at getting under your skin, and no one seemed to relish it quite like he did. It wasn't that you hated the man, just that he had the presence of an unkillable mosquito in your life.

He was irritating.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

“I try not to make a habit of it,” you rolled your eyes, pushing past the man as you both finally made it to your motel room for the night.

You weren't sure if this was divine punishment or Emily's idea of a joke, but you'd ended up with Reid as your roomie for the next week.

As your case location was remote and as back waters as it could get, you'd ended up needing to bring Penelope Garcia along with you physically. And with only four rooms available, the eight members of your team had to all scramble for acceptable roommates and, having gotten off the jet last, you'd drawn the short straw.

Rossi had been quick to pair up with Luke, citing Spencer's snoring habit as reason enough, and the girls had happily fallen into two pairs. It was your lucky day.

With your hands busy with your bags, you tossed the key to Spencer quickly and waited for him to unlock the door, eager to escape the cold chill of the night.

“Hurry up, Spencer, or we'll both turn into popsicles out here.”

“Not only is that physically impossible, but it also isn't that cold out here, Y/N. Don't you think you're being a bit sensitive.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and he let out a sharp chuckle as he finally managed to unlock the door.

Despite your best wishes, stepping over the threshold didn't solve your problems. Instead it seemed to present even more.

“Fuck, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” You said, shivering violently as you stood in the doorway. If you thought that was reason enough to cure though, you thought you'd practically spit fire when you saw the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your body forgot its fight to keep warm, letting your blood run cold as you found yourself face to face with one singular, though large, bed. Another cursory glance around, and the heart motifs on the walls and pink themes cushions on the bed suggested that this was likely the motels joke of a Honeymoon Suite.

“Emily did mention that we booked out their last four rooms.” Spencer said, walking up beside you and frowning deeply as he took in the same scene you did.

“She said nothing about the rooms being igloos though, Spencer. I never thought hypothermia was going to be my cause of death after spending the night with you in the room.”

“You think I'd shoot you.”

“I think I'd shoot myself.”

He scowled a little at that and moved to check the room's thermostat. Although it was presently reading 215° so you didn't know how much good that could do.

“There's no sofa,” you grumbled as you watched Spencer move to the small bathroom.

“And there's no hot water. And according to the sign on that table, there's nothing we can do about it until the morning.” You picked up the sign yourself, just to verify and practically moaned in frustration.

“This is insane, we'll freeze to death.”

“It has to drop below 32° in here for us to even possibly freeze death. There's no wind, rain and we have blankets, so maybe you should focus less on being dramatic and more on what we can be doing to warm up.”

“I'm sorry, Doctor Genius, whatever can I do to warm up? Please impart some of your wonderful knowledge on me, I beg.” His eyes flashed with some annoyance and you quietly enjoyed the expression, happy to have affected him as much as he affected you.

“You can start by stripping.” It was his turn to enjoy the abject look of horror that crossed your face in that moment, and you were convinced that of he let even a hint of a laugh out, you'd throttle the man.

“I'm sure you'd just love that,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, there's no water, no thermostat and no other source of heat, so if you're so worried about hypothermia, there's only one solution viable to us right now.”

“You're joking. You want us to huddle together for warmth?” You backed yourself into a corner as you tried to distanced yourself from him as he suddenly began divesting himself of clothing.

As soon as he reached the top buttons of his shirt, you let out a quick squeak and turned around.

“Unless you want me to watch you get undressed too, I suggest you hurry up and do it before I get into bed.”

You quietly cursed and started unwrapping each of your layers, fingers fumbling with the cold already seeped into your skin.

“I am not getting naked, Spencer Reid.”

“I didn't ask you to. Just get comfortable.” You turned around to shoot him a glare, but when you noticed his back was turned - and bare - you lost all memory of the purpose of the movement.

You'd never quite realised before how broad his back was. His shoulders looked strong despite his lithe frame, twisting rather attractively as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. You were almost disappointed that he wasn't facing you, suddenly curious about Spencer Reid's happy trail.

You snapped yourself out of it and continued to change, wrapping your coat around your waist to hide your legs as you switched your pants to your sleep shorts. It was an awkward fumble, but at least the lights were low.

When you were finally ready, your steps back to the bed were hurried and near painful as you felt colder than ever.

Spencer was already there, and without a second thought, you pulled the quilts up and plastered yourself to his side. He was the only thing in the entire room offering you a modicum of warmth, and you weren't going to let your personal hot water bottle go just because everything that came out of his mouth was hot air.

“So you're a big fan of this now, huh?” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. Your back was pressed against his chest as you both laid on your sides, piles of duvet and blankets laid out on top of you. You hated to admit it, but this position was comfortable.

Maybe it was just months of working cases non-stop and perpetual singleness, but the feeling of a man at your back was infinitely pleasing.

“Don't expect anything more Spencer Reid. I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive.” The words were harsh, and if you were being honest, a little bit untrue. Your small peak at his back earlier had definitely sparked an interest in you that was bubbling up in your throat. Like bile.

“You don't have to worry about that. You're actually not as hot as you think you are.” His words were tinged with the same faux bitterness as yours, but you refused to hear it. Instead all you felt was another unpleasant heat spreading throughout you, quiet anger plotting in your stomach.

You knew you probably shouldn't push it, but you needed Spencer to eat those words. Desperately.

Your mind ticked through a few options before landing on one. If you were so unattractive, then surely there's no way he'd physically react to you.

Scooting your body closer to his, you take advantage of the less than comfortable bed, making each of your movements similar to ones you would make when getting comfortable. Except, of course, with the added bonus of making sure your ass pressed directly up against his crotch, moving up and down and grinding into him.

You felt him slightly stiffen behind you, and decided that a few we'll time groans of frustration could go a long way to spurring him on.

So you began letting little gasps and sighs out, graduating to moans when you thought he wouldn't question it, each small movement rubbing against him deliberately.

What you'd failed to remember though, was his hand on your waist. Although you knew he was awake beside you, despite the now late hour and somewhat comfortable bed, his hand held you firm. Or it did until you risking bounced yourself gently against him, and his now limp hand slipped underneath your shirt.

The moan you released then was genuine, the cool touch of his fingers against your burning skin causing you to flush and shiver at the same time. You cursed your earlier self for valuing your comfort over your general peace of mind, because as Spencer's hand once again settles centimetres away from the edge of your boob, you desperately wished for your bra back.

You stopped moving, hoping that if you just pretended to sleep for a few minutes, his hand would reach higher and he'd prove to you that he did think you were attractive. He didn't though, showing off how gentlemanly he was. It pissed you off. Most of his good qualities pissed you off, and you were sure that said more about you than him .

You tried your best to just give in, to even out your breathing and let the black haze of sleep take over but his hands on you were maddening, and you found your body reacting in much the same ways you'd wished him to react.

It didn't help that he'd casually shifted his lower body away from you slightly in your stillness, letting himself fall onto his back rather than his side. As he made this shift, his hand trailed across the expanse of your body before cutting all contact with you altogether.

So much for huddling for warmth if all he had to do to return you to record heats was stroke you like that.

You needed to feel him again, so, feigning the most realistic sleeplike movements you could muster, you turned your body in his direction, and placed your head over his chest. You weren't finished, just proceeding with caution. Your hands obviously fell over his chest, if slightly lower than you'd expect.

It was only when your leg finally came up over his that he broke his silence.

“I know you're awake, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, a solid hand on your thigh holding it down right over his crotch. You felt your prize and grinned in your sleep.

He was hard. You'd won. It was time to play.

You opened your mouth to purr victoriously at him, but he moved so abruptly you were never expecting it.

Shifting his hands to your ass, he hauled your body over him, letting his hands stay on your hips as he began to help you shift them back and forth. You moaned at the friction, even as your head stayed rested on his chest. The movements were shallow, just a teasing but you already felt more aroused than you had in months. Slowly, your hips started moving for themselves and his hands moved onto more important things.

“Am I suddenly the last man on Earth, Y/N?” He smiled, tipping your head up so you could make eye contact with him.

“Go to hell.”

“I think we're already there, don't you?” With that, his large hands sat you up, meeting with no resistance as you let yourself become pliable.

“Show me.” He whispered, hands right on your hips, pushing into your flesh just a touch part forceful.

“Show you what?” You narrowed your eyes, but you knew exactly what it was he wanted and that you weren't going to out up much a resistance before giving it to him.

“Show me how much you want to fuck me. Since your mouth isn't honest, I'm going to have to listen to your body.” You let your hands fall to his chest, pushing lower until you reached the hem of his shirt. He'd pushed the quilts off of your torso, letting the cold air attack your upper body, so you knew your hands were cold, and the hiss he let out at the contact was satisfying enough to shut up and actually start following his directions.

You shifted your body up and down, grinding and dry humping his crotch, wishing for him to stop being a tease and just get it over with.

He wasn't letting you compromise, though. Each small sound that left your body met with a soft smirk from him, each halt in your movements a prod from his hands. You'd tried to still your hips entirely once out of frustration, but he'd delivered a slap to your ass that had you gushing, desperate to reach a release even if he'd only allow you it this way.

“I don't think you're trying hard enough.” His voice was lower than before, something gravelly to it as he began pulling your clothing off one item at a time. Your sweater went first, before he flipped your positions and shimmered your shorts off your body, taking underwear soon after and then you were bare to him and he was rolling you once again.

“That's better. Now, where were we?” He moved your hips for you again, but his eyes stayed focused in the rigid peaks of your nipples, bouncing with each rock of your hips. You weren't sure if it was the cold temperature of the room or your sheer need to cum that had them reacting, but you knew he was seconds away from wrapping his tongue around one and giving into you, so you just accepted it.

His hands stayed put, still on your hips, though the direct contact was heating you slightly more. If you looked down, you were sure you'd see a wet patch against his sweat pants, so you didn't.

You just moaned and whimpered searching for your orgasm on top of him.

“What's wrong, Y/N? Do you need my help to finish?” He noticed your every insecurity, your weakness and exploited it. You were running close to inconsolable, desperate to hit that climax now, more than ever before, so you just nodded at him profusely, desperate for him to touch you in whatever way he could.

It wasn't his hand you felt on your clit, though. It was your own, he wrapped a hand around your fingers and bought them up to the correct stop, showing you exactly what he'd like to see.

“Touch yourself, Y/N. Touch yourself and wish it was me.” With the friction from grinding against him for so long, the satisfaction from the rigid tent underneath you and your hands taking his guidance, it was really not long before your pussy finally twitched familiarly and sighed, soaking his pants underneath you as you shuddered in delight.

He had to ruin your moment of bliss by talking.

“Is that enough, slut? Or do you really need to be filled right now?”

You didn't care if he saw you sticking your tongue down his throat as you collapsed on top of his chest as an answer to that question, or if he saw it as what it was - a desperate attempt to shut him up. All you knew was that he tasted sweet and hot, and that his hand wrapped around your throat was also hot as he pulled you up and off of him.

“Let me be clear. I am in charge.” A simple shift of his legs was enough to flip your positions, landing on top of you ungrateful, but you didn't care.

Using his new high ground, he wedged your legs open and slid a single finger inside you as you moaned. He too found success in silencing you by sticking his tongue down your throat, forcing you to battle him for dominance you knew he'd never allow you.

Having cum only moments before, you truly believed that there was no way he was going to push another one out of you after so little time. The night was full of surprises though.

As you relaxed into his intrusion, he opened you up with a second finger, then a third. You already felt yourself building towards your end goal, but it was his head dropping to tour cold nipples that finally had you cumming around his fingers. His mouth was wet, tongue warm against your skin, and he toyed with you so effectively, you practically forgot your previous qualms.

“See? You belong to me before I've even made you mine.” It irked you that he was right. Had this been any other man, you're sure you'd be bragging about such passionate sex for weeks with your friends. You were resentful that it was him, but you didn't want it to end yet.

Your arms pulled up to hide your face as he traced kisses up and down your chest, fingers coming free to pay attention to your since abandoned nipples.

“I can't wait to fuck you. You're going to feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your arms away from your face, making sure your eyes were focused on him before his next line.

“You have no clue what you started. I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

His hands fell to your face, where his thumb pushed against your lips, slipping into your mouth where you sucked on it, getting it wet as his cock teased the folds of your pussy, running up and down with each gentle push of his hips. You entertained him for a moment before pushing up slightly, his thumb falling from your mouth as you blindly reached for the bedside table. Pulling it open, you were relieved to find what you were looking for.

“If you're so fucking obsessed with me, Spencer, show me.” Carefully unwrapping the package, you grabbed his dick and gently slid the condom onto him, making sure it was secure before you propped yourself back on the pillows, waiting for him to initiate once again.

“Pillow princess. You're acting like I haven't been dreaming of exactly this for the last 12 months.”

You couldn't waste time processing those words before he again ran his cock through the folds of your pussy, then sank himself deep inside you. And you meant deep.

The sudden impact robbed you of your thoughts, pushing out every miserable thought and leaving you with just Spencer and pleasure. The two concepts soon became synonymous as his hips lazily sent him careening in and out of you.

His strokes gained speed gradually until the only words shared between you were the animalistic pants of pleasure, his voice driving you insane as you tried not to get overstimulated before you could cum for a third time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, Spencer-” your moans turned to screams as your orgasm rolled over you, his dick hitting just the right spot inside you that forced your nails to bite his skin, and forced your voice to scratch at your throat as it pushed up from your gut.

Noticing your relentless twitching, Spencer immediately pulled out of your cunt, allowing you a moment of reprieve. Pushing up to his knees, he moved to your side, his crotch parallel with your face as he rolled the condom off his dick.

Stroking himself to completion, he came right over your lips, your eyes dripping with lust as you licked them clean, catching the dribbles that fell down your chin with your fingers and popping them into your mouth as well.

After your whorish display of desperation, it took a full ten minutes for your brain function to resume.

In that time, Spencer had cleaned both of you up speedily with a hotel towel, wrapped an arm around you and began spooning you once again, his chest warm and comfortable against your back, his scent intoxicating.

It didn't stop being so when you finally came down from your post-cum bliss.

“You're not allowed to tell anyone what happened tonight,” you said, turning over to look him in the eye.

“Nothing from tonight, got it. What about tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I allowed to tell them how I plan to wake you up tomorrow, and how your current state of dress made it possible, if not directly invited it?”

You flushed at his words, tingling already at the mention of tomorrow.

“We're sharing a room, Y/N. If you think I'm not going to be inside you whenever were both free, you're entirely mistaken.” His voice was clear - not even a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

“I'm not letting you go that easily, Y/N.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you

1K notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 2 months

Note

rosemary harry deserves to get his dick sucked! there! i said it!

wordcount: 6.4k+

—————

"'S okay, Rosie. We're almost inside."

Keeping his little cat tucked to his chest, Harry fumbled with the small peach tinted key on his ring. His still damp hair had begun to curl dry under the crisp morning air, his kitten surely feeling the same chill. Finally pushing open the door and stepping over the threshold, Harry did his best to stay as quiet as possible since (Y/N) was no doubt sleeping through her morning off.

Placing Rosemary on the ground, she tottered right past him and into the kitchen where (Y/N) had set up a small station of food and water for her since she visited so often. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched her tail flick behind her, lagging behind as he locked the front door. Kicking off his shoes under her foyer table, he hiked his duffle full of extra clothes higher up his shoulder before moving out of the small alcove housing her front door.

He intended to head straight for (Y/N)'s bedroom, eager to curl up with her and spend a quiet morning at her side after his long night, though he stopped in his tracks as he passed by what he had thought would be an empty living room.

Curled up on the plush green suede of her couch, (Y/N) was bundled in a knitted white blanket with tired eyes and a mug of something warm in her hands.

"Hi," she smiled at him, features lighting up some as she took him in.

"Hi, peach," he crooned, dropping his bag on her foyer table before stepping towards her with a pout on his lips, "I told y'not to wake up early for me—'s your day off."

"I know," she smiled, unperturbed by his gentle scolding, "But I wanted to see you—and Rosie. I also wanted to have breakfast with you, so."

Harry's shoulders dropped, the tense set to his bones settling as he listened to her. He could never be upset with her, not even for a second—especially not for something he would do for her. He missed her very much over the night, so he couldn't say he was very disappointed in getting to see her smiling face this early.

"We'll take a nap after we're done eating, then," he decided, nodding his head as if to set the plans in stone, "Thank you, peach."

Stretching from her spot on the couch, she left the blanket a puddle on the couch with her mug still warming her hands. "Of course," she smiled at him, "I have everything already in the kitchen, so we can just eat then lay down."

As much as he loved cooking with her, the idea of having warm food ready for him had his chest warming. He'd do the dishes today, he decided, his small thank you to her.

Taking her hand in his, Harry followed after his peach into her small kitchen. Still sitting at her mat, Rosemary was cleaning her small bowl of food as if she were starved (and she wasn't. Harry had even given her a scoop of her favorite wet food while he showered, so she shouldn't be this hungry).

"Hi, cutie," (Y/N) cooed to the cat, dropping to a crouch beside her while Harry went ahead without her.

Already doled out and portioned was their simple breakfast of fluffy eggs and hashbrowns with plenty of cheese atop them. Peeking at the sink to see a couple of pans and utensils sitting inside the basin, Harry decided he would let her get to sleep then he would be taking care of that for her.

"Everything looks alright?" (Y/N) asked, standing to the full of her height with Rosie circling her feet with a twitching tail.

"Looks really good, love," Harry commended, an easy smile touching his lips, dimples dotting his cheeks.

Harry led the charge this time, heading towards her living room where he intended to cuddle up with her and share warmth under her blanket. Rosemary had followed them out, picking her own spot on a folded blanket on (Y/N)'s armchair she chose every time over the plush bed by the television. Settling on the cushions, Harry draped the knitted blanket around his and (Y/N)'s shoulders as she sunk into his side.

"How was work?" she asked, taking the first bite of her cheesy eggs.

"It was alright. Long," he sighed, exhausted just thinking about the hours he spent at the grocery store. He had been thinking about switching to days since everything settled down, but he didn't like the idea of leaving behind the overnight crew he was beginning to grow comfortable with. Plus, he still wasn't that big a fan of strangers, so he wasn't too into the idea of being surrounded by them all shift long. "'M thinking about picking up one of Theo's shifts next week."

(Y/N)'s lips slanted into a precursory frown. "If you don't want to, you don't have to, H. You've been working a lot, lately."

He shrugged, picking up a bite of his hashbrowns. "I know, but I want to save as much as I can before I move. The apartment I was looking at, the rent went up another hundred per month again."

A beat of silence settled between them for a moment. "You know," (Y/N) started, the tone of her voice familiar enough that Harry knew exactly where she was going, "You don't have to find a new place if you don't want to—you can just come here, instead. It's not like we haven't pretty much lived together already."

Peeking up at her, he caught (Y/N)'s theatrical smile, big and bright on her features as her own form of small persuasion. She always gave him that look when she brought up this subject.

"I know," he said, the same thing he always started with, "Let me think about it, peach."

A part of him wanted to see if he could cut it by himself without using the methods he was used to, but, as (Y/N) had reminded him once, he'd done this whole thing by himself for a very long time—and his shortcuts often made things harder on himself than he cared to admit. He didn't have to be alone anymore, he had her.

(There was also a whole thing he was still fighting off, the feeling of being a burden on her and taking things that shouldn't be given. That was also something he was trying to work on, even if a bit fruitlessly).

"What did y'do this morning while y'waited?" Harry asked, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Swallowing down a bite of her breakfast, (Y/N) shrugged. "I started some laundry, but I was too tired to fold everything so I just made breakfast and then sat down. I had the weirdest dreams last night, though."

"Yeah?" Harry smiled, looking at her with raised brows, "What were they?"

With that, (Y/N) launched into a vivid description of her latest dreamscape. Harry listened intently to every turn her story took, forgetting about his food at points in favor of listening to what she had to say. It wasn't necessarily the nonsensical dream that had him so entertained, it was the way she told it. He still reveled in learning her mannerisms, the gestures that made her who she was. There was always something new he could glean just by listening to her.

Before long, empty plates sat before them and the knitted blanket draped over their shoulders had morphed into a cocoon. Harry curled (Y/N) into his lap, draping her legs over his thighs with his arm wrapped around her back to keep her tucked into his side. She talked to him about the shift she'd had the night before and the book she had finally ordered, and any little thing Harry could get out of her. (Y/N) didn't mind doing the talking, more than happy to have him be her listener, though he was still learning that it was okay to have a listener, too.

The sun was beginning to paint the sky a warm orange over the horizon by the time (Y/N) settled into Harry's chest, her head on his shoulder. The blanket was warm around their forms, reflecting heat back. Harry had it tucked up high under (Y/N)'s chin, allowing her to melt back into the sleep-sodden state he'd found her in.

A companionable silence settled over them, leaving Harry's own eyes to shutter in contentment. Huddled under the fleecey blanket, sharing warmth with her, he allowed his hands to wander over her pliant form.

His hand on her back made spanning circles over the planes, the pads of his fingers skimming the bumps of her spine and cradle of her ribs. She was still awake, that much he could tell, but her breathing was an even pace he could feel both under his hand and the puffs against his shoulder. Skating over her form, his hand landed on the curve of her waist, reuniting with the familiar softness with denting fingertips.

Without meaning to, his subtle squeeze had (Y/N) jumping in his lap, a huff of laughter pluming from her lips.

"Sorry," Harry murmured, dropping an apologetic kiss to the top of her head.

(Y/N) snuggled closer in response, his mistake forgiven. Leaving his hand still on her waist, he instead focused on the span of thigh under his left hand.

He had previously pressed his palm into her hip when she had swung her legs into his lap, though now he grazed his touch over the plush of her thigh. Despite the chill in the air and the handful of times she complained about the cold while snuggling into bed, she still couldn't seem to ditch her sleep shorts, leaving a length of her bare skin on display. He worked a soothing circuit over the skin, the blunt of his nails dragging along here and there as he felt goosebumps prickle over the surface.

She keened into his touch, pressing her body that much closer to his own. The soft contours that made up her form reflected against the hard angles of his own, sharing their warmth under the knitted blanket. All night he had missed this.

The last time he had seen her was two mornings ago, just before she had left for her shift at the bakery. It was a quick goodbye, Harry blinking awake just enough to catch her lips in a quick kiss before she was telling him she'd see him later and that she loved him. He didn't sleep much after that, barely dozing in and out of restless dreams before he deigned himself into properly waking and heading home to ready for his own shift. He had missed her, missed the warmth of her touch, the caress of her voice, the wisp of her presence.

To have her now was both exhilarating and relieving. He wanted to stay awake so he didn't miss a single second with her, even if it meant only watching her sleep. But seeing her so relaxed and feeling her melt against him comforted him into his own contented state, as if tonight would be the night he would float away on his own pleasant dreams.

Harry kept running his hands over her body, soothing himself with the plush of her skin and the line of her form. Maybe it was the feel of her warmth, the safety under the quilt with her, or even the feel of the huffs of her breath against his neck, but before he even realized, he felt a stirring in his lap. Under the pillows of her thighs, his cock was much more awake than the rest of him, suddenly piquing to attention with her as his target.

Folding his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry attempted to shift under her in hopes of concealing the stray effect her presence was having on him (truly, he couldn't be too surprised. He'd gone years without any kind of physical relationship with anyone other than himself, and now he felt like a teenager again, aching every time he caught a whiff of her attention). He was sure her cuddling was not something she expected to entice him, especially given how close she was to edging on falling asleep in his arms.

In an attempt to keep himself in check, he stilled his wandering hands, keeping them stationary on the outside of her knee and the safety of her waist. He would hate for her to think he was taking advantage of their position when this was supposed to be a tender morning together after she went out of her way to welcome him home.

Shifting his hips, he tried to gently remove his lower half from the warm body without disturbing her, or landing in an awkward position.

"Where are you going?" (Y/N) grumbled when his movement didn't stop, her arms clinging to his neck.

Harry figured he might be more intoxicated than he thought when just the glaze of her voice was enough to have the muscles in his thighs tensing. His mind immediately went to a different place, remembering all of the breathless words he'd heard wrapped in that voice and the many he still wanted to hear.

"Nowhere, jus'—" he strained, finding a less than comfortable position with his tailbone low on the cushion and his back stretched long, "getting comfortable."

"Oh," she sounded, waking some as she peeked her head up, "I can move if you need me to."

Before Harry had a chance to stop her, tightening his hold on her, she was shifting herself on his lap following the way he was sprawling out. Soon enough, he could feel the plush of her thighs brushing against the familiar hardness in his lap, something that had her stopping in her own movement for a breath.

He loosened his hold on her then, allowing her space if she wanted off of him. "Peach," he started after a beat, sighing out the pet name.

Popping out of her hiding place against his neck, (Y/N) looked to him with still sleepy eyes though they were definitely brighter than he would have guessed given how close to sleep she had been.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Blinking, Harry matched her eye contact. She looked to him with a pair of pinched brows and a clear gaze, no hesitancy behind her perplexing question.

That was not the kind of reaction he had thought he would garner. Extra information was not one of the routes he saw this conversation needing.

"I—" he started, cutting himself off a syllable later, "We... We're cuddling, peach. I didn't want to ruin the morning. You're too tired, anyway."

As she listened, Harry got a view of the soft smile that took over her features, lighting up the sleepy corners of her eyes.

"I'm not too tired for you," she crooned, her voice quiet for just the two of them. Dipping her head down, (Y/N) pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, the tip of her nose skimming his cheek. "You worked hard last night—you deserve something nice."

A heavy blink weighed down his eyelids as he lent into her kiss, cock stirring in his lap. Was he always this easy to get turned on? Or was it just (Y/N) who knew how to push all of his buttons so perfectly?

Dropping his head back against the backing couch cushion, Harry allowed (Y/N) to shower him in her kisses, his mouth in a soft gape. He could feel her gentle smile with every planted kiss against his skin, touching down his neck and over his cheeks and nose. Every bit of his skin she could reach was warmed with her kiss.

One of her hands on his shoulder drifted down, grazing over the blocks of muscle that made up his chest and abdomen, she trailed down until she hit his lap and the bulge that rested between his thighs. His lungs stunted at the soft pressure she applied.

"(Y/N)," he started, voice strained as he blinked his eyes open to match hers, "Y'really don't have to. I know you're tired."

Canting her head, she chanced a glance down towards his lap before she floated her hand away to sit on the middle of his abdomen. "I'm okay, though," she reminded him, looking more awake every time she insisted, "But, if you're too tired, we can go to my room and cuddle instead."

Folding his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry scanned his eyes over her features. There was no way he was going to turn her down in favor of sleeping, especially if she was offering so earnestly.

"'M awake, if you are," he murmured, matching her eyes with his own intensity.

Her smile was too cute, Harry decided, for a moment like this—negotiating over sex. "I think I'm a little too tired for everything, but I've been wanting to do something else for you if it's alright."

Harry's head swirled with whatever this something else was that she had in mind. "Whatever y'want to do, peach. I'll take anything y'want to give me."

(Y/N) dropped a short kiss on his lips, looking a bit too excited before she began slipping down his body with a chirped Good! falling from her lips.

Instinctively, Harry wanted to curl his fingers around her body, keep her where she was against his chest, where she was keeping him warm. Still, he refrained, allowing her to coast down his form until she was settled on the floor between his legs, her knees tucked underneath her with the blanket draped around her shoulders (sneaky thing took the blanket with her before he even had a chance to notice).

His heart thumping in his chest, Harry took in the sight of her on her knees before him. Her eyes suddenly appeared wider, lashes fuller, cheeks warmer. He's never seen her like this before, never had the privilege of having her knelt before him though he had a muscle-squeezing idea of where this may be going.

Spreading his thighs that much more, (Y/N) shuffled between them until she was fit against the edge of the couch with his knees on either side of her. Reaching out, he passed a hand through her hair.

"You're so pretty, peach. You know that?" he murmured, affection dripping from his tender words.

She turned bashful under his praise, resting her head on the inside of his thigh as she gazed up at him. "Thank you," she told him through a small smile, "Is it okay if I try this? I know we've never really talked about it, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately."

Attempting to not get sidetracked over the idea of (Y/N) thinking about having his cock in her mouth—a lot, too—, he kept his focus on the way she looked up at him. A lopsided smile quirked up the corner of his lip.

"You think I would ever say no to that, peach? Or you, for that matter?"

A plume of laughter fell from her lips. From how close she was, with her head pillowed against his leg, Harry could feel that puff against his sweats. He wondered if she felt the way his muscles squeezed under her cheek.

"Just wanted to check, that's all," she prattled, lifting her head from his thigh with her hands reaching towards the waist of his sweats.

With Harry's help lifting his hips, she was able to hook her fingers in the band of his sweats and briefs, pulling the pair down until they rested on the mid of his thighs and his cock had bobbed against his stomach. A shiver tickled his spine now that he was exposed to the chilly air of her home, though he doubted that was the same reason as to why goosebumps touched his skin.

When (Y/N) took him into her hand a moment later, her eyes trained on his ruddy, leaking cock while his own eyes fought against a fluttery blink, Harry's breath hitched. The hand that had been gently petting back her hair turned a hair firmer, reaching to gather the strands on the back of her neck.

"I wish you had told me earlier you were feeling like this," she spoke without lifting her eyes from her hand, "I would have helped you instead of almost falling asleep."

He wasn't even sure if she was intending to be as sexy as she sounded then, his breath stuttering at the feel of her hand pumping around his length with her voice swirling around him.

"'M sorry, love," he sighed, "Thought y'would be too tired."

She shrugged as if this was nothing, Harry having to bite back a smile as he watched on. "I don't mind. I'd rather suck you off than go to sleep, honestly."

At that, there was no way he could pull back the shuddering moan that tumbled from his mouth. A string of precum pearled at his tip only to be wiped away by (Y/N) as she collected it to help slick her strokes.

Nails grazing her scalp, he tipped his head as he watched his love admire his cock the way he admired her. "You're so good to me, peach. 'M so lucky, you know?"

A brilliant smile on her face, she glanced up at him with a frame of fluttering lashes around her eyes. "You deserve it, honey."

There was something else he was going to say, most likely another praise about how perfect she was for no other reason than he loved her and she had his prick in her hand, but that all went down the drain as soon as she lent forward and pressed her lips to the crown. Her lips were warm and soft, slick with the precum gathering on his tip.

It was the way she fluttered her eyes closed, her lips puckered and sweet, looking just the way she did when she kissed him, that had him almost melting into the cushions. She was kissing on his cock the way she did his lips—with affection and something all too soft for an act like this.

He could only watch breathlessly as she held his shaft in a snug fist, tipping her chin and tilting her head with every smeared kiss along his head. If this was already making his stomach jump and lungs squeeze, he feared to think just how long he'd last once she gave him more than a few kisses.

With hooded eyes, (Y/N) blinked up at him just before he felt the tip of her tongue gliding out from between her lips. The fan of her breath rolled across his sensitive skin, chilling the newly slicked path from her tongue had his blood pounding through his veins. His hand gripping her hair pulsed, subconsciously keeping her right where she was.

"Fuck," he breathed, feeling a flush creep up his chest and along the column of his throat.

Though he felt her hand pulse around his length, she didn't let him distract her. Instead, the swift licks she gave graduated to long laves when she shifted to drag the flat of her tongue along the underside of his cock. A sheen of spit covered her lips and sparkled on her chin with every lick as Harry's breathing labored above her.

His eyes followed her every move with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as she began pumping her fist across his now slick length once more before she pursed her lips against his tip. His chest constricted when he saw a string of saliva drop from her lips, sliding down the ridge of his tip, though his breath was cut off when she took him into her mouth.

With her hand still working his shaft, she sucked on his head. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge, Harry's hips bucking against her mouth without permission.

"S-Sorry," he breathed out when he saw her rear back.

"It's okay—just wasn't ready," she murmured through a thick throat. Drawing her eyes away from where her hand was pumping over his length in the absence of her mouth, she told him, "You can—um—do it again, if you want. I'll be expecting it now, so."

There was a part of him that wanted to fawn over her nervous delivery; how sweet could she be with the taste of him on her tongue and kisses warming his cock? It was hardly fair to feel a flutter in his chest when he was already hard over her.

The rest of him, though, was definitively stuck on the fact that she had invited him to lift his hips into her face. She hadn't been ready before, but she was now and didn't have a single qualm about him pressing into her mouth the same way he sunk into her pussy.

His hand in her hair traveled through the strands until he landed on the back of her neck, his palm becoming a cuff pressed against the nape.

"You're alright with that, love?" he pressed, his hand clenching when she gave a particularly tight drag of her hand over his length. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she assured him, "I trust you."

He wanted to say more but there was nothing left for him to choke out when she dipped her head down and took him back into her mouth. Her lips were split wide around his tip as she inched more of him down before stopping with a short gag. When she found her stopping point, she dragged her tongue around the underside, outlining the strong vein that roped around his length. She bobbed her head some, taking his tip to the back of her throat in a teasing squeeze over and over. Whatever she couldn't reach was taken care of by her hand, her fingers tight around his girth.

"Jes—fuck—Peach," he choked out, his hand on the back of her neck a heavy weight as he watched his wet dream play out in front of him.

She kept her focus on her task, ignoring his calling of her pet name, with her free hand coming to rest on his thigh. The blunt of her nails pressed into the flesh, becoming points of clarity against the rushing in his ears.

Her earlier suggestion rang in his head. She had shown him her limits—just how far she was able to take him down before she would need to rear back and breathe, and the pacing that felt comfortable for her.

He could be careful. He could take care of her, and give himself what he wanted. Give himself what he had dreamt of more than once in the middle of the night.

With her so close to him, it wasn't hard to solidify his grip on the back of her neck. She paused when she felt the weight, curling her mouth around his leaking tip. All it took was a watery glance up at him through her lashes when Harry allowed a moment of his inhibitions to drift.

Keeping her steady over his lap, he pushed his hips upwards, his cock sinking into her mouth in one fluid motion. The channel of her throat tightened as he pulled her head to meet him halfway, telling him when to stop before she would gag around him. The silky warmth had him shuddering in his spot, his free hand now fisting the throw pillow at his side.

"Shit, (Y/N)," he panted, his mouth in an open gape as he watched her sink over him. Her hand on his thigh was warm and piercing.

Rearing back, Harry found a rhythm as he thrusted his hips forward into her mouth once more. Her tongue skated around his length with her hand clumsily pumping where he didn't dare to push her. With her lips stretched around him, her saliva began to drop down his cock, landing in the thatch of hair at his base. The band of his low sweatpants shifted against his balls, an unexpected jolt hitting his stomach every time he pulled away from her mouth.

A stream of moans, grumbling whines, and calls of her name permeated her living room. Through the cracks in her curtains, sunlight spilled into (Y/N)'s home, rays catching the blanket huddled form that was her sitting between his legs. Stray hairs haloing her head were highlighted by the sunlight, plating them in gold through his rose-colored lenses.

With the way he was fucking into her throat, rearing his hips back once he hit the seal only to sink his length inside once more, it felt entirely out of place to feel especially sentimental gazing down at her. Maybe it was the long night of work, the buttery morning, or the fact that this was the first time he'd been sucked off in years, but had he ever been more in love?

If the slick of her mouth and writhing of her tongue wasn't enough, when a delicate moan slipped out of her throat and vibrated around his prick, Harry could feel the spiral hiding behind his abs tighten into something unbearable.

"Fuck—I'm—You're," he stammered, the pacing of his hips beginning to falter with a pinch appearing between his brows and his throat growing thick, "'M gonna cum, peach—shit."

The peek he saw of her eyes through her lashes was one he wouldn't forget. There was a wet sheen to her gaze from the amount of times he prodded at her boundaries, pushing the tip of his cock just that much further into her throat. Her lips were slicked with spit, the very corner of her mouth sporting a pearly dot of his precum, with her skin warm on the back of her neck. His hips stuttered thinking about the fact that he had been the one to get her like that this morning.

Her hand pumped the remainder of his length quickened, the fist tight. She stroked over him in tandem with the pacing of his hips, meeting him halfway. His breaths were nothing more than uneven puffs falling from strained lungs.

"C-Can I cum in your mouth, peach?" he panted, the words rushing out before he had any real thought behind them, "Or do y'want me to st—"

Before he had a chance to finish she let out a delicate moan, her lips tight around the stretch of his girth. Her choice was clear, seeing as she didn't stop him from pushing through her pursed lips or drawing away against the weight of his hand.

Though it felt a bit pathetic, just how easy he was, that was somehow all he needed before he felt the first surge of release. His hips stuttered, (Y/N)'s own hand struggling in her pacing when the first rope hit the back of her throat. He felt his muscles tense, his abdomen hard and his thigh bunched tight under her hand. His mouth was in a gape as he fought to keep his eyes open with every pulse of his cock leaking more cum into the back of her throat.

He wanted to watch as he came into her mouth, he wanted to see her face. His hand on the back of her neck loosened as he felt into the moment. He swore there was a haze that drifted through her home at that moment. There was nothing but static touching his skin—and (Y/N).

By the time the cloudy haze and the electricity faded, Harry's muscles unclenched as he sank back into the couch. (Y/N)'s mouth was still warm around his cock, though her grip had fallen away in the fray. His eyelids felt heavy as he gazed at her, luxuriated in the feel of her cleaning him up as the final ropes fell from his tip.

When it all became too much, Harry feeling too sensitive for any more, he used that grip on the back of her neck to draw her away from him. She went pliantly wherever he wanted her, disconnecting from his cock with a soft pop and a lingering string of saliva that evenly bowed and broke to land on her chin.

Harry's hand on her neck shifted to trail through her hair, a decidedly gentler touch than what he was sure he was giving her in the heat of the moment. He pet back the errant strands, displaying her face for him in the rising sunshine. Once again, he couldn't be sure if it was the way the light fell on her face, the soft set of her features, or the fact he had just orgasmed harder than he knew could happen before eight a.m., but he'd never seen anything so pretty.

Her eyes glimmered with stray tears, her skin warm and dewy with sweat. Her lips were swollen and slick, her hair a little bit of a mess thanks to him. If he wasn't already spent, growing limp, he would have had to take her again if for no other reason than to show her just how beautiful he thought she was.

"C'mere, peach," he murmured, his voice sunken in his throat, "Let me kiss you."

Though she didn't waste any time crawling back into his lap, (Y/N) took a moment to pull his pants back up his thighs and tuck his sensitive cock away before she was straddling his hips. Opening his arms, (Y/N) fell into his chest with her own arms looping around his neck.

It was an affection hug he pulled her into first, his face burrowing into her neck with his nose skimming her hairline. He pulled in her scent in a thick inhale, pulsing his arms around her. The blanket she had stolen in the first place was now draped around their snuggled position once more, layering around them as if there was any more privacy to be had in the middle of her empty house.

She was the first to begin drawing away, but Harry caught her lips before she had a chance to utter anything through her perfect, perfect, perfect mouth (maybe he hadn't come down completely, just yet). He pressed a soft kiss to her top lip before he took it between his two, getting a taste of her lips when he parted his own. He didn't mind that he could still taste the traces of himself, too caught up in the fact that she wanted that taste of him in the first place. The pads of his fingers pressed into the small of her back, keeping her cuddled to his chest as he tilted his head and tipped his chin this way and that.

"I love you," he breathed against her mouth, parting just far enough away for the words to slip through.

A gentle laugh dripped from her lips coloring his own though he didn't interrupt his kissing. "I can't imagine why you'd be saying that right now, after what just happened."

He knew she was teasing, attempting to play with him some after their intimacy, but he didn't have it in him to go along. "I mean it," he insisted, sounding a touch more desperate than he meant to let on, "I love you so much. Everything about you."

Pulling far enough away to rest her forehead on his, Harry was forced to blink his eyes open and keep himself from following after her kiss. Her gaze was soft, a fond depth swimming in her irises.

"Harry," she started, the pillows of her lips grazing against his own, "I love you, too. Don't sound so sad."

"'M not sad," he answered in a rush, "'M happy—so happy. You're so perfect, and 'm so lucky, and I love you."

That fondness in her eyes landed on her lips, stretching them into a soft smile that Harry wanted to get a full view of but didn't want to draw any further away to see. "I love you, too," she declared, granting mercy on him and tipping her chin to press a single kiss to his waiting mouth, "You're perfect, and I'm the lucky one."

There was the immediate instinct to argue with her, remind her of who he was before her, but he refrained. It was something he was working on—accepting her love and kind words—, and he didn't want to ruin the moment by denying her feelings for him.

"Thank you," he answered simply, giving a loving kiss to the full of her lips as a way to seal his.

(Y/N) reciprocated with a press of her own, surely aware of what was going on in his head. Pulling away from him, she began crawling out of his lap despite the hold he had around her middle. "You're welcome," she smiled, a hint of pride in the corners, "I think—if you're not too awake now—that we should nap for the rest of the morning. In my room, too, so we can actually cuddle."

Scanning over her features now, he could still see that sleep tinge to her face; a slight crease to her eyes and the sloping of her shoulders. She had been the one half asleep in the first place, and she ended up being the one that did the most work in the end—she deserved to sleep her morning away.

Plus, he still needed to do her dishes while she slept. Especially after what she just did for him.

"That sounds really nice, peach," he settled on, allowing her a glimpse at his dimples when he gazed up at her.

Muttering a quiet, chittering C'mon, then, Harry gave her his hand to drag him back to her bedroom. The throw blanket she had claimed for herself trailed behind her as he followed. The smile on his face had no plans of slipping away as he watched her pad towards her bedroom, socked feet and her blanket covered body too cute for her own good.

A quiet pattering sounded behind him. Harry felt his chest plummet towards his stomach before he even chanced a look over his shoulder.

Reluctantly, he turned his head just to see Rosemary following after them on her quiet feet. Her tail flicked high in the air, her ears at attention as she looked up at him with her moon eyes.

God, he really hoped she hadn't just seen what happened.

—————

anon ur right he does deserve this!!! thank u for requesting!!! thank u to everyone for reading and so sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas of your own please send them in!

760 notes · View notes